Despite Cai Zhao’s complaints about Qingque Town’s lack of prosperity, it far surpassed Luoying Town in size and population. With nearly 2,000 permanent residents across almost 100 households, it was significantly larger. Chang Ning and Cai Zhao carefully followed the two suspects from a distance until they disappeared into a quiet alley.
This was an ordinary alley, one of at least ten similar ones in Qingque Town. On either side were double-leaf doors, indicating six households. The saying “the best place to hide is in plain sight” seemed apt, as the suspicious individuals had chosen to settle here. The question was, which door had they entered?
Chang Ning suggested setting fire to the alley to flush everyone out and identify the suspicious household. Cai Zhao, of course, disagreed, but his idea inspired another plan. She bought 40 red-dyed boiled eggs and recruited a pair of quick-witted street children, about ten years old, to go door-to-door with a basket.
The children were to say they had just moved to the neighboring alley and that their aunt had given birth to a son. They were offering red eggs to celebrate with their new neighbors. Chang Ning and Cai Zhao observed from a discreet angle.
Chang Ning asked doubtfully, “How will this reveal anything?”
Cai Zhao explained quietly, “Senior Fan mentioned that local custom requires giving an even number of red eggs for good luck. I’ve instructed them to give an odd number to each household.”
Sure enough, of the six households, one kindly reminded the children about the local custom after receiving an odd number of eggs. Another family even returned one egg to make it an even number. Two other households hesitated at their doors, seemingly unsure about the odd number.
Only one household, where a middle-aged man dressed as a steward answered, showed no reaction. This man’s demeanor was cold, his words impatient, and his movements swift and powerful, clearly a trained fighter. He took the eggs without comment, tossed the children a silver coin, and quickly shut the door.
“That’s the one,” even Chang Ning could tell now.
The next steps were simple. Chang Ning and Cai Zhao leaped into the neighboring house, swiftly incapacitating anyone they encountered. From there, they observed the suspicious residence over the wall. The courtyard’s plants showed signs of neglect, and five or six armed guards in fine clothes patrolled the area.
Ideally, infiltration would occur at night, but with the short winter days, dusk was already falling. As the smell of dinner wafted from nearby homes, a group of guards approached for a shift change. The current guards eagerly went to meet them.
Seizing this moment, Chang Ning and Cai Zhao slipped into a blind spot by the courtyard wall. They quickly moved on, with Chang Ning following Cai Zhao’s lead, despite his lack of fear of discovery.
The compound had front and back courtyards. Cai Zhao, familiar with such layouts, noticed two connected side rooms near the main building in the middle courtyard. She pulled Chang Ning inside.
Once inside, Cai Zhao was stunned. These rooms, typically for servants, were luxuriously furnished. Even the tablecloth in the central hall was fine silk, with expensive jade porcelain tea sets on display. Was this extravagance a sign of the captors’ wealth, or did it have another meaning?
As Cai Zhao’s mind raced, Chang Ning heard a faint noise outside. Without a word, he pulled her into a hidden alcove near the back room, concealing them behind thick curtains while leaving a small gap to observe.
Soon, the door opened, and a young man in fine clothes entered, accompanied by an odd metallic sound.
The youth, about fourteen, was of average build with delicate features. However, he looked exhausted and irritated, with pale skin and red eyes. Despite his expensive clothes and invaluable jade crown, he wore a dejected expression, reminiscent of a desperate gambler with no way out.
He curled up at the table, staring blankly into space. Two guards entered, one saying, “Young Master Qian, please extend your feet.”
Qian shuddered, the metallic sound recurring. “Can’t I rest a bit after just eating?”
The guard replied, “You can rest once we’ve secured the locks, young master.”
Resignedly, Qian stretched out his feet, revealing dark iron shackles on his ankles. The guards attached thick chains from the wall to the shackles, locked them, and carefully pocketed the key.
Cai Zhao and Chang Ning exchanged knowing glances, their suspicions confirmed. This “Young Master Qian” was an important prisoner, kept in luxurious surroundings as a deception.
After the guards left, Qian sighed heavily. The door soon opened again, startling him.
