A burst of cursing announced them.
From the second floor they descended slowly — a tall, straight-backed young man with a nobleman's bearing, and behind him a small, pretty girl who kept close to his shadow like she was afraid the floor might bite her.
The fat man below, still dusting porcelain shards off his head, had been furious enough to stamp his feet. One look at Mu Cai and the words flew out of him: "It was you two bastards who set that trap — you think you can just walk around like you won't die for this, I'll—"
Mu Qingyan raised one hand, sleeve rippling.
"This brother seems angry," he said pleasantly. "A small matter isn't worth the damage to your health."
The sleeve fell. Every broken shard scattered across the tables and floor lifted in a sudden rush of wind and buried itself — clink by clink — into the earthen wall.
The lobby went quiet.
Every eye in the room found them. The fat man, still sideways, wasn't stupid. He knew the difference between someone he could push and someone he couldn't. He smiled.
The young man gave his name as Yan Ning. The girl was his sister, Feng Xia. A sharp-eyed observer noted they'd come from the same guest room, which — given the different surnames — sparked its own quiet round of reasoning. Half-siblings, someone decided. Same father, different mother. The logic spread from table to table and everyone found it satisfactory.
When the fat man's turn came to introduce himself, he tried to hedge. He didn't get far.
"Which position do you hold in Siqi Sect?" Mu Qingyan asked, almost offhandedly.
The fat man was still deciding whether to give a false name when the man at the adjacent table spoke first.
"His surname is Jin, given name Baohui. Uncle to the Yang Sect leader of Siqi Sect."
Mu Qingyan bowed without warmth. "Uncle Jin. Forgive my poor manners."
Jin Baohui's face darkened. He wheeled on the man who'd spoken. "Surname Zhou! Mind your own affairs!"
The man — Zhou Zhiqin — had been drinking steadily. He half-rose to respond, but the person beside him pressed him back down. "Leave it." Dongfang Xiao's voice was quiet and final. Jin Baohui was, by generational reckoning, Zhou Zhiqin's elder. The six northern sects traveled together when it counted. This wasn't worth it.
Mu Qingyan was already turning toward their table.
"Yan is unworthy," he said, with the easy smile of someone who knew exactly what he looked like. "Might I ask your names, seniors?"
He had that quality — the pleasant voice, the open expression — that made people want to answer honestly. Zhou Zhiqin gave his name without hesitation. Dongfang Xiao followed. "Zhongzhou. Dongfang Xiao."
Mu Qingyan expressed deep admiration. Behind him, Cai Zhao muttered under her breath: "Brother, you've never actually heard of either of them. You're not even trying to be sincere."
"Though the two seniors keep a low profile," Mu Qingyan replied without missing a beat, "even the most ignorant person has heard of Peiqiong Villa. Your reputation speaks for itself. You — " a slight tilt of his head — "are tearing down the room."
Cai Zhao's face went pink and she drooped. "Then I won't say anything."
Several servants nearby nearly choked. This was the same girl who had chopped someone's hand off the day before. Were they still dreaming? Had the dream followed them into morning?
Zhou Zhiqin, despite the grief pressing down on him all morning, found himself smiling. He looked at Cai Zhao. "This little one has a good nature."
Cai Zhao's head pulled back like a startled turtle. Mu Qingyan said, with a calm that barely concealed the knife in it: "Our father always says my sister has a hundred faces. She fits right in with everyone." Cai Zhao cursed him silently and wished very much to twist something.
Dongfang Xiao thought privately: if this man is her half-brother, the father must have had quite an interesting second marriage.
Zhou Zhiqin watched the girl with something older and sadder in his eyes, and finally said: "Since you two don't seem deeply rooted in the martial world — what brings you to a barren peak like this? The snow mountains are no place for wandering. There are beasts up there that eat men whole." His voice caught. "Return. Just return while you can..."
He couldn't finish.
Cai Zhao asked carefully: "Senior... did something happen?"
