Chapter Seventy-Nine: O Young Swordsman

After reading this letter, eliminate everyone in the Sun household who knows of it. Do not let them speak of the hidden treasure.

The coroner from Well Dragon County, Fang Mu, is an adept. Stay at the Duan residence, kill Sun Wei, erase all traces, and lure Fang Mu toward Sun Wei’s direction.

Remember, do not expose us. For the sake of the Five Deities Cult, the hidden treasure must surely become ours!

The letter ended there. It was a very brief message, yet its contents revealed something deeply unusual.

The hidden treasure was the letter’s central concern.

Fang Mu put the letter away and tapped lightly on the handle of the pig-killing knife, producing a soft clacking sound.

From the letter’s tone, this hidden treasure seemed extremely important to the Five Deities Cult, and the letter’s owner clearly did not want Fang Mu involved in it at all, going to great lengths to steer him elsewhere.

Fang Mu stroked his chin and fixed his suspicion on another person: Duan Lin.

From beginning to end, there had been only one person who never appeared, and that was Duan Lin of the Duan family.

There were only two guesses regarding Duan Lin’s identity: one, Zhao’s lover; the other, a member of the Duan family. Judging by their generational ranking, Duan Lin should be Duan Wei’s brother.

Beyond that, the trail seemed to end here.

Fang Mu rose to his feet. Next, he intended to go somewhere.

According to the letter, Sun Wei was already dead.

If the letter was true, then almost everyone connected to the whole affair was dead already.

Sun Chang, Sun Wei, Duan Gen, Madam Zhao, Duan Lin—only Duan Lin remained missing, and even the trace leading to him had vanished. Fang Mu decided to visit the dispatch office.

Before leaving, Li Gun had told Fang Mu that if anything came up, he could go to the dispatch office. Its main duty was to relay information to the Sky-Observing Bureau, and East Frost County happened to have one.

Just as Fang Mu made up his mind and had only just stood up, he suddenly felt his shoulder grow light.

Whitey had been perched on that shoulder all along, and he had long since grown used to it.

When the weight disappeared, Fang Mu turned around and saw Whitey close its eyes and topple over.

Fang Mu reacted with lightning speed, catching Whitey in his arms, and only then did he realize something was wrong.

Whitey’s eyes were shut tight, and a faint black aura seeped from its entire body.

The black aura coiled around Whitey, but even as Fang Mu held it, it did him no harm.

At that moment, Whitey seemed to have lost consciousness and fallen into a stupor.

“What’s wrong?” Fang Mu shook Whitey, but got no response.

Whitey seemed unable to hear the outside world; apart from the rise and fall of its belly from breathing, there were no other signs at all.

Fang Mu’s expression darkened. Whitey’s sudden condition made anxiety stir in his chest.

“Could it be because it ate that strange thing just now?”

If anything had happened before this, it could only have been the matter of devouring that aberration.

Holding Whitey tightly against his chest, Fang Mu gripped the pig-killing knife with his other hand and hurried toward the East Frost County dispatch office.

This was the first time he had encountered such a situation. Worrying alone would not help; there were people from the Sky-Observing Bureau there, and perhaps they could explain the cause.

...

Inside a不起眼杂货铺 in East Frost County, the place was as run-down as could be.

“Ah, to say we kept you here would be unfair,” the shopkeeper in coarse cloth said helplessly to the black-clad young man before him. “It was the patrol chief who asked you to stay and assist whoever might come.”

The black-clad youth wore a long-handled mo knife at his waist. Two tiny scars marked his face, perfectly symmetrical.

At the shopkeeper’s words, the young man fell silent.

“I’m also a case officer for the Sky-Observing Bureau, and I have plenty to do,” the black-clad youth said with some resignation. “As a saberman, I, Yan Xian, only want to sever aberrations with my blade. Even if it was the patrol chief’s arrangement, I’ve already waited all these days... At the very least, you should tell me who it is, shouldn’t you?”

The shopkeeper spread his hands. “The patrol chief said that if the person needs it, he’ll come naturally. I don’t know exactly who it is. He only mentioned a few things: among the present generation of talents, few can compare to this person; in the Dragon Gate realm, he once used a blade to kill a Fish-Leaping aberrant.”

“Dragon Gate, slaying Fish-Leaping... with a blade?” Yan Xian froze, a fervent light flashing in his eyes.

The shopkeeper quickly waved his hands. “Do not act rashly. The patrol chief said you must cooperate with him, and that man’s temper is very strange, much like what the bureau chief once called the wild faction...”

As for Yan Xian’s temperament, many in the Sky-Observing Bureau knew it well.

A saberman—one who loved his blade as if it were his life—he liked nothing more than challenging others in blade arts.

More importantly, Yan Xian was an adept with dual divine gifts.

To obtain even one divine gift was already heaven’s favor; dual gifts were exceedingly rare.

“No, you don’t understand!” Yan Xian gripped the handle of the mo knife, his excitement rising. “He uses a blade too, so of course he understands a saberman’s creed. A blade is the weapon of dominion; only through endless challenge can one grow stronger!”

The shopkeeper covered his forehead and said helplessly, “I need to remind you of one thing. Though you are a genius with dual divine gifts, your primary gift is blood qi, and your secondary gift is only the blade. You are not exactly a pure saberman.”

“No!” Yan Xian declared solemnly. “I am a saberman. Blood qi is the secondary one.”

The shopkeeper: “...”

Why do I have a bad feeling about this? Why did I have to be so talkative and mention the word blade?

Yan Xian could no longer restrain himself, and said with blazing excitement, “Do you know where he is? I can hardly wait!”

Just as the shopkeeper was about to answer, his gaze suddenly sharpened.

Yan Xian frowned slightly and looked behind him.

Not far from the decrepit little shop, a young man was approaching at a measured pace.

He walked steadily, cradling a white cat in his arms. The cat had its eyes closed, and black mist swirled all around its body.

At the young man’s waist hung a pig-killing knife in an exquisite scabbard, while on the other side hung an utterly ordinary stiletto.

From the look on the young man’s face, however, his mood did not seem good at all.

As he drew near, his expression was grim, and from time to time he cast anxious glances down at the white cat in his arms.

“A beast that devours aberrations—it’s him.” The shopkeeper was startled, then suddenly understood and shut his mouth.

But it was already too late. Yan Xian, brimming with excitement, had already lifted a foot and was about to rush out.

“Don’t be impulsive,” the shopkeeper said, grabbing Yan Xian at once and soothing him. “Put that strange idea of yours away!”

“It's only a blade contest!” Yan Xian exclaimed fervently. “He’s a saberman too, so he must want a contest of blades as well!”

The shopkeeper clutched Yan Xian’s hand with all his strength and refused to let go.

While the two were at an impasse, Fang Mu walked in with a dark expression.

“Is this the dispatch office Li Gun mentioned?” Fang Mu asked, looking at the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper forced out a strained smile. “Yes. Are you Fang Mu?”

Fang Mu nodded, and was just about to ask about the cat in his arms when a voice suddenly rang out from the side.

“Young saberman!” Yan Xian said solemnly. “Come, let us have a duel between sabermen!”