Chapter 148: The Dagger is Revealed

At midnight, near the small courtyard by the edge of the woods, figures flickered, and in the dim light, blood sprayed into the air. A chaotic mix of shouts and screams erupted. From the very beginning, three men dressed as martial artists had attempted to infiltrate the brightly lit small courtyard from different directions. Immediately discovered by those lying in wait all around, a fierce battle broke out. One of them was heavily wounded on the spot, while the other two were chased straight into the woods.

Shortly after, someone else tried to scale the wall from the darkness. That figure merely paused for a second on top of the wall before being snared by several flying lassos and hauled inside. A scream rang out for a moment and then abruptly ceased. This was likely just a probe and a beginning; it was impossible to tell how many people from both sides were lying in ambush in the dark.

Clearly, none of them were benevolent figures. Near Ten-Pace Slope, the area was sparsely populated at night. Similar gang-related turf wars had occurred more than once before, and the aftermath was usually only discovered the following morning. Heard from afar, the sounds in the woods resembled the cries of night owls, while the small courtyard remained quietly nestled there, holding an unknown number of ambushes inside and around it, with lamplight filtering through the windows.

"This wasn't your doing... You haven't reached this level..."

Xi Junyu was trying to comprehend the contract on the table and everything unfolding before his eyes. Su Tan'er smiled slightly.

"Indeed, it wasn't me..." She paused slightly. "You finally admitted it."

"...Then was it old man Jing? Your father?"

Jing Wan'er frowned as she looked at him.

"It couldn't possibly be Liao Kaitai, and Su Yunsong is not around here either..."

"You wouldn't know."

The woman folded her hands on the table, her tone detached as she shook her head. Though dressed in men's attire, her appearance remained exquisite and refined. However, the presence she had accumulated over the years was now fully evident, combining with her usual air of a noble young lady to create a genuinely oppressive, chilling aura. As she spoke, another clear sound of fighting drifted from outside. Su Tan'er glanced in that direction; she was perhaps still somewhat unaccustomed to such matters, and thus she frowned.

"When Wu Qilong told me, I was somewhat skeptical. But for someone to launch such an assault, they shouldn't be people from the Wu family or the Xue family. To think you have such people backing you..."

"One always gets the chance to encounter such people eventually." After a long silence, Xi Junyu uttered these words, then glanced at Guard Geng behind him. "Earlier at the Su residence, when Elder Geng notified me and gave me time to prepare, was it for this?"

"You thought I was bound to lose, while Uncle Geng told you I had everything under control. Naturally, you were suspicious, believing the crux of tonight's events lay with you. To be safe, you would of course notify those you could truly rely on. That allowed us to follow the vine and unearth all of them, while conveniently settling the score for the assassination attempt on my father. I simply never imagined they would actually come here to rescue you."

"A brilliant scheme." Xi Junyu smiled bitterly. "And four months of patient plotting. Such a setup... just whose is it?"

Su Tan'er took a breath and did not answer him. "Ten-Pace Slope sees brawls every month, and the officials can't manage them. Tomorrow, when people are found dead here, it will simply be treated as another routine incident. Even if a passerby gets caught in the crossfire, people can only offer a sigh of pity. As you've often said before, we merchants fear nothing more than a complete falling out and the breaking of rules. Assassinations and hiring hitmen are things everyone dreads; once done, it's an endless cycle. Therefore, once such a thing happens, those who can settle the score must do so. I was originally afraid that when the truth finally came to light, if it had truly been the Xue or Wu families, I wouldn't have known what to do. But since it is you... this is for the best."

As she spoke, she pushed back her stool and stood up, appearing ready to leave. Xi Junyu frowned. "...Whose is it, really? Du Tingzhong?" He was, after all, one of the more reliable shopkeepers from the bazaar.

"I said you wouldn't know."

"Don't you want to know why I did all this?"

Su Tan'er stood there, pausing for a moment. "People are not made of wood and stone, Manager Xi. I once regarded you as a teacher and a friend. Regardless of the outcome today, Su Tan'er feels no joy in her heart, only sorrow. The more pleasant-sounding your reasons are, the more they merely add to this annoyance. As long as I know the Su family never treated you poorly, why should I bother listening to any of this?"

Xi Junyu froze, realizing for the first time that Su Tan'er had perhaps never considered him in terms of concepts like "man" and "woman." Up until this moment, everything she thought of was purely the relationship and friendship of a master and apprentice, a superior and subordinate in the realm of pure commerce.

"Ha," he let out a near-laugh, then his voice suddenly raised. "Then whose is it?"

As Su Tan'er walked toward the door, he sat there and threw out a few more possible names. "It couldn't possibly be something your three maids dreamed up!"

"Ning Lianheng?"

Reaching the doorway, Su Tan'er paused. Xi Junyu noticed her subtle expression and thought for a moment. "Are you joking..."

Su Tan'er pushed the door open. Outside, under the eaves of the courtyard, Su Boyong, seated in a wheelchair, was conversing with a tall, robust middle-aged man. From the room behind, an incredulous question uttered through clenched teeth suddenly rang out:

"It's... Ning Lianheng!?"

***

At the same moment, within the city.

