Late at night, only a few lights remained in the capital of Jialan, while the surrounding mansions had all turned off their lamps, leaving silence and darkness.

Aside from the music and dance halls, the lanterns of the Prime Minister’s residence shone the brightest, as if they were lit with luminous pearls.

A few nights ago, an assassin sneaked outside the chancellor’s bedroom. The Yellow-Browed Monster rushed out but only caught a glimpse of a shadow and failed to catch anyone. Afraid of being scolded by Lord Wei, he claimed it was just a stray cat that had already run far away.

That night, the Prime Minister’s residence was in complete chaos, but in the end, nothing came of it.

The Yellow-Browed Demon secretly ordered the chief steward to heighten vigilance. He himself didn’t dare to sleep at night and lay in ambush in the main courtyard, waiting for the assassin to arrive.

After keeping their guard up for four or five days without even spotting a bird, the exhausted guards inside and outside the residence grew lax in their patrols, no longer as attentive.

The Yellow-Browed Demon, crouched in the bushes of the main courtyard, couldn’t hold out any longer. He narrowed his eyes and took a short nap.

In a light sleep, he heard the “creak” of the door opening.

Startled awake, he pushed through the bushes and leapt up: “Assassin! Protect Minister Wei!”

Guards from inside and outside rushed over, only to see Yellow-browed Monster and Chancellor Wei staring at each other.

“M-Minister Wei, why are you up? I heard the door open and thought it was an assassin.”

Wei Pengcheng raised his eyebrows: “I was about to ask what you’re doing here, making such a fuss. Go fetch me a chamber pot.”

He flicked his sleeve and went back inside.

The Yellow-Browed Monster went to find the chamber pot, while the guards outside gradually dispersed.

Wei Pengcheng lay down on the bed, one arm around his favorite concubine, the other massaging his waist.

The mansion recently took in a few concubines, who were quite inventive in their amusements, occasionally using drugs or incense to enhance the pleasure. He was getting on in years but refused to admit he couldn’t keep up, straining his aging back in indulgence for days until his health began to fail, suffering from frequent urination at night.

Tonight, the drug’s effects were especially potent; the chamber pot prepared under the bed wasn’t enough.

Wei Pengcheng tossed and turned, barely able to hold it in: “Why isn’t it here yet?”

At that moment, the door opened.

Footsteps were very light as he entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him.

Wei Pengcheng shouted, “You useless thing, what are you sneaking around for? Bring the chamber pot at once!”

He rolled out of bed, only to see a sharp glint of a sword piercing toward him from behind the curtain.

“You…!” Before he could finish speaking, the sword had already pierced clean through his heart.

The concubine on the bed sensed something amiss and turned around, only to meet the sight of vivid red blood splattered across the curtains and screens.

Her gaze trailed downward, and with just one glance, her eyelids fluttered shut as she fainted dead away.

Mu Bai packed up Wei Pengcheng’s head and was about to leave the house when he ran straight into the Yellow-Browed Monster.

The two, one carrying a wooden box holding a human head and the other holding a chamber pot, locked eyes for a moment before simultaneously drawing their weapons.

With a flick of his iron chain, the Yellow-Browed Demon sent its sharp hook flying toward Mu Bai.

Mu Bai blocked with his sword, only to feel his wrist go numb.

This yellow-browed demon’s internal energy is profound, even surpassing that of Elder Meng.

The sword trembled and buzzed from the impact of the hook.

When the next strike came, Mu Bai still hadn’t recovered, and his wrist momentarily lost strength, allowing the hook to catch his blade.

The Yellow-Browed Monster swung his hand in a few circles, then forcefully yanked back.

The iron chains coiled around the Qinglian Sword, dragging Mubai toward him.

If it were a two-hundred-pound burly man, the Yellow-Browed Demon wouldn’t have been able to pull him at all. But Mu Bai was light, and as he was flung into midair, swinging his Qinglian Sword a few times failed to sever the iron chains.

The yellow-browed demon grinned sinisterly as he dragged Mu Bai closer, raising his other hand to claw at his chest.

He enjoys ripping out the heart when killing.

Mu Bai struggled against the iron chains, simultaneously tapping his toes against the ground to halt his momentum, then struck the yellow-browed monster’s arm with a palm strike from his left hand.

That palm strike nearly snapped the Yellow-Browed Demon’s arm. Despite the excruciating pain of nearly having his limb torn off, he still managed to rip open Mu Bai’s chest garments and yank out something hidden within.

Looking down, it was a large bouquet of flowers.

Yellow-Browed Demon: “…”

Mu Bai channeled his inner energy into the Qinglian Sword, deflecting the iron chains, drawing the blade, and thrusting it into the Yellow-Browed Monster’s chest.

