Chapter 10: The Benefits of Being Blind

                             

The rain in Jiuxiao City came and went, and another two days slipped quietly past.

Su Muyu stood beneath the eaves, watching the thin veil of rain drift down like falling silk threads.

Many days had passed, yet Mu Yumu still had not returned—a troubling sign. But Tang Lianyue had not appeared either, meaning Mu Yumu had successfully held him back. How she managed it remained a mystery.

“I hope she’s alright,” Su Muyu murmured.

“Worried about Sister Yumu?” Bai Hehuai’s voice sounded behind him.

“Yes,” Su Muyu replied.

“Do you love her?” she asked bluntly.

“I do—but not the way you’re imagining. More like family,” he answered gently.

Bai Hehuai stuck out her tongue. “Such a cliché answer! Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.”

“It’s the truth. She grew up with us. If anyone has feelings for her, it’s probably Changhe.” Su Muyu lowered his gaze. “I’m not sure.”

Bai Hehuai blinked, then repeatedly shook her head. “Your relationships are so messy. Tsk, tsk.”

“Two days have passed. Is the Divine Physician ready?” Su Muyu shifted the subject.

“Of course! Have your people prepare a hundred red candles and eighteen bronze mirrors in the room. The Patriarch’s body has been properly conditioned. I’ll rest today and perform the Soul Transfer Technique tomorrow.” Bai Hehuai spoke with full confidence.

“Then we’ll rely on the Divine Physician.” Su Muyu handed her a feathered arrow. “A Sky-Piercing Arrow from Thunder Gate. Pull the mechanism and it shoots out on its own. It explodes on impact—keep it with you. It may save your life.”

“Thunder Gate weapons? Must’ve cost a fortune.” Bai Hehuai turned the arrow curiously in her hands.

Su Muyu smiled faintly. “A gift from the days we fought together.”

“Thunder Gate is a righteous sect. They fought alongside Dark River?” she asked.

“Dark River is no one’s enemy,” Su Muyu replied simply.

---

Outside Jiuxiao City — Desolate Pavilion

Mu Yumu’s purple robe clung to her skin, soaked through and outlining her graceful figure—a temptation to any ordinary man. Unfortunately, she faced Tang Lianyue.

“You’re truly persistent,” Tang Lianyue sighed.

“Persistent? Is that praise?” Mu Yumu leaned weakly against the stone table, exhaustion clear in every movement.

Tang Lianyue froze, then realized her teasing and snapped, “Enough. I don’t want to kill you, but my patience has limits.”

“Killing… I’m already dying.” Mu Yumu suddenly coughed blood, collapsing to one knee.

Tang Lianyue frowned. Over the past few days, Mu Yumu had staged countless dramatic collapses—it was hard to take her seriously. But this time she crumpled completely, her body falling silent on the ground.

He turned to leave, but after several dozen steps, he looked back.

She was still motionless.

Could she truly be dead?

She wasn’t friend or family—she was the guard of his enemy, the woman who had caused him endless trouble. Her death should have pleased him.

But instead, unease gnawed at him.

Tang Lianyue sighed and returned. Standing over her, he murmured, “I’ll save you only because I dislike killing—especially women.”

He bent down to check her condition.

Mu Yumu suddenly turned and wrapped her arms weakly around his neck.

“You’re still trying to fool me.” Tang Lianyue’s fingers slid toward his hidden blade.

But this time, her grip was fragile. Her face was pale, her breath shallow, yet she still managed a faint smile. “So you do care.”

“You—!” Tang Lianyue could only sigh.

“This time I really am dying. Your hidden weapons were too strong. I couldn’t stop you. Brother Yu and the others will handle what remains…” Her voice faded as she lost consciousness.

“You won’t die.” Tang Lianyue steadied her, channeling inner force into her back. Warmth spread through her body, and though unconscious, Mu Yumu tightened her hold around his neck. Tang Lianyue awkwardly turned away but finally lifted her and began carrying her toward Jiuxiao City.

---

Luojiuxiao Inn

Su Zhe ordered tea, lit his pipe, and sat in the corner, quietly enjoying the gentle rain outside. Su Changhe descended from upstairs and, seeing Su Zhe so relaxed, smiled. “Uncle Zhe seems to be enjoying life.”

“I’m nothing more than a sword in your hand. When you need me, I strike. When you don’t, I enjoy myself.” Su Zhe took a puff, then spoke in the old formal dialect, “May everything end when this rain ends.”

The innkeeper yawned behind the counter. Business had dwindled in the rain; the hall was empty except for Su Zhe, and all upstairs guests had inexplicably checked out. If this continued, the inn might soon close.

Just then, the door opened.

A man in black entered, carrying a woman in purple.

Tang Lianyue and Mu Yumu.

Su Zhe immediately covered Su Changhe’s face with a human-skin mask.