Three men entered: a sharp-eyed man with powerful internal energy and a hawk-like nose, a handsome young man in his late teens, and a short, middle-aged man with downcast eyes. Cai Zhao recognized the last one as an accountant she had seen earlier in Qi Yunke’s room.
Qian looked at the hawk-nosed man excitedly: “Are you trying to work me to death? Even a mule needs rest. You know how little energy I have left. The one from half a month ago nearly drained all my power, and yet you’re back again!”
“That was half a month ago,” the hawk-nosed man sneered. “We’ve been feeding you well and giving you the best medicine. Surely you’ve recovered some energy by now. Don’t try to fool us.”
Qian deflated, slumping in his chair.
The hawk-nosed man continued, “Rest assured, Young Master Qian, we don’t want to exhaust you completely. This one will only take five days. Please work your magic again.”
Qian looked up wearily: “Who is it this time?”
The handsome young man stepped forward: “Me.”
Qian sighed, “I wasn’t asking about you. I meant, who’s the unfortunate target this time? Don’t give me another painting. Remember how the last one turned out? I’ve told you, I need the actual person, and they must be alive!”
This exchange revealed information that led Cai Zhao to a terrifying conclusion, one she could barely bring herself to consider. She turned to see Chang Ning also wearing an expression of shock.
The hawk-nosed man smiled, “We must thank Old Chen for luring him down the mountain. Otherwise, Young Master Qian would have no one to work on.”
Chen the steward bowed, “My martial arts are weak. It was thanks to the ‘Bewildering Needle’ that I could capture him so easily.”
“Well said. Chen, your discretion will be rewarded,” the handsome young man replied.
At the hawk-nosed man’s command, two more men entered, carrying a heavy sack that appeared to contain a person. Chang Ning and Cai Zhao recognized these men as the ones they had followed all afternoon.
They placed the sack on a nearby chaise lounge and slowly revealed an unconscious, delicate face…
Cai Zhao covered her mouth, feeling Chang Ning’s hand tighten on her shoulder. She looked up to see his jaw clenched—the person in the sack was Fan Xingjia.
The hawk-nosed man instructed the two men, “Once we’re done here, accompany Little Gong back to the mountain. Old Chen is from the outer court and can’t reach that far. If Little Gong shows any inconsistencies in behavior, you must correct him immediately.”
The men bowed and left.
Young Master Qian approached the chaise lounge and examined Fan Xingjia, puzzled. “This person has delicate hands and feet, and a fragile bone structure. He doesn’t seem like a strong martial artist. Why do you want to change into him?”
The hawk-nosed man laughed triumphantly, “You needn’t worry about that. Little Gong, sit down properly. Young Master Qian will perform his ‘grand human transformation’ for us. Ha ha ha!”
The handsome young man smiled and sat at the table.
Young Master Qian took scissors from a nearby cabinet and carefully cut open the sack. He began to ‘feel’—Fan Xingjia’s skull, the back of his head, ears, forehead, nose bridge, cheeks, neck, and downward…
It was like a butcher caressing livestock before slaughter, or a bone-setter giving a client a thorough massage, carefully following the muscle lines.
The scene was indescribably eerie, making Cai Zhao nauseous.
While Young Master Qian ‘worked’, the hawk-nosed man turned to Chen: “Old Chen, this Fan boy is Qi Yunke’s direct disciple. Do we need to replace him?”
Chen replied quietly, “We must. He became suspicious as soon as our people arrived on the mountain. Moreover, he manages daily affairs and often interacts with others. At noon today, the Cai girl spouted nonsense in front of Qi Yunke. While others were half-believing, I noticed this fanboy took it to heart. Fortunately, I was cautious and sneaked into the guest quarters after lunch. Sure enough, I caught him secretly searching through our people’s luggage.”
The hawk-nosed man tensed, “Did he find anything?”
“Not yet. I lured him away,” Chen said. “However, if we keep him around, he’ll eventually find a flaw. This boy may seem carefree, but he’s very observant. He noticed that the warrior Li Debiao, who had just arrived, practiced the Scorpion Finger technique. Heh, that’s not something our righteous sects practice.”
