Mu Bai picked up the Qinglian Sword and stepped out of the treehouse with Qin Jiuge.

Dozens of black-clad assassins wearing silver masks were engaged in fierce combat with the Qinglian Valley disciples amidst the forest, blades flashing and swords clashing.

The leader was likely the one with the golden mask. Wielding a double-edged sword, he deflected a strike from Jin Yi before leaping onto the rope ladder. Pushing off with his foot, he lunged straight for the treehouse—

Only to be flung back by the firmly locked door. He barely managed to steady himself midair and landed awkwardly on the ground.

Mu Bai glanced around and noticed dozens of masked figures within sight, with over a dozen gathered around Su Mo’s treehouse.

Qin Jiuge leaped forward, thrusting his sword toward the masked leader.

The opponent swiftly dodged backward, raising his blade to block.

Mu Bai had found it strange earlier—these masked assailants arrived with fierce momentum, yet their attacks lacked lethal intent. Facing the valley disciples’ assaults, they only defended without counterattacking.

They harbor some apprehension toward Qinglian Valley.

Rushing into the valley recklessly, they are likely targeting Su Mo.

The disciples of Qinglian Valley are not skilled in swordsmanship, while these well-trained assassins can each take on multiple opponents. Su Mo’s two attendants, Yexing and Jinyi, stand guard firmly in front of the treehouse, not allowing them to advance a single step.

With the battle deadlocked, the masked leader seems to be growing impatient.

Forced back several meters by Qin Jiuge’s relentless sword strikes, he twisted his dual blades in a reverse grip, leaving a near bone-deep gash on her right arm with the razor-sharp edge.

The cyan robe tore open, its rolled-up edges soaked crimson with blood.

“Senior Sister!” Hua Mei cried out from nearby, attempting to rush to her aid but was intercepted by other masked assailants, unable to reach her.

Qin Jiuge clenched her teeth, enduring the searing pain of torn flesh as she swung her sword, only to have it effortlessly deflected by the masked man’s skillful parry.

He raised a hand and slapped it on Qin Jiuge’s shoulder, pushing her out, then spun around, stepped onto the tree trunk with a few strides, and vaulted toward the window hole on the treehouse roof.

A masked figure landed on the eaves of a tree-roofed pavilion when suddenly they heard someone approaching swiftly on the wind behind them.

He instinctively turned around and raised his sword to block, intercepting a bronze dagger.

The masked man wielded dual blades, intending to repeat his previous trick, but suddenly saw the white-clad “maiden” opposite him flash a sly smile. With a twist of her wrist on the hilt, she smoothly withdrew the bronze sword and sheathed it behind her back.

At the same time, she lifted a foot and kicked, knocking his twin blades askew.

Anyone daring to infiltrate Green Lotus Valley would naturally have done their reconnaissance beforehand. The masked assailant hadn’t anticipated encountering someone like this in the valley besides the eldest senior sister.

Clad in snow-white robes, the other party smiled radiantly, appearing no more than sixteen or seventeen years old.

He was momentarily stunned when Mu Bai raised his hand and struck him off the roof, sending him tumbling onto a thick layer of fallen leaves.

“Thud.”

Mu Bai landed lightly, still holding the Qinglian Sword vertically behind his back with his hands clasped, as he walked toward the man.

The other masked men, seeing this, quickly forced back the surrounding Qinglian Valley disciples and leaped forward with their swords, encircling him.

Mei Hua, Xi Zhao, and the others chased in the direction they had left, only to see Mu Bai standing amidst swords thrust at him from all sides, with no way to dodge.

The sword blades gleamed like snow, merging with the sunlight into a single line. Dozens of swords converged like petals, as if intent on grinding the figure at their center to dust.

“Little Bai Shimei—”

Mu Bai’s eyebrows twitched slightly as he suddenly raised his sword to block one of the blade tips, using the momentum to flip backward while his entire body leaned away.

The blade swept past just above his nose. With a single palm strike, he somehow forced an opening through the sword formation and slipped out.

The figure in white spun around and struck with lightning speed, the sword’s wind whirling up the yellowed fallen leaves from the ground, scattering them amidst dozens of uniformly forged iron swords.

Mu Bai’s toes touched the blade, one sword linking to another, his moves unfolding like a blooming lotus. As the final stance completed, the entire sword formation exploded outward with a resounding “boom.”

The masked man staggered, his black clothes torn with countless gaps, the bloodstains vivid and striking.

He stepped over the blood-stained leaves to the leader’s front, swung his blade, pointing it directly at the throat, and asked from a commanding position, “Who are you?”

Unexpectedly, the other suddenly convulsed all over, clutching his neck in extreme agony.

Mu Bai sensed something amiss and used his sword to lift the metal mask covering the man’s face.

His lips were black and purple, with blood and foam spilling from the corners—clearly, he had taken a deadly poison.

“……”

Disciples of Qinglian Valley do not kill. The masked assailants hadn’t gone for fatal blows earlier, so Mu Bai had intended to spare this one’s life.

He turned back and saw Qin Jiuge, Huamei, Xizhao, and the other senior sisters staring at him with peculiar expressions.

“What’s wrong?”

Huamei hesitated before speaking: “Junior Sister Xiaobai, you… you’re just too handsome?”

The sunset glow: “Xiao Bai is actually this strong?”

Mu Bai felt somewhat embarrassed, coughing twice: “Naturally gifted, I’m ashamed to say.”

–

The remaining masked men were all hired by their leader and merely following orders. When questioned, they knew nothing.

They only found out that they were indeed targeting Su Mo—someone had paid a hefty price to take his life. As for who it was, that was hard to say.

