All For The Fate - Chapter 30
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“What’s happening outside?” The guard had caught the uproar too. Curious, he moved toward the doorway for a look.
Meng Ruji seized Mu Sui’s arm and dragged him into a shadowed corner of the hall.
Mu Sui turned on her, his gaze sharp with open disdain.
“Yan Tianjun? Where’s all that survival ability now?”
But Meng Ruji kept her head lowered, rubbing at her temples as if deep in troubled thought.
Watching her, remembering how she had spent all their silver on his medicine, Mu Sui’s eyes darkened. He began weighing his options. If she was set on rescuing that insufferable whatever-jun, should he try to talk her down—or, failing that, find a way to take her away by force?
“There’s no choice. Hand me the six silver pearls first.”
Meng Ruji suddenly lifted her head, her face earnest.
Mu Sui froze.
He had expected this, yet hearing her demand still felt like a blow. She really meant to spend everything they had—for him? For anyone?
His expression darkened further. A killing intent stirred within him, aimed squarely at that pale-faced, red-lipped man.
His hand slipped toward his bosom where the pearls lay—not to hand them over, but to knock Meng Ruji unconscious and carry her away if need be…
“Hurry.” Meng Ruji pressed. “That Master of Linlan Mountain may not have much skill, but he has wealth enough to cause trouble. To break free from his grasp, I’ve scoured my memory for options. There’s only one formation—fast as the wind, but once triggered, it won’t stop until the pearls’ power burns out.”
Mu Sui raised a brow, his face softening slightly.
“I dislike such reckless techniques,” Meng Ruji muttered. “We’ll have no control over where we crash. Dangerous, yes. But better than being trapped.”
Her hand stretched out toward him.
Mu Sui glanced at her palm, then asked quietly:
“Not saving him?”
“Save who?”
Two words. Utterly heartless.
It was she who had cast him aside, fled on her own, and now couldn’t care less about his life or death. No matter the standpoint, her behavior was ruthlessly cold.
Yet Mu Sui’s lips curved.
He wasn’t a good person either.
“Oh. Yan Tianjun…”
Meng Ruji finally recalled. “Save him? With what? We’ve got nothing.”
We.
Mu Sui lowered his gaze, hiding the involuntary curve of his mouth.
“Could Yan Tianjun really be captured so easily? This old ghost survived the mortal world for a thousand years, and who knows how long he’s lingered in Wuliu Land. Wasn’t that place perilous? Yet he endured. Clearly, he has means.”
Mu Sui nodded. “Right. In Wuliu Land, strength is measured in gold and silver. If his stone body can shatter a golden pearl, then his flesh alone is worth more than one.”
“Exactly. Which is why this whole capture reeks of suspicion. We can’t just—”
The word save never left her lips.
Suddenly, the world came crashing down.
The roof split apart with a thunderous crack, bricks and tiles tumbling like a waterfall. Dust billowed, morning light slicing through in sharp beams.
“My Yinyuan Hall!” the guard shrieked—only to be knocked cold by a falling tile.
Mu Sui reacted instantly. He pulled Meng Ruji into his arms, shielding her with his body.
In his embrace, she blinked in shock—not from fear, but from the sheer swiftness of his response.
Catching her wide-eyed stare, Mu Sui frowned and tugged the cloth up over her face, just as she had done for him earlier.
“Cover your mouth and nose,” he ordered.
“Oh.” Meng Ruji obeyed.
“I’m so heartbroken.”
The voice cut through like a blade.
Whatever strange warmth had flickered in Meng Ruji’s chest was gone in an instant. She shoved Mu Sui away and looked up through the hole in the roof.
Mo Li descended with eerie composure, Luo Yingfeng dangling from his grip.
Morning light traced his features into stark halves of shadow and brilliance.
“Unfilial daughter,” Mo Li chided, “you didn’t even come to save your father.”
“Save who? Look at you—do you look like someone who needs saving?” Meng Ruji snapped, pointing furiously. “Whose father are you supposed to be?!”