Dongfang Xiao answered for him. "Brother Zhou had one son. Loved him more than anything. The boy came up this mountain at the turn of last summer and autumn — practicing his way through the world, as young men do. His attendants brought back half a body. We still don't know what he encountered."
Cai Zhao's face fell. She said, with unpolished sincerity: "Then it must be worse for Senior Zhou to come back here."
Zhou Zhiqin knew the siblings' names and story were likely invented. But the girl's concern sat in her face like something real, without performance. He exhaled. "The ungrateful boy was reckless. He paid for it. But I..." His voice broke. "I still want to see where it happened. Even half a body deserves to come home."
The snow outside offered nothing. Cai Zhao held her tongue because she had nothing useful to say.
Dongfang Xiao sighed. "I'm accompanying Brother Zhou. But for you two — better to stop here."
Cai Zhao looked at Mu Qingyan. He was already thinking.
"We have a reason that can't be helped," he said simply. "We have to go up."
Zhou Zhiqin and Dongfang Xiao did not press.
Mu Qingyan tilted his head, shifting tone. "On the second floor just now, I heard mention that several parties here plan to ascend this afternoon. Our siblings came along the road and heard the same warnings about this mountain — too dangerous, rarely visited. What draws so many here at once, and at this particular time? I ask out of ignorance."
Dongfang Xiao admitted he was wondering the same thing. Why now — neither summer nor autumn — did the mountain suddenly have so many visitors?
Mu Qingyan let his gaze drift, deliberately, toward the lone thief and the master-and-servant pair at their separate table.
Zhou Zhiqin read the look. "I don't know their origins either. But the thin man — Lan Tianyu — is a known thief in the martial world. The only reason Beichen's six sects haven't moved against him is that his crimes aren't quite obvious enough. But he's still a thief. You two should keep your distance."
As if he'd felt eyes on his back, Lan Tianyu turned around and grinned.
The last arrival this morning descended the stairs without hurry.
Yawning. Boneless. Moving like a man whose skeleton had staged a slow exit.
Qian Xueshen shuffled over to Mu and Cai's table and said, without shame: "If my stomach hadn't started clawing, I'd still be up there."
He spotted Zhou Zhiqin and Dongfang Xiao's bearing and recovered enough to bow.
After names were exchanged, Dongfang Xiao blinked. "Mr. Wan — you are the young lady's... fiancé?"
He'd already decided in private that Cai Zhao and Mu Qingyan were a runaway couple. This little white-faced, ribbon-wearing creature was supposed to be her actual betrothed?
Cai Zhao watched the two seniors fail to hide their confusion and nearly laughed her food out.
Mu Qingyan, smooth as still water: "Please forgive us, seniors. My sister has had an ailment since childhood. She hasn't fully recovered."
You're the ailment. Your whole family is the ailment. Cai Zhao seethed quietly.
The three of them relocated to the furthest, most private table.
Qian Xueshen efficiently called for steamed buns, stewed cake, roast chicken, roast duck. He wiped his chopsticks, leaned in, and said in a low voice: "I've heard Peiqiong Villa raises only the graceful and elegant. But Senior Zhou looks like he's been dragged behind a cart. Is he even real?"
"An only child died." Cai Zhao's eyes went sharp. "Your only son dies, then let's see how serene you look."
Qian Xueshen felt Mu Qingyan's displeasure and shifted course. "Fine, fine. Many children at Peiqiong Villa, quality varies naturally—"
"Shut your mouth." Cai Zhao held her chopsticks like a weapon. "Uncle Zhou grew up alongside my aunt. She knows his character better than any rumor. When he fought Nie Hengcheng's followers, Uncle Zhou fought beside him. Life and death. His wife has been ill for years and he has never left her side, never looked elsewhere. He's a hundred times better than the serpents crawling through your family tree, Qian."
"Fine, fine, the Zhou name is pure gold." Qian Xueshen leaned back from the incoming spray. "Prince Mu — restrain her. We're the ones who'll be climbing that mountain with her later and she's defending a man named Zhou."
