Chapter 78: The Blade That Tests the Heart

                 

In the courtyard, two portions of mutton lay before Madam Lin—one from Meng Ruji, one from Mu Sui.

And Mu Sui was absent once again.

Meng Ruji’s gaze swept the courtyard, simmering with anger.

Madam Lin marked a point each for Mu Sui and Meng Ruji upon her wooden board, then asked: “Miss Meng, can you make braised mutton? If you can, I shall give you another point.”

Of course, Meng Ruji could.

She carried the two portions of mutton into the kitchen. While preparing them, irritation gnawed at her—how long did Mu Sui intend to keep avoiding her?

Suddenly, two “click‑clack” sounds came from the stove. Meng Ruji turned, seeing a familiar stone bounce twice, then transform into human form—red lips, pale skin, fox eyes. It was Mo Li.

“You’re here.” Meng Ruji glanced at him, swatting with a cloth. “Get down, don’t dirty my pots.”

Mo Li jumped down, moving beside her to study her face. “Little Meng, you’re sulking?”

“If you have business, speak.”

“It’s because you cannot see Mu Sui, isn’t it?” Mo Li smiled. “I saw him.”

Meng Ruji turned, glaring irritably. “Are you here to show off?”

“Not really.” Mo Li poked at the mutton. “Just came to check your progress. See if you need your father’s help.”

“There’s nothing you need to help…” Meng Ruji paused, glanced toward the entrance, then beckoned him closer, whispering: “Mu Sui and I don’t need your help, but that Ye Big River is suspicious.”

“Second son‑in‑law?” Mo Li lowered his voice, curious. “What’s strange about him?”

“Does No‑Return Land have soul‑possession techniques? Watching his words and actions, he no longer seems like Ye Big River. Though taciturn before, he was rigid and stubborn. Now I see neither rigidity nor stubbornness. And did Ye Big River ever like small animals this much? He spends his days feeding sheep… and chickens.”

Mo Li stroked his chin. “Since Zhan Ye died, when he returned, he has been strange.”

“Perfect timing for you to investigate. Don’t let us be the mantis stalking the cicada while he is the oriole behind.”

Mo Li nodded. “Leave it to me. I’ll give you an answer soon. Where is Ye Big River?”

Meng Ruji pouted. “Probably still feeding chickens.”

Mo Li was silent. “He is indeed strange.”

Leaving her to cook, Mo Li transformed into stone, leaping across rooftops, landing silently upon the chicken coop. Ye Chuan was squatting, arms around knees, watching chickens peck grain, expression serene.

Mo Li transformed back, squatting beside him. “Is it so interesting to watch?”

The chickens startled, then resumed pecking.

Ye Chuan did not turn, did not move, only replied calmly: “Yes.”

“Yes?” Mo Li tilted his head. “Aren’t you curious why I’m here?”

“We’ve been inside too long. You’d come check the situation.”

Sunlight filtered through mist, slanting into Ye Chuan’s pupils. In that dazed moment, Mo Li saw a glimmer—the radiance he had once seen upon the Human God, Mo Yi.

Mo Li froze, his lazy smile vanishing.

Ye Chuan turned, meeting his gaze. Mo Li shifted back an inch.

“What’s wrong?” Ye Chuan asked. “Why not seek Meng Ruji and Mu Sui instead of me?” He stood to leave, but Mo Li’s pale hand gripped his wrist tightly.

“I heard there’s a hidden vital point on the wrist. Strike it, glimpse the soul.”

Ye Chuan raised a brow. “Such nonsense—who told you this?”

“The Human God.”

Mo Li pressed hard until blood flowed. A phantom flickered across Ye Chuan’s face.

Mo Li reached to seize it. “Who are you?”

But the phantom slipped through his fingers like smoke, vanishing afar.

Ye Chuan collapsed, blocking Mo Li. By the time he looked up, the phantom was gone.

Mo Li tied Ye Chuan with rope. “Anyway, taking you away cannot be wrong.” He hoisted him and left.

Meanwhile, Meng Ruji braised mutton, unaware of the commotion.

By nightfall, Madam Lin sat waiting at the stone table. Mu Sui was still absent.

Meng Ruji brought two plates of braised mutton, sat irritably.

Madam Lin said: “There were mice in the backyard today.”

“Really?” Meng Ruji glanced back, not seeing Ye Chuan. She thought Mo Li must have acted. Calmly, she set bowls and chopsticks. “Then tomorrow let Mu Sui and me catch mice together.”

Madam Lin nodded. “That’s right. You two haven’t met for days. My fault for keeping you busy.” She tasted the mutton, nodding. “Very good. Miss Meng has missed Qianshan Jun. Why wait until tomorrow…”

She looked into the darkness. “Miss Meng worked hard today. Won’t Qianshan Jun come taste it? This is my request.”

Rustling footsteps came. Mu Sui emerged, gloomy, awkward, and sat across from Meng Ruji.

Hmph.

Meng Ruji crossed her arms, half‑laughing coldly. “Never thought I’d see Qianshan Jun.”

Mu Sui turned his face away.

Madam Lin ate silently.

Meng Ruji, hungry, picked up meat, torn between eating and throwing it at Mu Sui’s face. Who kisses someone then hides?

Even if she wished to strip his clothes—if unwilling, just be unwilling. Why hide?

She cursed inwardly. Just as she raised the meat, Madam Lin set down her chopsticks. “Enough.”

Meng Ruji looked curiously.

Madam Lin looked at Mu Sui. “Since you dislike her so much, stab her once.”

Meng Ruji: “Huh?”

Mu Sui was shocked.

Madam Lin remained calm. “This is my request.”

Meng Ruji cursed Madam Lin silently, then looked at Mu Sui. His brow furrowed, the cursed poison taking effect.

She ran—not away, but into the kitchen, seizing the cleaver, then rushed back.

Mu Sui had stood, facing Madam Lin.

Meng Ruji sprinted, seized his hand, forced him to grip the cleaver, pulling it toward herself—

Toward her hair.

The cleaver fell with a clang. Not a strand was cut.

Mu Sui was shocked, frozen.

Meng Ruji breathed heavily, watching his expression return to normal—the poison had stopped.

She sighed in relief.

Madam Lin applauded, laughing. “Wonderful, wonderful. Such a stab—truly wonderful.”

Meng Ruji looked at her.

Madam Lin laughed until she coughed, then nodded. “Miss Meng, if I had a son, I’d want you as my daughter‑in‑law.”

Thank heavens she doesn’t.

Meng Ruji said nothing. Madam Lin smiled, returning to her room. “Let’s stop here. I’m going to rest.”

Meng Ruji exhaled, sat, and ate the now‑cold meat.

Mu Sui still stood, stunned.

“Sit down.” Meng Ruji told him. “We must finish these two plates today. Don’t waste them, or we’ll wrong the sheep.”

After silence, Mu Sui sat. Together they ate, silently, as if consuming not sheep, but their own futures.

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