The aftershocks of the clan meeting had not yet dissipated. Inside and outside the Su family estate, the atmosphere remained somewhat chaotic. The courtyard near the side door was dimly lit, and disjointed noises drifting from afar only made the surrounding air feel all the more deathly still. The scholar stared at the figures of the two servants entering from the rear, his posture suddenly relaxing. "Which area are you in charge of?!"

His voice carried a hint of anger, and the two servants froze slightly. The scholar pointed at the fallen body on the ground. "Do you know someone has slipped in?! Go get help immediately! You, keep an eye on him, I'll go find a rope!"

In the dim light, his words were grave and hurried. From the moment the two of them entered and saw their comrade lying on the ground, the scholar had spoken and turned to leave. Only a brief moment had passed, and the two men were still unsure whether he genuinely mistook them for estate servants or was just putting on an act. But regardless, if he really went and called for reinforcements, everything would likely go terribly wrong. "Understood," the two muttered, hurrying to follow while maintaining a posture of astonishment and wariness, hands gripping the hilts of their sabers, ready to draw them at any moment.

The distance closed rapidly, but the scholar had only taken two or three steps before turning his head back. "Go call for help already!"

The servant on the left, whom he was looking at, hesitated and glanced at his companion. In that brief moment, there was no time for deep thought, even though both sides suspected the other of play-acting. There were naturally two options at hand: either say "understood" and play along, or immediately draw their blades and turn hostile. While this choice lingered in their minds, the scholar waved the knife in his hand. "Right, take this."

Both men were actually guarding against the weapon in the scholar's hand, but his next action was truly unexpected—he tossed the knife directly toward the slightly faster man on the right. Both men felt a slight release of tension. The man on the right reached out to catch the blade, while the man on the left nodded slightly, the word "understood" just forming on his lips.

And at that exact fraction of a second, the string taut in the air, after a brief moment of relaxation, was suddenly stretched to its absolute limit. With a speed that made it nearly impossible to react, it snapped with a loud bang!

The relaxed feeling hit empty air, the whistling sound of an attack sliced through the air, and their figures violently collided. With a resounding crash, the man on the left let out a yelp and drew his saber, the blade's edge reflecting starlight like a sudden ripple of lake water sweeping through the air. A streak of sparks tore a long line across the dark. The force of the counter-shock hit him; having drawn his saber in haste, he couldn't help but stumble backward involuntarily. Meanwhile, his companion on the right was sent flying sideways, crashing heavily into a small stone table beside the courtyard.

What came into view was the scholar's figure, rapidly closing in and then pulling away. At that moment, there was not a shred of scholarly aura left about him. Gripping a blade, after clashing once with the other side, he pressed directly toward the wounded man who had collapsed among the stone table and stools. The servant on the left, having been forced back after drawing his saber, finally steadied himself, still barely able to process the entire situation.

Earlier, the scholar had put on an act of complete trust, which neither of them had believed—no one would fall for such a trick. Yet when the scholar wanted to leave, they were naturally quite happy to go along with it, maintaining utmost vigilance in their minds and guarding against the scholar suddenly shouting or throwing a tantrum. But because everything happened so fast, many actions were merely instinctive reactions. They had their guard up and thus paid extra attention to the scholar's movements. It was precisely in this atmosphere that when the scholar tossed over the very weapon they cared about most, that split second of bewilderment inevitably caused a momentary lapse in concentration.

In that brief hesitation, the man on the right instinctively reached out to catch the weapon, while the man on the left experienced a sudden, momentary relaxation of tension. While the blade was still mid-air, the man named Ning Yi launched his attack. He directly knocked the right-hand man flying, grabbed the blade out of the air, and clashed with the blade light coming from the other side. Then, using that momentum without pausing for a breath, he pressed relentlessly toward the man he had just knocked away.

The sparks from the clash of steel were still scattering in the air, while Ning Yi himself felt a faint ripple of astonishment. Lu Hongti had told him that the internal cultivation method she taught was a second-rate technique; it could boost explosive force during combat, but after all, it wasn't top-tier, and overuse could even harm the body. He hadn't been practicing it for very long. Today could be considered his first time unleashing it at full strength, and he hadn't expected a kick to someone's body to carry such immense power. It seemed the "second-rate" in the mouths of ordinary people was somewhat different from the "second-rate" concept held by martial arts masters? As this thought flashed through his mind, he seamlessly switched the sharp blade from his right hand to his left, bent down to grab a blue brick from the ground, and slammed it ruthlessly onto the back of the head of the man who had collapsed among the stone furniture and still seemed capable of moving.

Turning around, the servant who had just traded blows with him was rushing over, only to freeze mid-stride with his saber raised. Both of his companions were now sprawled on the ground. He looked ahead, then looked aside, his breathing rapid. "You, you..."

"Even this works, you guys are truly something. I am Ning Lianheng, known in the Jiangwu world by the moniker: Blood-Handed Butcher." In the dim light, the scholar cupped his fists and smiled, looking very much like a seasoned martial artist. "I have too many enemies to keep track of, so may I ask which of you sent you here?"

Regardless of anything else, shouting out the moniker "Blood-Handed Butcher" actually felt quite impressive!