Chapter Sixty-Four: Who Is the Culprit

Zhou Qian and Lou Yuxiao exchanged a glance. They had discussed the identity of the murderer several times before, but without exception, they had always ruled out Xiang Feihe as a suspect. To their minds, this was merely a ruse by the mastermind behind the scenes, and as for Xiang Feihe himself, he was likely already silenced because he had learned too much. After all, a person's nature is not easily changed by circumstance—especially not in one with a noble spirit.

And yet, the murderer was truly Xiang Feihe?

“Brother Feihe, we have had some acquaintance over the years. How is it I never knew you had become a lapdog of the Red Lotus Sect?” Lou Yuxiao’s expression was severe, his gaze cold as ice.

“People change. This is the way of the martial world. You walk with your head held high, and before you know it, your head is bowed,” Xiang Feihe replied bitterly.

“Brother Feihe, you have saved many lives, done much good. Now that you have come to this end, tell me—how should I deal with you?” Lou Yuxiao sighed.

“A debt must be repaid; a life for a life. When did you, old man, become so sentimental?” Xiang Feihe’s expression flickered with some unfathomable emotion.

“You are not the killer,” Zhou Qian said suddenly. “A man like you, neither acquainted with assassins nor capable of mixing with those women, could never have gained their trust to strike at them. Your swordplay, though deadly, is always direct—never underhanded. Could a man who refuses to use dirty tricks even in assassination be the one to murder Lady Hu so brutally, or ambush Mouse?”

Lou Yuxiao and Mo Shaoguan’s eyes lit up, both clever enough to grasp much at once. “Brother Feihe, what did the Red Lotus Sect use to threaten you?” Lou Yuxiao pressed urgently.

Xiang Feihe shivered, staring vacantly up at the crossbeam, his voice hoarse: “I have only one daughter—Xiaoyue…”

“Red Lotus Sect! Scoundrels, always using such despicable means!” Mo Shaoguan cursed, kicking the door with a loud bang that startled Xiang Feihe, whose expression turned cold and distant once more.

“Don’t look at me as if I’m noble. Thanks to my reputation, I’ve done many things for the sect—killed old men, children, women, even my own brothers. Mo Shaoguan, haven’t you always sought the truth behind the Wang family massacre? Well, it was me!” Xiang Feihe sneered, his voice venomous. “I’ve done many such things over the years.”

“Wang Yu was your sworn brother!” Mo Shaoguan roared, shaken to his core.

“That’s why I killed his wife, his concubine, his two daughters, his parents, his uncle, his cousin, his steward—sixty-three people in Wang Manor!”

Mo Shaoguan wanted to draw his blade. For the first time, his callused hands trembled. How could a man commit such monstrous deeds? And yet, this was a pitiful soul.

“Who is the real killer? How many spies has the Red Lotus Sect planted on this ship? Tell us, and we’ll save your daughter!” Lou Yuxiao demanded.

“How can I tell you that? The Master will know. He has supernatural powers—knows all things…” Xiang Feihe’s mind was failing, foam gathering at his lips.

“Damn! We’re about to lose the trail!” All three thought at once. Zhou Qian immediately placed the Hundred-Poison Pearl in Xiang Feihe’s mouth, while Lou Yuxiao mobilized his internal energy, his body swelling with power. His broad palms rubbed vigorously over Mo Shaoguan’s body, turning his skin red, dark blood seeping from his pores.

“So Master Lou has reached the level of training even his organs—otherwise, how could he revive flesh and renew the blood? Truly a master’s skill,” Zhou Qian thought, squinting.

After about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Xiang Feihe coughed dryly, spat out the Hundred-Poison Pearl. Zhou Qian’s eyes flashed with regret—the pearl had turned black, saturated with poison. This treasure, which had saved Zhou Qian countless times, was now useless.

“Speak. Not just for us, but for your daughter,” Zhou Qian said gently. “You don’t wish for her to live forever under the Red Lotus Sect’s control. I swear that when this is done, I will risk everything to rescue her—I will not rest until my blood runs dry!”

Xiang Feihe stared at Zhou Qian, clarity returning to his eyes. After a long pause, he said, “Remember your words.”

“The person wore a black veil, dressed all in dark clothing. I couldn’t tell if they were man or woman, but their build was slight,” Xiang Feihe recalled painfully. “They were my superior, always the one to contact me. After the sea battle, they told me to disappear—I hid on the ship…”

“Wait!” Lou Yuxiao interrupted. “I remember Wu Zhang searched every inch of the Sandbird Tower ship. How did you avoid detection?”