The hawk-nosed man sighed, “I told them to bring only swords and daggers up the mountain, leaving behind all those vicious poison darts, sickles, and hooks. I didn’t expect we’d still be exposed. These Qingque Sect disciples have keen eyes indeed.”
By now, Young Master Qian had finished examining Fan Xingjia’s arms and hands, even lingering on his fingertips. He began to feel Fan’s chest—watching a man touch another man-made Cai Zhao’s skin crawl.
No wonder she couldn’t get into those male romance novels from the bookstore. She didn’t have a taste for it. But as a tolerant connoisseur, she didn’t mind if others enjoyed it.
Little Gong grew impatient: “It’s getting late. Please hurry, Young Master Qian. This boy isn’t married, doesn’t even have a lover, and doesn’t focus on martial arts practice. He won’t be taking his clothes off to train regularly.”
Young Master Qian turned back: “Can you stop interrupting? The Body Transformation Technique isn’t something to be rushed. Don’t martial artists choose disciples based on talent and potential? Everyone’s muscles, meridians, bones, and dantian are different. Even joints have slight variations. That’s why some people are suited for swords, others for sabers, and some for meteor hammers…”
The hawk-nosed man interjected: “Don’t be upset, Young Master Qian. Little Gong has a point. This is just an emergency measure; it doesn’t need to be perfect. Please proceed quickly.” Though polite, his words carried an unmistakable threat.
Resigned, Young Master Qian took out a foot-long black sandalwood box from the cabinet. Opening it on the table revealed a dazzling array of silver needles—hundreds of them, varying in length and thickness.
Cai Zhao had never seen so many silver needles. They came in all shapes and sizes, with flat round tips, wedge-shaped ends, tapered bodies, and even some shaped like slender pyramids.
Young Master Qian selected seventeen or eighteen needles of various types, coating each with a strange-smelling oil. He then stood behind Little Gong and instructed him to remove his upper garment.
Once ready, he concentrated, suddenly thrusting the needles into specific points on Little Gong’s head, neck, shoulders, back, spine, and waist in one continuous motion. He then quickly moved to Little Gong’s front, inserting needles into his forehead, cheeks, and neck.
Though Young Master Qian didn’t seem particularly skilled in martial arts, his needle technique was incredibly fast, his fingers blurring with speed.
After inserting the needles, he immediately placed his hands on Little Gong’s Baihui acupoint at the top of his head and began channeling his energy.
This technique was bizarre. Young Master Qian showed no signs of energy release except for a bead of cold sweat on his forehead. Little Gong, however, began steaming, with wisps of white vapor rising from the needle points, like a poorly covered steamer.
The vapor blurred Little Gong’s features. Cai Zhao thought she saw his appearance and body changing—some areas of skin and flesh swelling slightly, others sinking, even his shoulders broadening by a few inches.
Little Gong had a slender waist, which visibly thickened under Young Master Qian’s technique.
The room fell silent as everyone stared at the strange transformation occurring on Little Gong’s body. It was like witnessing a skin-changing demon from an old ghost story come to life, peeling off bloody human skin to deceive people.
Cai Zhao felt a chill run down her spine.
After what seemed like an eternity, Young Master Qian whispered, “It’s done.”
He appeared utterly exhausted, staggering back a few steps before collapsing onto the chaise lounge behind him.
The white vapor around Little Gong slowly dissipated, revealing a terrifyingly familiar outline—Fan Xingjia!
He excitedly touched his face, pulling out a small silver mirror from his waist pouch to examine himself: “It changed! Ha ha ha, it changed! This is fascinating…”
Seeing this excited and eerie unfamiliar expression on Fan Xingjia’s face made Cai Zhao feel as if a million ants were crawling over her pillow—utterly uncomfortable.
The hawk-nosed man approached Little Gong and examined him, smiling: “Excellent work, Young Master Qian. It’s perfect—even a wife sleeping next to him wouldn’t notice the difference! Ha ha ha ha! Old Chen, this must be your first time seeing this. Come take a look.”
Chen the steward bent down to examine Little Gong’s face closely, marveling: “It’s identical, truly identical. This is miraculous craftsmanship. I always thought the legends of the ‘Thousand Faces Sect’ were exaggerated, but now I see they were true.”