A single strike pierced the heart.

Blood gushed up the Yellow-Browed Monster’s throat as his eyes widened, and he collapsed backward.

The clenched fingers lost their strength, gradually loosening.

Flowers scattered amidst pools of blood, their petals dyed crimson, radiant and dripping with color.

Mubai suppressed the urge to vomit, not sparing another glance, as he swiftly leaped onto the rooftop to rendezvous with Sumo, who was waiting for him outside the wall, before departing the Chancellor’s estate.

By the moat, Mu Bai scooped up a handful of water to wash his face. Staring at his reflection in the pitch-black river, he suddenly felt a strange unfamiliarity.

He plopped down on the grass, his stomach churning violently.

Su Mo dipped a handkerchief in water and wiped the blood from his neck.

Mu Bai lowered his head, staring at his bloodstained hands. “I… killed someone.”

His throat was choked up, and he couldn’t utter a single word.

Before he came, he knew full well that once the Qinglian Sword was drawn, no one could be left alive. But truly seeing two living people die beneath his blade, even knowing they were utterly wicked individuals, Mubai couldn’t help but feel an icy chill throughout his body. The scent of blood surged into his breath, nauseating him to the point of vomiting.

Su Mo remained silent, flattening Mu Bai’s hand and wiping it clean.

She held the back of his head again, intending to press him into her embrace.

Mu Bai instinctively pushed him away, taking a slight step back: “I’m covered in blood, it’s dirty. It’ll stain your clothes if you’re not careful.”

Su Mo didn’t insist and gently patted his back instead.

After a long while, Mu Bai finally calmed down. He wanted to pull out the Qinglian Sword to wipe it clean but hesitated, remembering that Su Mo was still here. If Su Mo saw the blade, he might recognize it.

Mu Bai tightened the black cloth around the sword’s blade and asked as if nothing had happened, “Did I make a complete fool of myself just now?”

Su Mo whispered, “No, the first time I killed someone, I cried all night long.”

Mu Bai was stunned.

The original text rarely describes Su Mo personally killing anyone.

He thought for a moment and asked, “How did you do it? With a fan, or hidden weapons?”

Su Mo shook his head: “With poison.”

“When I was eight, I accidentally witnessed the imperial consort and the aunt who took care of me in the rear garden… That imperial consort’s son was about my age, but he was not favored by the emperor. She probably feared that I would one day compete for the throne with her son, so she bribed the aunt who raised me to put poison in my tea.”

“I gave that cup of tea to the concubine. She dared not disobey the order, drank it, and then collapsed right in front of me.”

Perhaps because of what he had just experienced, Mu Bai could actually empathize with how he must have felt at that time.

Su Mo lost his mother at a young age, so he must have trusted—even relied on—the aunt who took care of him. Watching her drink the poisoned wine meant for him and collapse before his eyes…

It was almost as if he could hear the sobs of that eight-year-old boy, hiding alone in the cold palace.

Mu Bai raised his hand, then lowered it.

His hands were still stained with blood, not suitable for a comforting embrace.

Su Mo could tell what he was about to do and smiled faintly, his eyes curving. “Cut me open, and you’ll find nothing but a belly full of dark schemes. My tears are crocodile tears—no need for comfort.”

Mu Bai: “…”

He truly didn’t know what he could do, so he picked up the wooden box and stood up, untying the horse tied to the tree by the river.

They took two horses out that night—Su Mo returning to Lingyun Palace, while Mu Bai went to Yushu Manor to deliver the head. The two went their separate ways.

By the time he arrived at Yushu Manor, dawn had yet to break.

A servant opened the door and, seeing him covered in blood, first led him to bathe and change into clean clothes.

At the break of dawn, after the rooster’s crow, Lin Baixiao rubbed his bleary eyes and rose from bed. As a servant brought in a bronze basin and he had just washed his face, he saw Mu Bai walking in carrying a wooden box.

The box was oozing with a deep crimson hue. As Mu Bai raised his hand to place it on the table, Lin Baixiao quickly stopped him: “Hey, no, no—don’t dirty my table.”

What was in that box, he had a guess in his heart, yet still couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

Holding a white towel for wiping his face, he scrutinized Mubai from head to toe before asking, “Did you really go to assassinate Chancellor Wei?”

“Yes, this is his head.”

“!” Lin Baixiao was horrified and quickly took several steps back.

As if that wooden box contained some kind of lethal poison.

“Don’t bring it over. Open it and let me take a look.”

“…It really is Wei Pengcheng.”

Lin Baixiao frowned and instructed the attendant to take the wooden box from Mu Bai’s hands and place it elsewhere.