Mo Li clutched Luo Yingfeng like a hawk with a chick, then theatrically wiped at his eyes with his free hand. “Ah, scolded again. With such cruelty, how could I ever hope you’d provide for me in my old age?”
“Don’t hope!”
Meng Ruji gritted her teeth, only now realizing that the cries of so majestic, so imposing earlier had been for Mo Li. The one they said was carrying someone—he had brought Luo Yingfeng. No wonder the Linlan disciples had rushed about in panic.
“Master Luo,” Mo Li sighed theatrically at the man in his grip, “I told you. My daughter has no filial heart. She won’t provide for me at all.”
Meng Ruji and Mu Sui looked closer—something was wrong with Luo Yingfeng.
His eyes were vacant, his expression stiff. Even when he faced them, he gave no sign of recognition. His response to Mo Li came halting, word by word:
“Unfilial daughter… no respect…”
A puppet.
Mu Sui loosened the cloth over his face, his voice cold: “What did you do to him?”
Mo Li smiled slyly. “Little Meng, guess.”
Meng Ruji’s tone was ice. “Yan Tianjun—haunting dreams, bending minds.”
“Dream haunting…” Mu Sui frowned. “What’s your endgame?”
Mo Li’s eyes sharpened, his tone cool. “I told you. I want someone to provide for me in my old age.”
“How absurd can you be!” Meng Ruji snapped. “This Master of Linlan Mountain is nothing but a quail in your grasp. If you can control him, why not make him provide for you?”
Mo Li glanced at Luo Yingfeng, then sneered. “His heart is black. I don’t trust him. When I’m truly weak, he’d crush me underfoot.”
Meng Ruji’s lips curled coldly. “And you think I won’t pluck your hair one strand at a time when you’re weak?”
“You won’t.”
Their eyes locked, sharp and unyielding.
Mo Li only crossed his arms, tilting his head like a rogue unmoved by threats. “And what reason do you have to refuse me now? Before, you claimed poverty. But now…”
His gaze swept meaningfully around them.
Meng Ruji’s instincts screamed. She lunged to silence him, but too late.
“Haven’t you already married the Lord of Zhuliu City?”
The words dropped like a thunderclap.
Meng Ruji froze, then turned stiffly toward Mu Sui.
He too was caught off guard. He had long suspected her sudden marriage scheme, but never imagined Yan Tianjun himself lurked behind it.
Still, Mu Sui played his part. His face shifted—confusion, shock—and he repeated softly:
“Lord of Zhuliu City?”
Meng Ruji rubbed her forehead. “I can explain…”
Whether Mu Sui truly cared or simply feigned ignorance, having her scheme exposed so soon after signing the contract made her flush with shame.
“Little Meng,” Mo Li called sweetly, “did you forget? Yesterday’s marriage contract—I went with you to sign it…”
Mu Sui’s expression darkened further.
“You becoming half the master of Zhuliu City? My idea as well…”
Meng Ruji forced a dry smile at Mu Sui. “Give me time… I can explain.”
Which sounded a lot like: Give me time to come up with a better lie.
“Little Meng, when you drink water, don’t forget who dug the well.”
Her patience snapped. “Shut up for once!”
“I still have more to say.” Mo Li smiled innocently.
Meng Ruji’s head throbbed with fury.
Mo Li only tightened his grip on Luo Yingfeng and tapped his shoulder.
Luo’s hands moved in stiff seals. A sheet of white paper shot from the formation, floating before Meng Ruji.
Her eyes widened. It bore her image—and the bold words: Indenture Contract.
“Provide for your old age all you want, but what’s this indenture contract supposed to be!?”
Mo Li’s tone was patient, coaxing. “Linlan Mountain’s little trick. I know you resist the idea now, but I believe—after time together—you’ll warm to me. To make sure we have that time, sign this first. When you willingly provide for me, I’ll tear it apart…”
Before he could finish, a hand shot out and snatched the paper down.
Meng Ruji turned. Mu Sui held it, his face bleak with cold fury.
Before she could speak, he ripped the contract to shreds.
“You can’t force her.”