Mr. Qian was drying his hair in the courtyard when a crash of voices erupted from inside the main house. A moment later, the handsome young man was kicked out the door, water still dripping down his cheeks.
Mr. Qian froze. "Miss Xiao Cai is bathing in there — and he was inside? That's... not right."
— He said this as a man whose business dealings ran unconventional, but whose moral floor remained firmly in place.
Mu Qingyan glanced at him. "The men a brothel girl has known are beyond counting. I doubt she finds it troubling."
Qian Gongzi went quiet.
He watched Mu Qingyan's tall figure disappear down the path and cursed under his breath. There were truly vicious people in this world.
A short while later, Cai Zhao stepped out of the house, fully dressed and composed. Spotting the young man lingering in the courtyard, she asked his name.
Qian Gongzi explained that his master, the Thousand-Faced Old Man, had found him on a day of heavy snowfall and named him accordingly —
"So your name is Qian Haoceng?" Cai Zhao said, nodding. "Your master has a literary touch."
Qian Gongzi blinked. "No. My name is Qian Xueshen."
Cai Zhao's interest immediately faded. "Ah. The poetics are passable, but the depth isn't there."
Qian Xueshen said nothing.
Deep snow wasn't poetic enough? There were truly vicious people in this world.
Cheng Bo arrived to call them for the meal.
The table was generous: crispy duck that shattered between the teeth with a satisfying crack; eight-treasure braised chicken gleaming with a warmth that reached the chest; roast pork glazed in fresh raspberry sauce, fat yet clean on the tongue, nearly dissolving before you could swallow it; jade cabbage stuffed with shrimp, cool and bright; and a bowl of scallop and shark fin soup so rich it was almost criminal to stop eating.
Deep in the mountains, in this cold — where Cheng Bo had sourced all of this was anyone's guess.
Mu Qingyan barely touched his own food. He spent the meal piling dishes onto Cai Zhao's plate, and watching the girl eat with round, full cheeks, her face warm under the lamplight. It was a pity she was entirely ungrateful. Once satisfied, she wiped her mouth and stood.
"Master Mu came to our aid in a moment of danger." She pressed her fists together in a proper bow. "Now that we've eaten and rested, we'll be on our way. No need to see us off." — She had only just learned Cheng Bo call him that.
She grabbed Qian Xueshen, still gnawing on a duck neck, and steered him toward the door.
Mu Qingyan rose from his seat. "Let me come with you to the snow mountains."
Cai Zhao stopped. She turned slowly, suspicion sharpening her eyes. "How do you know I'm going to the snow mountains?"
Mu Qingyan smiled. "Because you and I share a—"
"Goodbye." She grabbed Qian Xueshen's collar again.
"Fine, fine — I guessed." Mu Qingyan pressed one palm to Qian Xueshen's shoulder. The young man winced and sank back into his seat against his will.
"There are only two ways out of the Qingque Sect's reach," Mu Qingyan said. "Either find someone to break the Great Transfiguration Law, or find a way to solve it yourself. Changchun Temple, Xuankong Temple, Peiqiong Villa, Luoying Valley — all of them lie south of Jiuli Mountain. Only Daxue Mountain lies north. When you came to the five-way crossing at Qingque Town and chose the northern road, I knew."
— If Cai Zhao hadn't been so fed up with Qian Xueshen's habits, she would never have agreed to stop at the bamboo forest. But north she had gone.
Cai Zhao's pace slowed slightly. "Fine. You guessed right. The snow mountains are a long journey and I've wasted enough time." She reached for the back of Qian Xueshen's neck.
Mu Qingyan held him down again. The young man hissed.
"Zhaozhao." Mu Qingyan's voice, for once, was level and earnest. "This is your first time leaving Luoying Valley. You don't know the world's depth yet. The snow mountains are not a walk from the town gate to the rouge shop. That country is brutal and full of traps. One careless step and you're in real trouble."