Mu Qingyan let the bickering run a moment, then spoke. "I have nothing to dispute about Zhou Zhiqin's reputation. His son died at the turn of summer and autumn. Heavy snow sealed the mountain not long after. Peiqiong Villa is two months' travel south. He waited here for the snow to lift — that part makes sense." He paused. "What doesn't make sense is whatever is between him and Jin Baohui of Siqi Sect. What's the story?"
Cai Zhao thought. "My mother mentioned it. Jin Baohui liked to throw his weight around — playing the elder in front of my aunt and her circle because he was the Yang Sect leader's uncle. He kept vicious things. Trained dogs, vultures, poisonous pythons. Managed them badly and let them hurt people."
"One day, his dogs mauled several young children to death." Her voice went flat. "My aunt rode to Siqi, killed every one of his pets, and broke his arm and his leg."
Mu Qingyan: "Children died. An arm and a leg?"
"She wanted his life." Cai Zhao sighed. "The Yang Sect leader begged and threatened until my aunt's master dragged her away. Elder Yin told her that the six northern sects needed to stand together against Nie Hengcheng — that she had to consider the bigger picture and not fracture the alliance."
Mu Qingyan made a sound of contempt.
Qian Xueshen gnawed on a drumstick and spoke through it: "And Senior Dongfang — is he strong?"
"Remarkably." Cai Zhao brightened. "There was a kill order issued once, targeting a Demon Sect elder — Dongfang Xiao ran down every stronghold, personally. Incredible work."
Mu Qingyan's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're welcome. That kill order was your aunt's."
Cai Zhao stared. "What? She never said—"
"She spoke of pursuing clues, dismantling strongholds—"
"She said it like a story! I didn't know she was the one who issued the order!"
Mu Qingyan was both irritated and quietly amused. "It was the order to hunt Elder Tianji — Duan Jiuxiu. And Dongfang Xiao gave everything he had, because it was Duan who crippled Taoist Yunzhuan and burned Qingfeng Temple to the ground."
Qian Xueshen tore off both duck legs without ceremony. "I've always heard the Demon Cult's people kill without hesitation. But a Seven Star Elder taken out by Lady Cai's kill order — and the cult just watched?"
"If it had been any other elder, they would have responded." Mu Qingyan set down his chopsticks. "But Nie Hengcheng would have stood aside and done nothing for Duan Jiuxiu specifically."
"Why?"
"Because Duan Jiuxiu was also my great-grandfather's adopted son."
Silence.
"Both Nie Hengcheng and Duan Jiuxiu were adopted. But great-grandfather ultimately chose Nie Hengcheng as Regent Dharma King. Duan could only rank as a Seven Star Elder. He never accepted it. For decades he worked against Nie Hengcheng, built his own faction, brought in disciples — all to restore the position he thought should have been his." Mu Qingyan's tone was almost academic. "When Nie Hengcheng learned of the kill order, he was probably pleased."
"As for Duan himself — he was vicious in small ways too. The master of Qingfeng Temple once laughed at him and called him 'second of ten thousand years.' He decided to destroy the entire sect over it." He paused. "And he didn't go in swinging. He waited until Qingfeng Temple had already exhausted itself fighting on Yin Dai's orders — their strength spent, their foundations cracked. Then he crept in at night, with poison, and began the slaughter."
No one spoke.
"He didn't just kill. Several Taoist nuns were tortured to death. Their bodies stripped and hung from trees outside the temple gates. Children under ten years old — Taoist disciples — were made into something worse." Mu Qingyan's expression was flat, but the flatness had an edge. "He did all of this and walked away feeling like a hero. A waste." He snorted. "He deserved exactly what he got."
Qian Xueshen ventured, very quietly: "I've always heard your followers have no limits when it comes to killing. But what Elder Duan did... surely even by Demon Cult standards..."
Mu Qingyan turned and looked at him. "What do you think you are — some third-rate street thief?"
Qian Xueshen did not venture again.
