Chapter 23: The Case of the Su Family Village

She offered an awkward, apologetic smile and stepped aside to a quiet corner. Thinking of the mission issued by the system, she felt a pounding headache. Invite Su Qinghan to venture into the Abyss of Ten Thousand Demons together? Was that damned system trying to get her killed faster? As if that ice-cold man would ever agree. Still, Su Qinghan was the greatest sword genius the Myriad Sword Sect had seen in a hundred years, already at the late Golden Core stage. With him along, the dangers of the Pit of Ten Thousand Poisons would certainly plummet. The problem was… how to broach the subject? They were ex-husband and ex-wife now, and the last time they met, swords had nearly been drawn. Her divorce from him in the Heavenly Dao Sect had publicly trampled his dignity—there was no relationship worse than theirs. If she went to beg him directly, she’d surely be ignored or sent flying with a single sword stroke. Yet the allure of a Heaven-grade movement technique was too great to ignore. She’d have to risk it.

Chu Yuyao gritted her teeth, steeling herself to approach him, when the system chimed in her mind: [Su Qinghan has been investigating the destruction of the Su Manor for years. Perhaps the host can use this angle.] She froze. She knew about the Su Manor massacre—the original host had heard rumors too. Su Qinghan came from Su Manor; it was said that when he was three, he’d encountered Ling Cang, the sect leader of Myriad Sword Sect, while Ling Cang was traveling. Seeing Su’s innate sword bones and unrivaled talent, Ling Cang had taken him back as his final disciple and taught him with great care. But later, for unknown reasons, Su Manor was wiped out overnight, supposedly by demonic cultivators. Who exactly, or which faction, no one knew. As an adult, Su Qinghan had spent the past twenty years seeking the truth, but all in vain. This, perhaps, was the only thing that could truly move him—a chance to avenge his kin. But how would she know who his real enemy was?

[Host, the one who destroyed Su Manor wasn’t a demonic cultivator at all. It was Su Qinghan’s own master, Ling Cang. His motive was to sever Su’s mortal attachments, to forge him into the purest sword. The story about a demonic faction destroying Su Manor was all Ling Cang’s deception. Su Qinghan has been pursuing this angle for twenty years, but he’ll never find the truth.] The system seemed to sense her thoughts and offered another reminder. Chu Yuyao was so shocked that she almost thought she’d misheard. Ling Cang?

That revered master, whom Su Qinghan regarded as a father and worshipped as a god, was actually the murderer of his entire clan? She instinctively glanced over at Su Qinghan. He still stood by that stall, flipping through ancient texts, moving from one tome to the next, searching for something, his expression detached. The thought that he knew nothing of the truth, still regarding his enemy as a father—if he ever learned the reality, what kind of devastation would that be? Her feelings grew complicated. She took the initiative to walk over, stopping at the far side of the stall, picking up a book on the customs of the Western Regions and flipping through it absentmindedly.

Her voice was neither loud nor soft, just enough for Su Qinghan to hear: “Come to think of it, the demonic factions in the Western Regions are deeply entrenched and act in secret. If the old case from twenty years ago was truly their doing, it must be hard to uncover now...” She wasn’t sure if Su Qinghan recognized her. Su Qinghan’s hand froze on the page. Slowly, he raised his eyes, and for the first time, his cold, emotionless gaze landed fully upon her. Even through the veil of her hat, that look was sharp enough to pierce any disguise.

“What do you know?” he asked, his voice as icy and detached as he was—utterly emotionless, yet exerting an invisible pressure.

Chu Yuyao’s heart jumped, but her face remained nonchalant. She tapped the page where some vague mention of the Western demonic sects was printed. “Just came across some idle gossip—twenty years ago, several demonic sects in the West seemed to be up to something. The timing coincides with a few unsolved cases.” She paused, as if recalling something. “Oh, and I think it involved a place called… Su Manor?”

A chilling sword aura locked onto her instantly. Though Su Qinghan’s sword remained sheathed, it was as if its blade was already at her throat. She tensed, feeling a cold touch at her neck, as though her head might roll at any moment. The air around them seemed to freeze, the temperature dropping alarmingly. The stallkeeper turned pale and shrank away, terrified of getting caught in the crossfire.

Su Qinghan stared at her, his words colder still: “Explain yourself.”

Chu Yuyao fought the urge to flee, steadying her voice. “Too many eyes and ears here—this isn’t a place for such talk. I don’t know much, just scattered clues. If you’re interested, perhaps we could find somewhere quieter to discuss it?” Her heart pounded in her throat, terrified that this iceberg would strike her down on the spot.

But Su Qinghan didn’t draw his sword. He merely looked at her in silence, as if weighing her words for truth or falsehood. “Lead the way.” He sheathed his sword and didn’t glance at her again, spitting out the words coldly.

She let out a silent sigh of relief, surreptitiously touching her neck—it had nearly been parted from her shoulders. Damned man, she cursed inwardly, then turned to lead the way.

They made their way to a famous teahouse near the market—Fragrant Tea Pavilion. She requested a quiet, private room on the second floor, and they entered. The formation activated, sealing off all sound from within and without. The two sat across from each other, tea fragrance curling in the air. Aside from his initial scrutiny, Su Qinghan spared her no further glance, staring at his cup of tea as though he might conjure a blossom from it—or as though it was far more interesting than her.

He had recognized her, of course. No matter how well she concealed herself, her voice and subtle mannerisms could not escape his notice. But he couldn’t be bothered to call her out. He cared more about her words, and whether she truly held clues about the truth from twenty years ago.

Chu Yuyao found his silence unnerving but forced herself to speak, lowering her voice. “Fellow cultivator, you seem quite interested in those demonic sects I mentioned. Regarding Su Manor…”

“What exactly do you know? Speak plainly.” He finally broke his silence, his voice flat and unreadable.

She looked embarrassed but pressed on, continuing her fabrication. “I only saw some random notes in a book, saying that twenty years ago, there was a civil strife within the Blood Fiend Sect in the Western Regions. The timing matches the incident at Su Manor. Supposedly, they were fighting over some treasure, and a few disciples fled into the mortal world, leaving a trail of carnage—many mortals died.” As she spoke, she watched Su Qinghan’s reaction closely.

It wasn’t a total fabrication; the Blood Fiend Sect had indeed suffered internal strife twenty years prior, and some disciples had fled to the mortal realm, destroying villages and towns along the way. Otherwise, Ling Cang wouldn’t have pinned the blame on the demonic cultivators. Those demonic cultivators, however, had never gone near Su Manor—but that didn’t stop her from making use of the story. The important thing was to lure him to the Western Regions, so she could get him to join her in the Abyss of Ten Thousand Demons.

“I’ve been to the Blood Fiend Sect. I’ve investigated them. They had nothing to do with Su Manor’s destruction.” Su Qinghan’s words were cold and indifferent. He had looked into the matter years ago and was certain the Blood Fiend Sect was not responsible.