He straightened up and looked at the hawk-nosed man curiously. “With such an incredible technique, how were they wiped out by the allied orthodox and unorthodox sects ninety years ago?”
The hawk-nosed man smiled mysteriously: “It’s precisely because the technique was too powerful that they couldn’t be allowed to continue. Think about it—if this sect had flourished, who in the martial world could sleep soundly? Wouldn’t everyone fear waking up next to a different person, or having their closest disciples replaced during a meal?”
Chen understood, his gaze sliding towards Young Master Qian. He then said loudly: “Thank you for your assistance, Young Master Qian. When we achieve our great ambition, we will surely reward you generously.”
Cai Zhao inwardly scoffed—YeAh right. Generous reward? You’re burning incense with a stick of candy, fooling no one! The day of your “great ambition” will likely be this Young Master Qian’s death day.
But Young Master Qian seemed oblivious to this, merely waving his hand tiredly: “No need for formalities. As I said, this transformation will only last five days at most before reverting.”
Little Gong laughed: “Don’t worry. Within five days, ‘I’ will fall into a deep ravine, leaving no trace of my body. Then our people won’t have to be on edge anymore. Ha ha ha ha…”
“Is it the ravine below Wanshui Qianshan?” Chen hesitated. “That place is extremely dangerous. Will there be any issues?”
The hawk-nosed man smiled: “Old Chen has a compassionate heart. He’s worried about you, Little Gong. You should thank him.”
Little Gong hurriedly expressed his thanks, then continued: “Don’t worry, you two. I may not be good at much, but I’ve practiced the Spider-Climb Technique since childhood. I can cling to wind-blown, sun-baked cliff faces, even smooth mirrors. After a couple of hours, I’ll slowly climb back up.”
Chen nodded: “In that case, let’s dispose of Fan Xingjia to avoid future trouble.”
Cai Zhao’s heart sank.
Young Master Qian also seemed surprised: “At least keep him for a few more hours to study his speech and gait. Becoming another person isn’t just about looking alike.”
Little Gong dismissed this casually: “This boy goes down the mountain to make purchases every few days. I’ve been secretly observing him in town at least seven or eight times, each time for an hour. I know his mannerisms well.” His tone implied that Fan Xingjia no longer held any value.
“You’ve been planning to replace this person for a while?” Young Master Qian asked, surprised.
Little Gong boasted, “Not just him. We have brothers of similar build secretly observing all the important figures in the Qingque Sect. If the situation changes, we can replace them immediately!”
Young Master Qian let out a dissatisfied hum.
The hawk-nosed man smiled, “Of course, we’d still need Young Master Qian’s skills.”
Hearing this, Cai Zhao felt her palms grow cold and clammy.
Sensing her distress, Chang Ning gently squeezed her hand—his palm dry and warm.
Cai Zhao held his thumb in her palm, a childlike gesture seeking trust and support.
Chang Ning quietly observed the girl for a moment before turning back. He was now familiar with the warmth rising in his chest. He knew that regardless of the demons or ghosts outside, he would always protect this girl.
As the four talked, Little Gong drew a blade from his boot and approached Fan Xingjia with a sinister grin.
Young Master Qian objected, “This is my room. If you splatter blood everywhere, I won’t be able to live here.”
The hawk-nosed man patted Little Gong’s shoulder, “I’ll do it.” He walked towards the chaise lounge, gathering energy in his palm.
Cai Zhao couldn’t stand by and watch Fan Xingjia be killed. She had already gathered energy in her palm when Little Gong drew his blade, determined to save Fan Xingjia’s life no matter what. Just as she was about to leap out, she felt a heavy pressure on her shoulder, halting her movement.
Chang Ning had already sprung into action like an arrow released from a fully drawn bow. His wide sleeves traced a stunning arc through the air as he delivered a powerful palm strike to the hawk-nosed man’s chest. Using all his current strength in that single blow, he sent the hawk-nosed man flying into the wall, coughing blood.
The four men were completely caught off guard, unaware that others had been hiding in the room. They were all stunned by the sudden attack.