Cai Zhao sat back, thinking. "No wonder my aunt ordered the kill. She was furious." She shook her head slowly. "I'll say this — your great-grandfather had a gift. Among the entire world, he found the two most cruel, cunning, and untamable men alive and raised them both as sons."
Mu Qingyan shrugged. "It was remarkable. In a way — it's also a kind of light."
Qian Xueshen smiled around the duck neck in his mouth. "Mr. Mu — truly unbothered. Laughing at his own bloodline."
Cai Zhao: "Wait until he stops giving you the antidote. You'll be very unbothered."
Qian Xueshen's face fell.
They were not the only ones talking.
From Zhou Zhiqin and Dongfang Xiao's table to the others across the lobby — everyone was watching, speculating, guessing. But no one could identify the siblings or even estimate the depth of Mu Qingyan's martial arts. In nineteen years he'd never appeared in the martial world — not through the Demon Cult, not through Changbao or Qingque Sect, not at all. And Cai Zhao: she'd walked out of Yinggu and straight up Jiuli Mountain, and whatever power she'd unleashed on the night of her descent hadn't spread widely yet.
No one could place them. It was not surprising.
Qian Xueshen ate with great enthusiasm and yawned between bites, looking thoroughly disreputable.
"Can you please not yawn while chewing," Cai Zhao said. "You look like a dying man."
"I was up all night," he said with feeling. "I'd barely fall asleep — group of people arrives. Dozed off again — another group. Finally under — third group. I don't think I slept at all."
Cai Zhao, who had slept beautifully, softened a little. "You should have asked someone to bring you a midnight snack. Sleeping hungry through the night makes it worse."
"I did go look. Shopkeeper and staff were all busy with the new guests, completely ignored me. I had to go find the kitchen myself." He lowered his voice and his eyes lit up. "And that's when I saw it."
"Saw what?"
"You remember that thin yellow woman from yesterday? The shopkeeper's wife." He paused for effect. "I found her in the kitchen. Embracing the cook."
Cai Zhao's chopsticks stopped. "No."
"Clear as day. Seventeen, eighteen times woken up — I was very awake."
Cai Zhao started laughing and eating at the same time. "Old husband, young wife, and now a pair of green horns — I can only imagine—"
"Seventeen or eighteen arrivals." Mu Qingyan cut through them. "Five groups, by my count. Five stops at the inn door."
Cai Zhao and Qian Xueshen both looked at him. Ruined.
He tapped the table with his chopsticks. "Senior Zhou and Senior Dongfang — that's one. Jin Baohui of Siqi Sect — two. The lone thief Lan Tianyu — three. The master with his two servants — four. Four tables in this lobby besides ours. That accounts for four groups." He looked up. "Where is the fifth?"
And then — from the second floor — came a sound.
Heavy, deliberate steps. Feet that pressed into the boards with the specific weight of someone who had never once in his life been told to be quiet, and saw no reason to start now. They descended the wooden staircase slowly, each step landing like a declaration.
Mu Qingyan's eyes cooled. "That's him."
The fifth group. Three people.
The man in front was somewhere in his forties. Handsome. Dressed with precision. His bearing was commanding without effort, his eyes sharp and still as winter water. He moved without a sound of breath — the kind of cultivated restraint that marked a master who had stopped needing to prove anything.
Behind him walked an old servant, face unremarkable, currently wiping down a tabletop. And then the concubine — a natural beauty, lush and bright-eyed, with a smile that sent small invisible hooks through the room. She settled beside the man with practiced grace, pouring his water, wiping his hands, arranging herself into the scene.
Mu Qingyan watched. He was about to speak to Cai Zhao when he noticed Qian Xueshen had gone perfectly still, eyes locked on the concubine like he'd forgotten how to blink.
He looked at Cai Zhao.
Her eyes were even straighter.
He was caught between exasperation and laughter, about to reach over and pull her back to earth —
A scream split the air from the kitchen.
"Someone come! Help — the shopkeeper is dead!"