He had Mu Bai sit in the room first, and after washing up, led him to the Sword Concealment Pool.

The Tianyu Liufang Sword had already been retrieved. A servant carried it over and respectfully handed it to Mu Bai.

“Truly, heroes emerge from the young—admirable, most admirable.” Lin Baixiao, now clear-headed, effortlessly showered him with flattery, praising him over a dozen times before adding, “Wei Pengcheng oppressed the people and tyrannized for over a decade. His death will surely cause a sensation throughout the entire Jialan region. I’ve already instructed my subordinates to draft this as tomorrow’s headline for the Jianghu Daily.”

“Might the young hero provide a detailed account of the events? It would help add some polish to our article.”

“For example, how did you break into the Prime Minister’s residence, how many people did you kill, what did they look like, how many moves were exchanged…”

Mu Bai: “…Do I need to be that detailed? I just barged into the old traitor’s room, killed him, then ran into the Yellow-Browed Monster on my way out and killed him too. Two in total, just a few moves exchanged. As for what they looked like…in one word: ugly.”

Lin Baixiao: “…”

Clearly unsatisfied with Mu Bai’s perfunctory answers, he grilled him relentlessly for more details before finally letting him go.

Lin Baixiao escorted Mu Bai to the door and tugged at his sleeve, saying earnestly: “Young Hero Treading Snow, once the courier report is published tomorrow, you will undoubtedly become a rising star in the martial world. If you have time in the future, remember to visit Yushu Manor often.”

“We have many more bounty notices here, only a skilled martial artist like you can complete them…” At this point, he smacked his head as if remembering something, “Young hero, wait a moment, I have something else to give you.”

Soon, a servant brought over a package.

Lin Baixiao handed the package to Mubai: “Someone had previously posted a bounty for the Yellow-Browed Monster here—this is the reward money. And also…”

He unrolled the scroll attached to the package: “This is a bounty notice we just received yesterday, but the task is too difficult. I doubt many in the martial world would dare take it. Would you like to give it a try, young hero?”

Mu Bai took the package and examined it closely.

The bounty mission’s objective was: Infiltrate the residence of Lingyun Palace’s leader, Luo Wangchuan, and gather evidence.

“…Who issued this mission?”

Lin Baixiao shook his head: “Heaven’s secrets cannot be revealed. But if you’re willing to take this job, I can arrange for you to meet the client.”

Mu Bai tentatively asked: “Could it be Chief Inspector Jiang of the Ten Thousand Mirrors Bureau?”

“How did you…” Lin Bai Xiao caught himself and closed his mouth.

Mu Bai had already guessed it **almost spot-on** and smiled: “I’ll take this job. I’ll take the bounty notice, and I’ll contact Jiang the Constable myself.”

Lin Baixiao breathed a sigh of relief: “That couldn’t be better.”

“Then I’ll be on my way?”

“Farewell, young hero. If you happen to see Miss Qin, please give her my regards.”

“Alright.” Mu Bai waved his hand, mounted the horse, and rode off into the distance.

Exhausted both mentally and physically, he returned to Lingyun Palace and collapsed into a deep sleep. He woke up a few times in a daze, ate a few bites of food, and then fell back asleep.

Huamei heard that Mubai was unwell and was sleeping heavily in his room, which made her very worried.

So the next morning, she went to find Mubai and asked him how he was feeling and if he wanted to go for a walk.

The two went to a teahouse at Lingyun Ferry, had breakfast, and listened to the storyteller inside.

Mu Bai picked up the teacup, blew on it, and took a sip. Just then, the storyteller slammed the wooden gavel and declared: “In the blink of an eye, Young Hero Treading Snow kicked open the door of the treacherous Wei with a flying leap and roared, ‘Scoundrel! Your life is mine!'”

He spat out his tea.

Mei Hua looked over curiously: “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, nothing.” Mu Bai wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled. “I genuinely admire this storyteller. Not only does he keep up with current events, but he’s also exceptionally skilled at embellishing. The way he tells stories is so vivid they almost don’t seem real.”

“You know about Little Bai too? Well, with all the coverage in Jianghu Express, who wouldn’t know by now?” Huamei opened a copy of the newspaper that every table had, reading aloud while scanning the page: “Licking blood from blades, moving through shadows, stepping on snow without leaving a trace, scattering petals with intent…”

Putting down the paper, Huamei rested her chin in both hands, eyes sparkling: “After taking lives, Young Master Ta Xue leaves flowers in his wake—what chivalrous tenderness, such romantic gallantry…”

Mu Bai: “…”

Senior sister, wake up, I’m just taking out the trash.