Chapter Seventy-Two: Whirling Winds Stir

Baili Liunian had just settled into his seat when his son darted in like a gust of wind. Unprepared for the intrusion, a droplet of ink fell from his brush. “Such a commotion—have you no sense of decorum?”

“Never mind decorum for now—something’s happened.” Baili Leren pressed his father’s hand down, glancing at the scripture his father was writing. Buddhist texts again. He’d always found these tedious; he could grasp the surface, but any deeper and the words buzzed like flies in his ears—irritating.

“Hmph. You spend all your days tangled up with that girl from the Gu family. What trouble could you possibly get into?” With his hand held, Baili Liunian set aside his brush.

The fallen droplet of ink landed squarely on the character for “life,” blotting it in a way that was jarring and glaringly out of place.

“It’s precisely because I was with her that something happened.”

Hearing this, Baili Liunian cast a curious glance at his son. “What is it, then? She’s finally lost interest in you?”

“No.”

“Get to the point.” What a terrible habit—taking forever to say anything, and never actually saying the important part.

Since it concerned the future of the family, Baili Leren let the rebuke slide. Bracing his hands on the desk, he lowered his voice. “Suhe has already joined forces with Fu Qingfeng. What comes next… well, you know.”

If Suhe succeeded, the future of their branch would become unpredictable—sunshine or storm, who could say?

Who knew if Baili Wushuang might have a sudden change of heart and turn on them?

In Leren’s opinion, the Baili family should never have involved themselves in this matter. If Baili Wushuang died, he died; with his seat vacant, perhaps others would have a chance. At the very least, Baili Wushuang was not to be trifled with. But as for eliminating Baili Suhe, there were plenty in Yuhaitian eager for that.

Why sharpen another’s blade only to have it turned on your own foot?

Without warning, Baili Liunian slapped his son on the head, eyes wide with anger. “Don’t play the fool with your father. Even without Baili Suhe, that position isn’t yours for the taking.”

How utterly naïve—if you’re so eager to die, go greet the King of Hell yourself.

“Are you really my father? I was just thinking aloud—what’s with the violence?” Rubbing his head, Baili Leren shot his father a glare, his thoughts having been laid bare.

“Out with it—where did you hear this?”

“Lele told me.”

“The girl from the Gu family? How did she know?”

“Her second sister went missing, so Gu Wanfeng sent people out to search, and that’s how the news came.”

“Gu Wanfeng’s second daughter?” Baili Liunian lowered his head, thoughtful, as if trying to recall something.

Seeing his father’s confusion, Baili Leren explained, “She’s the little girl Gu Wanfeng adopted years ago, picked up during a visit to a friend. She’s been raised in the garden ever since. She slipped out recently and hasn’t been found.”

“You seem to know quite a lot. What scheme are you up to now?” Reminded by his son, Baili Liunian recalled that Gu Wanfeng did have such a daughter—rescued as a baby during a journey, taken in out of pity for her tragic story.

It was so long ago that it was easy to forget.

Baili Leren grinned sheepishly, dodging the question and instead asking, “That’s not important. What matters is that Suhe and Fu Qingfeng have joined forces. What should we do now?”

“We wait for Lianhen’s news. The rest can wait until she’s back.” Seeing his son’s distracted air, he added, “If you’ve nothing else, go. Next time you go out with that girl, don’t come running back in such a fluster, making a spectacle of yourself.”

“Huh? Father, you’re not against me being with Lele?” Baili Leren’s eyes lit up at his father’s words. Had the old man finally come around?

“She is who she is; her father is her father. I’m not so muddle-headed.”

“Heh heh, you really are my father.”

“Get out—you’re hopeless.” Baili Liunian picked up a paperweight and stood to chase him off.

With his father’s tacit approval, Baili Leren’s annoyance vanished entirely. He scampered back to his own courtyard, intending to pen a passionate love letter to Gu Lele—one so sweet that she’d feel weak in the knees just reading it.

He began: “Dearest Lele, my heart and soul…”

Shortly after he left, Lianhen returned to Bai Ping’s Raging Waves. The information she’d brought matched Baili Leren’s.

Baili Liunian’s expression grew heavier, his sharp gaze unsettling to behold. Suddenly, he said in a low voice, “Continue rooting out spies in the estate. Remember, make a lot of noise, but do little.”

“Yes, Master. Do you have any leads?”

“I’m seventy percent sure. If he wants a fight, so be it. I’d like to see who wins in the end.”

“About the matter of the token—should we…”

“No need. If my guess is right, someone is just using Leren as bait. No need to dig deeper. Replace the estate guards with a loose formation on the outside and tight within. Leave an opening—let them take the bait themselves.”

“Understood. What if Ye Valley’s Qingfeng comes to demand an explanation?”

“Then give him one,” Baili Liunian replied with a cold smile. An explanation, after all, is just words—it doesn’t matter who speaks them.

Lianhen, understanding his intent, withdrew to make arrangements.

Baili Liunian flipped out the Eight Trigrams Jade Platform, set it on the desk, spread fresh paper, and wrote rapidly. Soon, he placed the letter on the jade platform.

Unexpectedly, this time the jade platform returned a reply. Its contents were simple: Surround Ye Valley with troops.

He put away the jade platform and burned the letter. Then, leaving Bai Ping’s Raging Waves, he ordered Lianhen to gather their forces and set out for Ye Valley at once.

Elsewhere, Ding Miao, under orders, entered the Twin Fiends’ Gate—also known as the Twin Fiends’ Palace—once again.