Cai Zhao crossed her arms. "I know. My aunt was nearly swindled the first time she walked the martial world alone. But so what — there's a first time for everything. Before last night, I had never broken into a mountain stronghold and taken someone by force. I still did it. I don't even know how I slipped past all those teachers without hurting any of them."
"Because you killed the false Zeng Dalou in public," Mu Qingyan said quietly. Then, reading her expression, he added more carefully: "...you did kill the false Zeng Dalou."
Cai Zhao narrowed her eyes. "How did you know I was going after Zeng Dalou?"
"Your father was betrayed by someone who knew him. There were few such people in Qingque Sect. Aside from Sect Leader Qi — that leaves Zeng Dalou."
"Why not my false master?"
"Because your false master told your father that Sect Leader Qi was injured and needed rest. Then, with his very next breath, your father saw 'Sect Leader Qi' run down the mountain in perfect health. That contradiction alone would have sharpened his guard — he wouldn't have walked into a trap so cleanly. It had to be Zeng Dalou's doing. I just haven't worked out the full shape of it yet."
Qian Xueshen paused rubbing his shoulder and looked at Mu Qingyan.
Tall. Sharp eyes. Good face.
He just had absolutely no idea when to stop talking.
Cai Zhao kept her voice even. "Then how was I to be certain it was an impostor and not the real Zeng Dalou — or someone bought off like Steward Chen? If I killed the wrong man, those teachers would have come for my head."
She thought of last night, the way she had said goodbye to Song Yu. The weight of that resolve.
"That's precisely what confirms it," Mu Qingyan said. "The real Zeng Dalou once crossed paths with your father in his youth. He was at the rear lines during the Battle of Qingluo River eighteen years ago. He knew your father's 'plucking flowers and leaves' technique — a sweep attack, not a straight strike. He would never have left such a glaring flaw at the Yuelai Inn massacre. Whoever struck your father that night looked like Zeng Dalou. He was not Zeng Dalou."
Qian Xueshen looked up again.
Not that he had nothing to say. He simply did not have a brain large enough to keep pace.
Cai Zhao drew a breath and arranged her face into a polite smile. "Mu Shaojun is indeed brilliantly perceptive. Nothing slips past him. Ordinary people like me can only rely on brute force."
She grabbed Qian Xueshen hard by the back of the neck and dragged him forward. He stumbled up grinning through the pain — then was pressed back down by Mu Qingyan's palm. He exhaled sharply. The bruising between his shoulder and neck was getting worse.
"Zhaozhao doesn't rely on brute force alone. That's what makes her impressive." Mu Qingyan said it with complete sincerity. "What I didn't expect was that she'd bring him out with her. Lucky Song Yuzhi was there."
Cai Zhao turned her head, very slowly. "How do you know Song Yuzhi helped me?"
"With your ability, escaping alone would have been no obstacle. But you brought Qian Xueshen out at the same time. Someone had to clear the way." He paused. "Yin Dai'er was the cunning rabbit with three burrows — she would have left either a person or a hidden passage inside the sect. Given that she gave both the Qinghong and Baihong Swords to her eldest daughter, most of her secrets likely went to Lady Qinglian as well. Song Yuzhi would have known."
He continued before Cai Zhao could respond.
"But Zhaozhao — don't mistake Song Yuzhi's help for goodwill. He had already sensed something wrong with Sect Leader Qi. Once I exposed Thousand Faces Gate, he would have understood that his son Song Shijun, due to arrive soon, was heading into danger. But sending Song Shijun to challenge Sect Leader Qi's identity based solely on a few words from me? That was too great a risk. One wrong step and it would look as though Guangtian Gate was positioning itself to seize power over the Beichen faction."
He let that settle.
"Now you've publicly exposed the false Zeng Dalou. The Thousand Faces Gate's Transfiguration method has resurfaced in the open world. Song Shijun can now go to Jiuli Mountain with a legitimate cause — even the sect leader's own disciple was a planted fake. How could anyone not be suspicious? Guangtian Gate never moved directly. They simply waited for the fishermen's share."
Qian Xueshen sat still and said nothing.