After all, Su Mo was from the royal family with numerous enemies and a complicated background. There were more than enough forces seeking his life to count on both hands.

He felt rather guilty for disturbing the tranquility of Qinglian Valley, so Su Mo packed his belongings that very night and prepared to take his leave.

Seeing him confined to a wheelchair, pale-faced and coughing incessantly, Qin Jiuge expressed concern, “Your Highness is in such a state—traveling alone would surely be perilous.”

Su Mo replied gently, “I’ve already sent word to Lingyun Palace. Someone will come to meet me at the Resting Cloud Posthouse.”

Lingyun Palace held an eminent position in the martial world. Its master, Luo Wangchuan, was renowned throughout the land for his Flowing Wind and Returning Snow swordsmanship, and every disciple under his tutelage was a formidable martial artist with exceptional sword skills.

If it really comes to that, only assassins with some real skill would dare show up—definitely a good place to be.

“But the medical skills of the physicians at Lingyun Palace are quite average, so I’d like to borrow someone from your valley. Is Miss Bai free to leave the valley?”

Qin Jiu Ge asked Mu Bai in the afternoon where he learned his sword techniques and was surprised to find out he had a copy of the “Qinglian Sword Manual,” which he claimed to have found at the bottom of a cliff.

The recovery of the long-lost sword manual was already an unexpected delight. Moreover, Mu Bai had mastered it to the point of being able to hold his own, so she didn’t press further.

As the young master, Mu Bai would eventually need to venture into the martial world to witness its treachery. Since he already had the ability to protect himself, letting him explore the outside world wouldn’t be an issue.

When Qin Jiuge found Mu Bai, he was copying the moves from the Qinglian Sword Manual onto a piece of paper. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and called, “Senior Sister.”

She stated her purpose, took out a map scroll and a letter.

The map was spread out on the table. Following his senior sister’s fingertip, Mu Bai traced the route from Green Lotus Valley to Resting Cloud Post, then located the two red-circled spots near the post.

One is Lingyun Ferry, the destination of his journey, and the other is Jade Tree Manor.

Jade Tree Manor is renowned as the largest arms forger in the martial world. They not only sell weapons but also trade in intelligence.

When Senior Sister Xizhao traveled down the mountain, she once brought back a copy of the Jianghu Courier, which published information from the Jade Tree Manor’s hero ranking list.

Whether it was the political situation of the court, the grudges and affections among the leaders of various sects, or trivial matters like Squire Liu losing a cat or Old Man Zhang marrying off his daughter—all kinds of news could be found at Jade Tree Manor.

Of course, it came at a corresponding cost.

Qin Jiuge handed the letter to Mu Bai: “I had some dealings with Jade Tree Manor in my early years. When you get there, give this letter to the manor lord. He will help you settle in.”

Although she agreed to let Mu Bai accompany Su Mo and his party on the journey, the senior sister still felt somewhat uneasy and asked Hua Mei to go along as well.

Thus, Mu Bai packed his belongings, slung the Qinglian Sword over his back, pushed Su Mo’s wheelchair to the foot of the mountain, and boarded the same carriage with him.

Su Mo reclined in the back of the carriage reading a book, while Mu Bai occasionally chatted idly with Hua Mei, making the journey far from dull.

By the latter half of the night, Jin Yi and Ye Xing took turns driving the carriage, while the three of them dozed inside. When they awoke and lifted the curtain, daylight had already broken.

The carriage stopped outside an inn, above its door hung a plaque inscribed with four large characters: “Resting Cloud Inn.”

“We’re here already?”

Mu Bai hopped off the carriage. Huamei tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “I’ve long heard the Blackmane Crows can travel a thousand miles in a day—truly worthy of their reputation.” %%

Mu Bai turned his head to look at the two majestic horses with jet-black manes in front of the carriage and casually echoed, “Impressive, impressive.”

Just then, a person galloped wildly down the official road, charging straight to the entrance of the post station before finally pulling on the reins with a loud “Whoa—.”

Hua Mei let out a low gasp, and Mu Bai also followed her gaze.

The man sat atop a tall horse, dressed in crisp black attire, with a token hanging from his waist.

He unscrewed the water bottle, took a swig, then dismounted and walked straight toward the post station.

Mu Bai noticed his chiseled features—sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, strikingly handsome. A glance downward revealed the wind flipping the token over, reflecting the surrounding scenery.

It was mirrored.

Those who wore such tokens all hailed from the Department of Ten Thousand Mirrors.

Among the strikingly handsome men in the Mirror Division, at least according to the original text, there was only one—the male protagonist, Jiang Cijing.

Mu Bai quickly hunched over and hid behind Huamei.

Jiang Cijing remained oblivious, striding directly toward them.

Just as he was about to pass by, Mu Bai let out a slight sigh of relief, only to hear Huamei suddenly speak up: “Isn’t this Jiang, the Divine Constable of the Mirror Division?”

She pulled out a sheet of white paper and an ink brush from nowhere, stepped forward to grab the other person, and said, “Detective Jiang, I’ve admired you for so long. Would you mind giving me an autograph?”

Jiang Cijing turned his head at the sound and caught sight of Mu Bai crouching behind, attempting to sneak onto the carriage.

As a detective, seeing such sneaky behavior, he didn’t hesitate to stride forward, seize Mu Bai’s wrist, and pull him back.

Jiang Cijing lowered his head and met a pair of startled eyes.

Those eyes were strikingly handsome. He froze for a moment, then realized the young lady before him—from head to toe, down to every strand of hair—was the very image of his dream lover.

Jiang Cijing: “…”

Mu Bai sensed a hint of trouble: “Wait, big bro…”

What the heck are you blushing for?