“Ah!” Xiang Feihe turned pale, clutching his head in agony. “The river pirates—in the hold, third level, fifth room on the right! That’s where they told me to hide!”

River pirates? All three exchanged looks. “No wonder—we always thought the traitor was among us, but couldn’t find them! If it was the White Dragon pirates, that explains it,” Mo Shaoguan frowned.

“Impossible!” Zhou Qian and Lou Yuxiao replied immediately.

“The White Dragon pirates are Wang Zhi’s most elite guards, recruited as children from the Ryukyus, the Peninsula, and other islands, raised as deathsworn loyal only to Wang Zhi. Most have never even set foot in China—they could not have colluded with the Red Lotus Sect,” Zhou Qian explained.

“If not them, then whom? Are we to believe the mastermind fell from the sky?” Mo Shaoguan grumbled.

“What matters now is how many spies the Red Lotus Sect actually placed on this ship. That is crucial.”

“Perhaps one, perhaps two—no more. That’s all I know,” Xiang Feihe sighed. “Now, you can kill me.”

“Why do you insist on dying?” Zhou Qian sighed. “Why not live, atone, and seek revenge?”

“They said, by dawn, either your corpse or mine must be found. There is no other way,” Xiang Feihe shook his head.

“But—”

“Say no more. My actions are shameful, but I have no regrets. I have only one daughter,” Xiang Feihe said calmly, without fear, anger, joy, or sorrow—resigned to death.

“An ancestor once said, ‘In all the world, nothing is greater than life and death.’ I don’t agree. In our world, what is life and death?” Zhou Qian chuckled softly.

“In truth, before coming, I wished to fight you. Rumor has it that Xiang Feihe’s swordsmanship is third-rate, but his uprightness and open style elevate it to the level of a master.”

“What kind of man can wield a third-rate sword with first-rate skill? What kind of unique swordplay is this? I’ve always wanted to try it!” Zhou Qian said, word by word.

Xiang Feihe was stunned, then laughed wildly, tears streaming down his face. “No wonder you are Zhou Xun’s disciple! That’s the spirit!”

“But what if I kill you?”

“Don’t worry—with Master Lou, Mo Shaoguan, and my own teacher, your daughter will not lack for rescuers!”

“Take my sword,” Lou Yuxiao sighed. “Zhou Qian’s Ghostmaster Sword is no ordinary blade. Shaoguan, let us leave—the room is small enough.”

Mo Shaoguan said nothing, sitting against the door once it was closed.

“Young man, what’s on your mind? Is this world not as you imagined?” Lou Yuxiao sat cross-legged, unconcerned with decorum.

“I’m wondering—if I were in his place, and someone threatened my dearest kin, what would I do?” Mo Shaoguan murmured.

“Oh? And what would you do?”

“I would not yield. Perhaps my kin would be tortured to death, but I would devote my life to vengeance—slaughter my enemy’s blood relations, friends, teachers, followers, anyone connected to them. No matter who they were, I would kill them all! I would thwart every scheme they attempted, and pursue every goal they shunned. That is my answer.”

“Young blood,” Lou Yuxiao’s eyes glinted with wisdom. “The world is full of passionate feuds and bittersweet partings because of people like you. Yet it’s only when you lose what is most precious that you truly treasure it.”

Seeing Mo Shaoguan’s furrowed brow, Lou Yuxiao laughed. “But because of rascals like you, the martial world is vibrant and alive—so much so that old men like me feel our blood stir!”

“And he understands?” Mo Shaoguan asked, indicating the room.

“Haha!” Lou Yuxiao laughed heartily. “He knows what he wants and what he does not want. That is already something—it takes most people a lifetime to learn.”

“But—”

“The fight is fierce!” Lou Yuxiao mused aloud. With his cultivation, he could hear and imagine the duel within.

“Hiss—what swordplay! Zhou Qian is at a real disadvantage now!” Lou Yuxiao exclaimed sharply.

“Why?” Mo Shaoguan blurted.

“Don’t you see?” Lou Yuxiao turned. “He’s granting a man of the martial world the most honorable death.”

Suddenly, the door swung open. Zhou Qian stood there, his right arm, left chest, and calf scored with three deep sword wounds, blood streaming down. Yet his spirit was undimmed, and he exhaled deeply.

“What a marvelous swordsman! What a man!”