This time, he was received by Qin Mo.

The Twin Fiends’ Gate had a rule: they never accepted the same job twice. Any repeat client had to be reported up through the ranks, and only the Moon Envoy would handle negotiations. When the two met, each understood what was afoot.

“The deal continues, but with a few changes,” Ding Miao said.

“Oh? Though the Twin Fiends failed to succeed, we lost several men. What changes does your master propose?”

“The price is doubled—surround only, no killing.” With a wave, he presented chests filled with gold and jewels, piling the Hall of No Return high.

“Very well. The Twin Fiends don’t ask questions. Whatever your master says, we do.” A glance signaled his men to verify the goods and carry them away.

“Farewell, then.”

“I won’t see you out.”

After a few steps, Ding Miao paused and turned back. “They say the Twin Fiends’ master is a figure shrouded in mystery and that the Moon Envoy holds true authority. Meeting you today, the rumor seems well founded.”

“You flatter me. I simply follow orders—rumors are not to be believed,” Qin Mo replied with a faint smile, signaling his men to escort the guest out.

Ding Miao smiled and left with the Twin Fiends’ men.

“Keep watch at the gate. Don’t disturb me without cause,” Qin Mo instructed before leaving.

His subordinates nodded, dutifully standing guard.

Back at the Lesser Palace, Xuange Yue lay idly beneath the dripping eaves, drinking wine. His white night robe hung loosely, revealing well-toned muscles; in the sunlight, he looked the picture of lazy elegance.

He poured a cup and tossed it to Qin Mo as he hurried in.

Qin Mo stepped over the threshold, snatched the cup from the air with a deft movement, not a drop spilled, then drained it, removed his shoes, and knelt beside Xuange Yue. “The big fish changed the terms.”

“Oh?” Xuange Yue sat up, cup at his lips, but paused before drinking.

“Yes—they want only a siege, no killing. Double the price. I agreed.”

“A safe bet is better than a risky one, and easy money is not to be refused.” After a pause, he added, “Tell everyone to keep their wits about them. A good deal is only worth something if you’re alive to spend it.”

“Understood.”

“Did you look into that wretched woman, as I asked?” He was still sore from being played by Wangyou in secret. If not for Fu Qingfeng’s help, he’d have been finished before he even knew it. He’d thought he’d fooled her, but it turned out he was the one being fooled.

Qin Mo set down the cup. “Her background is extremely mysterious.”

“Oh?”

“All we can find traces back to her appearance at Jiuyao Pavilion. Before that, there’s nothing—no trace at all.”

“Nothing? A bird leaves a song, the wind leaves ripples—no one comes from nowhere.”

“Yes. All anyone knows is she fainted outside Jiuyao Pavilion, was found by Yizhichun, and entered the pavilion willingly, becoming one of their girls.”

“Any clues about her recent movements?”

Qin Mo refilled his cup. “She keeps a very low profile. Since joining the pavilion, she’s never had a quarrel with anyone. The other girls seem to care for her especially. She always goes out with company, either with colleagues or at patrons’ invitations—all of which can be verified.”

So clean? Xuange Yue felt a twinge of unease. “What about her patrons?”

Qin Mo hesitated, lowering his eyes. “They’re all… just fine.”

Alive and well; not one of them has missed a night of pleasure.

In fact, the only one who’s had trouble is you—everyone else is perfectly healthy.

The moment the words left his lips, Xuange Yue’s face darkened. So, she’d targeted him alone.

In truth, it was all a matter of coincidence. Wangyou had just entered the world and wanted to practice; he’d happened to cross her path. If, after the event, he’d seen through her and left, nothing much would have come of it. Trouble was, he’d been beaten by Fu Qingfeng, snubbed by Yizhichun, and then encountered Wangyou, who wanted to “talk.” He’d expected a conversation about vocal tricks, but it turned out to be a deadly skill. Off guard, he’d nearly fallen.

He was only saved because Fu Qingfeng found him in time; otherwise, he’d have been nothing but dust like the rest.

Qin Mo’s implication was clear. The more so, the more suspicious it seemed.

A living person doesn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Yet this woman had done exactly that—her past a blank, her present without a flaw.

She kept to herself, made no enemies, and easily won everyone’s favor. She seemed ordinary, devoid of cultivation. But who in Yuhaitian was truly ordinary?

The only explanation—she was hiding her skills.

“Oh, and tell them all to keep their pants on. If anyone ends up dead in bed one day, don’t blame me for not warning you.”

“Yes, sir. Should we keep investigating?”

“Keep at it. Focus on her closest patrons.”

Qin Mo hesitated. “Master…”

“Can’t manage it?” Xuange Yue’s voice turned cold.

“It’s… difficult.”

“Explain. Since when have my men become so useless?”

“She has too many patrons. We can’t possibly watch them all. If we try, we’ll all run ourselves ragged.”

“Idiot.”

Xuange Yue got up and kicked Qin Mo, sending him staggering. “Who told you to watch all of them? Pick the few she sees most often. Forget the rest…”

“Understood, right away!” Clutching his side, Qin Mo grinned and scurried away.

“Useless wretch—dare to joke with me, do you?”

“Never, never—ow!”

“I ought to smash you.” Xuange Yue picked up another wine cup to throw, but Qin Mo was already out of reach, so he begrudgingly set it down.

He bent to grab his flask when, suddenly, an arrow whistled through the air.

“Who’s there?”