Little Gong, enraged by the hawk-nosed man’s severe injury, charged at Chang Ning with his knife. However, his martial arts were far inferior to the hawk-nosed man’s, and his fate was predictable.
Young Master Qian, terrified, crouched on the ground, shaking.
Chen the steward reacted the quickest. He knew the hawk-nosed man’s martial arts were among the best in this house, yet he was defeated by a single palm strike from this sudden intruder. Though the attacker had the advantage of surprise, his martial prowess was undeniable. Engaging in combat would be suicide, so Chen decided to call for help instead.
He grabbed the teapot from the table and kicked open the nearest window, smashing the teapot outside. Just as he was about to cry for help, he felt a tug on his collar and was dragged back inside like a dead dog, thrown to the ground.
Fighting through the pain of his broken bones, he saw a small-framed sect disciple standing beside him. ‘He’ turned his palms inward in the air, and the two window shutters closed rapidly as if pulled by invisible hands.
Chen didn’t recognize this person, but he knew that technique—on the day of the grand ceremony, a plain-looking girl had used the same move to snatch a child from Luo Yuanrong’s hands from several zhang away.
He pointed at Cai Zhao in shock: “You, you’re Cai—Ah!” His scream was cut short as a short knife, the one Little Gong had been holding, was thrust into his throat.
Cai Zhao turned to look. The hawk-nosed man lay by the wall, his face covered in blood and his neck broken—clearly, Chang Ning had finished him off. Young Master Qian was still clinging to the bed leg, shaking like a sieve. Only Little Gong, lying on the ground, still clung to life.
However, the sound of the teapot shattering on the stone slab outside had alerted the nearby guards. Fortunately, the hawk-nosed man had earlier sent the guards far away for the “body transformation” procedure, but they would arrive soon.
Chang Ning stepped on Little Gong’s head and said coldly, “Besides this place, do you have any other hideouts? Tell the truth, and I’ll give you a quick death.”
Unexpectedly, Little Gong remained defiant, laughing through his pain: “Your Qingque Sect has already been infiltrated like a sieve. Your sect’s destruction is imminent. Are you still trying to act tough with me? Ha ha ha…” He mistook Chang Ning for a sect disciple based on his robes.
Chang Ning said no more. He swiftly kicked Little Gong onto his back and stomped on his spine, leaving him to die a slow, painful death.
Cai Zhao was deeply shocked.
By now, voices outside were drawing near—the guards had arrived.
Chang Ning tucked Fan Xingjia under his arm. Cai Zhao reached out to pull Young Master Qian, intending to take him along.
Young Master Qian quickly showed the shackles on his feet: “I-I-I can’t leave! My feet are chained!”
Cai Zhao turned to search the hawk-nosed man’s body, but Young Master Qian kindly reminded her: “The key isn’t on him—it’s their rule that the person with the key can’t stay with me.”
Cai Zhao returned, gripping the iron shackles and channeling her energy to break them, but they didn’t budge. She then looked for a sword to cut them.
Chang Ning glanced at the door: “These chains probably contain some star iron. Ordinary swords won’t cut them. Don’t waste your energy; you’ll just hurt your hands. If we cut off his feet, we can take him with us.”
Young Master Qian nearly fainted in fear, tears, and snot streaming down his face as he begged them not to.
Cai Zhao, of course, couldn’t do such a thing. She regretted not bringing a blade with her.
The chaotic voices and footsteps were now at the door. Cai Zhao had to give up.
She grabbed Young Master Qian’s neck and took out a fragrant pill from her waist pouch, forcing it into his mouth and closing his jaw to make him swallow.
Young Master Qian panicked: “Y-y-you, what did you make me eat… Help! Ah!”
Before he could finish, Cai Zhao knocked him out with a swift chop.
Cai Zhao stood up, ready to rush out with Chang Ning.
However, Chang Ning handed Fan Xingjia to her and said quietly, “I’ll draw them away. You leave from the back.” Earlier, while hiding behind the alcove, they had noticed a small window on the side, likely for ventilation in the bathroom.