Tang Lianyue noticed the movement. An ordinary-looking youth stared back at him, and a middle-aged man puffed calmly on his pipe, eyeing Mu Yumu in Tang Lianyue’s arms. “Young man, you seem quite lucky with the ladies,” Su Zhe teased.

Tang Lianyue ignored him. “Innkeeper, your best room.”

“Only one?” the innkeeper asked cheerfully. “Very well—the finest room we have! Laifeng, lead the guests upstairs!”

Su Changhe reached for the dagger in his sleeve. Su Zhe chuckled. “Between your Inch Sword and his Finger Blade… which is stronger?”

Su Changhe snorted. “Uncle Zhe wants to find out?”

“You want to know too.” Su Zhe exhaled softly. “You lured Tang Lianyue here to deal with the Patriarch. As for that Mu girl… what man wouldn’t be moved by her?”

---

✨ Clean, Atmospheric Rewrite — Hé Yan Gambling Scene

Silver piled high on the table. Someone even added a jade pendant to the stack. A novice youth with absurdly good luck naturally drew attention, and soon the room was packed with spectators.

“Big.”

“Open—!”

“Young Master, please choose.”

“Small.”

“Again.”

“Open—!”

“Again.”

“Open—!”

“Again.”

“Open—!”

Silver notes formed a glittering mountain in front of Hé Yan. Those who had mocked her earlier were now silent. Even a fool could see she was no clueless amateur. If Letong House weren’t so reputable, some might have assumed she was colluding with the house.

The drum of the night watch faintly echoed from the street outside.

“It’s getting late,” Hé Yan said. “I should head back.”

“Young Master,” the long-bearded elder smiled, “how about one last round—with different stakes?”

Hé Yan lifted her eyes. “What stakes?”

“No more big or small. I see you’re skilled. How about guessing the exact numbers?” He pushed all the silver and jewelry to the center. “If you win, everything is yours.”

Hé Yan looked at the gleaming pile.

She’d already won plenty, and staying any longer wasn’t wise. But she thought of He Yunsheng’s eager face when talking about school… and the single worn, thin robe she herself wore.

“Alright,” she said.

The crowd erupted.

Guessing big or small was one thing—guessing exact numbers was entirely different. That took true skill. Most would never attempt it.

Hé Yan pushed all her own silver notes forward.

If she lost, everything vanished.
If she won… it would support her family and He Yunsheng’s studies for years.

Spectators piled on their own bets, the excitement reaching a fever pitch.

The long-bearded elder lifted the bowl slightly. The bronze dice clattered sharply inside.

Hé Yan’s thoughts drifted.

Her gambling skills had once been terrible. After marrying into the Xu family, she played cards at banquets and lost miserably every time. Xu Zhiheng would laugh and tease, “How can you be so foolish?”

Those were rare moments when he seemed warm to her. She had been happy then—so happy she secretly trained to improve, determined to make him proud.

But before she could learn… she went blind.

The Xu family couldn’t let a blind woman appear in public. She stopped leaving the mansion, trapped in endless dull days. Unable to see, she turned to sound—learning shapes through echoes, steps, and movement.

She trained relentlessly.
She wanted to live without depending on anyone.

She learned to move around alone, practiced with branches like swords, and began using bamboo tubes to shake dice, memorizing the subtle differences in the way each number struck the table.

At first she failed constantly.
But one day… she succeeded.

Servants whispered that the First Madam had gone mad. But soon they realized she didn’t need anyone’s help to live. She could identify each servant by voice and knew the exact placement of every object in the mansion.

If she weren’t blind, one would think she could see.

Xu Zhiheng praised her and held her hand. Hé Yan had been delighted, yet something felt off—a disappointment she couldn’t name. Looking back now, she had probably heard the coldness beneath his praise… but chose not to face it.

Love, she thought, truly is blind.

The dice stopped with a sharp “bang.”

Hé Yan closed her eyes, returning briefly to those silent days in the Xu mansion—shaking dice alone, uncovering them alone, seeking light in darkness.

“Two. Five,” she said.

The bowl lifted.

Two. Five.

Silence.
Then gasps.
Then an explosion of shouts.

A well-dressed noble youth grabbed her arm. “Master! From today on, please accept me as your disciple!”

Hé Yan gently pulled his hand off.

The long-bearded elder’s smile froze for half a heartbeat, then he stroked his beard amiably. “Young Master’s skills are extraordinary. All this silver is yours.” After a pause: “Might I know your esteemed name? Would you honor me with a cup of tea before leaving?”

Hé Yan tucked everything into her clothing. “I’m nobody worth naming. It’s late. Another day, perhaps.” She slipped through the crowd and left Letong House.

Excited chatter filled the gambling hall behind her.

The long-bearded elder ascended the stairs. Someone bowed before him.

“Follow them,” he ordered.

A burly man cracked his knuckles and signaled to his subordinates.

“Win my silver and think you can walk away?” he growled. “Nothing’s that easy, fool.”

He led his men after Hé Yan.

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