From where he stood — a local, after all, and one who'd been kidnapped into this mess — the logic was clean. The plan to install a puppet as first figure of the Beichen faction was already broken. It was only a matter of time before the false Qi Yunke was unmasked.
Whoever stepped forward now to steady the situation and hold the line would come out with enormously elevated standing. Peiqiong Villa, still recovering from the Demon Cult's ambush, would not be fast enough. Guangtian Gate would arrive first, with the strength and credibility to challenge the false Qi Yunke and his forces.
The clear losers in this whole affair were Qingque Sect and Luoying Valley — the former in disgrace, the latter's leader missing and fate unknown.
That was the shape of it.
He kept rubbing his neck and said nothing.
Cai Zhao's expression darkened. "Fishermen's share. So you're saying I'm the snipe and the impostor is the clam, and Guangtian Gate walks off with both."
Mu Qingyan considered for a moment. "It sounds absurd. But as an outcome, it isn't inaccurate."
Cai Zhao laughed, sharp and humorless. "Hilarious. Truly hilarious. I can't trust my own fellow disciple — but I'm supposed to trust the young master of a demon sect?" She didn't reach for Qian Xueshen this time. She walked straight out, head down, fury in every step.
The door swung open and slammed hard into the frame behind her.
Mu Qingyan stared at it for a long moment without speaking.
Qian Xueshen got to his feet and sighed. "Young Master, I mean no offense — but you can't speak to a girl that way."
Mu Qingyan looked at him.
"Her father is missing. In her heart, every faction's scheming and every power struggle in the martial world means nothing against whether her father is alive." He paused. "Shaojun shouldn't have said it like that."
Under ordinary circumstances, this would be the moment Mu Qingyan asked how he ought to have put it.
But Mu Qingyan was not an ordinary person.
Something shifted behind those eyes. He raised one hand and swept his sleeve outward. A surge of formation energy launched Qian Xueshen two full yards through the air. He hit the ground like a dropped sack.
Now it wasn't just his shoulders and neck. Everything hurt.
Cai Zhao had been walking through the bamboo grove for the better part of half an hour. She recited the first twenty lines of Qi Sheng Cai under her breath until the heat left her chest. She had just steadied herself when she heard footsteps and turned to find Mu Qingyan coming after her.
She closed her eyes briefly, then faced him and spoke first, her expression composed. "I was the one who lost my temper just now. Shaojun has helped me more than I can account for. I shouldn't have acted that way."
Mu Qingyan heard the distance in her voice. His eyes dimmed slightly. "No — I chose my words badly. Don't be angry. In my eyes, Zhaozhao is remarkable."
"After you recovered from your injuries, you could have left long ago," she said, shaking her head. "These past days you've taken risks alongside me, and I'm grateful for all of it. But that's enough."
She felt she had said what needed saying. She stepped past him and walked on, intending to collect Qian Xueshen and depart at once.
She had taken no more than a few steps when a wind struck her from behind — powerful and sudden, carrying with it a piercing, musical cry like bronze bells struck in open sky.
She spun around.
Mu Qingyan stood exactly where she had left him, still and unhurried. Behind him, two enormous birds had landed on the roof in a cascade of wings. White feathers, gray feathers, brilliant crested heads and bright fierce eyes, each bird standing two full heads taller than a man, proud as anything alive. Their wings, spread wide, threw a wind that pressed against her chest — three, four yards across, at least.
Cai Zhao had heard of creatures like these only in her aunt's old stories.
She tilted her head back and stared.
"Without stopping to eat or sleep, riding hard the whole way, it still takes nearly ten days to reach the snow mountains on foot," Mu Qingyan said. "On my Jinling Jipeng, you'll arrive in two or three."
Cai Zhao pressed her lips together. "But they only listen to you."
Mu Qingyan shook his head. "Shortly after I recovered, I had Cheng Bo give them a piece of your clothing. They already know your scent. I'll bring them to you myself now, and they'll follow your command."
Cai Zhao looked down at the ground for a long moment.
"Lending them to me would have been enough," she said, quietly.