Cai Zhao knew Chang Ning’s abilities… and his limits. It wouldn’t be difficult for him alone to escape the encirclement, so she took Fan Xingjia without a word and hid behind the alcove. Before entering, she noticed that Little Gong, lying on the ground, seemed to have stopped breathing, and his body was slightly distorted.
Just then, the room’s main door was violently kicked open. Chang Ning laughed and rushed towards it, unsurprisingly followed by a chorus of pained cries…
Taking advantage of the chaos at the front door, Cai Zhao carried Fan Xingjia out through the side window and quickly leaped out of the compound. After leaving the alley, she turned into a corner and put Fan Xingjia down, suddenly noticing something glinting on the back of his neck.
She carefully examined his collar and slowly pulled out an extremely fine gold needle from the third vertebra of his neck.
The gold needle trembled slightly, emitting a faint familiar scent along with the smell of blood.
A thought flashed through her mind as the fog began to clear. Cai Zhao put the gold needle in her waist pouch.
She was beginning to understand.
At this moment, the sect disciples patrolling the town had heard the commotion in the alley and were rushing over, blowing silver whistles. Leading them was Zhuang Shu, the senior disciple of Master Li Wenxun.
Cai Zhao looked down and saw that Fan Xingjia, with the gold needle removed, was groaning and about to wake up.
After a brief consideration, she placed Fan Xingjia at the entrance of the alley and quickly retreated. Only after seeing Zhuang Shu and his disciples discover Fan Xingjia did she swiftly depart.
She then ran at full speed, almost sprinting from the west end of town to the east before stopping to catch her breath, leaning on a signpost outside a restaurant. At that moment, she saw a group of people in crimson robes approaching, with Song Yu at the center.
Cai Zhao initially wanted to avoid them but suddenly remembered something urgent she needed to confirm with Song Yu. She glanced at a coarse pottery teapot on a small table by the restaurant entrance, meant for passing laborers to quench their thirst.
In a flash, she snatched it.
Hiding in an alley corner behind the shop where wastewater was dumped, Cai Zhao quickly wiped her face with a cloth dampened by the tea. She removed her fake skin and Adam’s apple, tossing them into the waste bucket, then let down her hair and rearranged it. Finally, she took off her outer sect robe, revealing the light red dress underneath—she had transformed back into the beloved Junior Sister Cai.
“Senior Brother, Senior Brother, wait a moment…” Little Sister Cai ran towards them, out of breath.
The guards surrounding Song Yu tensed, hands on their sword hilts, but relaxed when they saw it was just a sweaty young girl. Song Yu hurriedly went to meet her, and they all wore expressions of understanding.
Song Yu supported the girl’s arm and asked quietly, “Zhao Zhao, what’s wrong? Is someone chasing you?”
Cai Zhao had no time to explain this now and urgently said, “Senior Brother, I need to talk to you about something. Can we… speak privately?”
The girl’s eyes were bright, like two burning flames, both excited and anxious.
Song Yu felt his heart race just looking at her. He turned and gave some instructions to his guards, who immediately stepped back seven or eight paces, understanding… and then strained their ears to listen.
At this deserted street corner, Cai Zhao got straight to the point: “Senior Brother, those Guangtian Gate people who came yesterday weren’t sent by your father, but by you, right?”
Song Yu raised an eyebrow, his eyes showing appreciation. He admitted directly, “That’s correct.”
“Why did Senior Brother suddenly call for a large group of guards to come up the mountain? Even if you’re still recovering from your injuries, why do you need such precautions in your sect?” Cai Zhao asked.
Song Yu remained silent, pondering.
The girl didn’t seem to expect an answer and continued, “Because Senior Brother sensed something was wrong, a kind of wrongness that couldn’t be spoken of. Am I right?”
Song Yu suddenly looked up, his gaze intense.
Cai Zhao spoke earnestly, word by word: “Senior Brother, my father’s fate is unknown, and I’m at a crucial point in investigating something. I hope you can tell me, what exactly did you find strange these past few days?”
Song Yu hesitated internally, but looking at the girl’s determined eyes, he finally opened his mouth and said what he hadn’t told anyone until now—”I noticed that something was wrong with Master.”