The Second Young Miss of the Zhao household, Zhao Shuxing, is dead?
Chu'he froze for a moment. "How do you know?"
Ninth pointed ahead. "There's a lot of bloodstains over there. With that much blood loss, no ordinary person could survive."
Chu'he followed his finger and stared for a long time. "Where are the bloodstains?"
Ninth looked slightly disdainful. "You can't see them?"
Chu'he: "...I'm blind."
Ninth raised his brows, his gaze shifting to Fang Songhe standing nearby.
Fang Songhe was rather surprised. After all, this Ninth had seemed to dislike him from the start, never once looking at him properly. Now that he was being given such a pointed glance, he felt almost "honored."
Chu'he quickly interjected, "Fang Gongzi doesn’t know either, Ninth. None of us are as capable as you. Hurry up and tell us, where are the bloodstains?"
Ninth withdrew his gaze and stood up, his tall and straight figure seeming even more imposing.
"Everything has to rely on me. The methods of you Central Plains people are truly lacking."
Who he meant by "Central Plains people" was clear to everyone present.
Chu'he glanced worriedly at Fang Songhe. After all, Ninth’s words were a sweeping generalization. Even if Fang Songhe had the best temper, he’d surely be displeased.
If they started fighting, should she—a weakling—try to intervene or not?
Fang Songhe’s expression did change slightly, but it was out of self-reproach. He cupped his hands and said, "My skills are indeed lacking. I’ve troubled Ninth Gongzi to step in multiple times. I’m well aware of my shortcomings and will strive to improve."
Ninth’s eyelid twitched.
Going head-to-head with Fang Songhe was like punching cotton—no resistance, no rebound. It made him feel like a ridiculous clown, utterly frustrated.
For some reason, seeing Ninth’s disgruntled expression made Chu'he want to laugh.
Tiny blue specks of light, like scattered stars, appeared in the air. They drifted like floating spirits, slowly creeping forward—some landing on the floor, some sticking to the walls, and even the table legs were dotted with the eerie glow.
Ninth said, "Though Netherworms don’t kill and aren’t particularly useful, they’re highly sensitive to the scent of blood."
Every spot touched by the blue glow indicated where blood had recently been spilled.
The glow was especially dense on the floor, spreading outward in all directions.
Fang Songhe frowned. "Someone must have stood here before being wounded by a blade. Some blood sprayed onto the walls, but most pooled on the ground. It’s horrifying."
Ninth wanted to mock him further, but Fang Songhe’s deductions were undeniably reasonable.
As Ninth had said, with that much blood loss, survival was impossible.
Fang Songhe mused, "This is Second Young Miss Zhao’s room. If the victim truly was her, then where is her body?"
Ninth fiddled with the small bells on his person, uninterested in responding.
Chu'he picked up the thread. "Right, where’s the body?"
Ninth drawled lazily, "Just follow the strongest scent of death."
Fang Songhe’s eyes lit up. "Ninth Gongzi, do you have a way to track the corpse’s scent?"
Ninth fell silent again.
Fang Songhe looked to Chu'he.
Chu'he took a moment to gather herself, then widened her eyes, shining with admiration, her voice sweetening with excitement.
"Ninth, you’re so amazing, so brilliant, so knowledgeable—you must have a way, right?"
The little green snake perched on her shoulder blinked its eyes in exaggerated unison, perfectly playing the role of a hype man.
Ninth gave the pair a cool glance and said flatly, "Well, it’s not like there’s no way."
Just as Chu'he was about to ramp up her theatrics to coax him into helping, Ninth abruptly yanked her into his arms.
At the same time, Fang Songhe drew his sword, slicing a hidden weapon that had shattered through the window clean in half.
Once Chu'he realized what had happened, she trembled, clutching Ninth’s sleeve and pressing tightly against him.
Looking down, she saw that the so-called hidden weapon was nothing more than a single leaf.
Ninth called out, "Little Yellow."
An animal’s cry echoed from outside, followed by a graceful, slender figure landing at the doorway.
Standing tall and poised, the man surveyed the room with a smile. "I thought we had intruders in the dead of night, but it turns out we have honored guests instead."
"Ribbit!"
A toad as tall as a person leaped out of the darkness, landing heavily. Its recently healed tongue, dripping with potent venom, lashed toward the man’s back.
The man remarked, "Ninth Gongzi, your pet is quite terrifying. I was merely retrieving the commission for our guests from the accounts when I inadvertently offended you. My apologies."
The toad’s venomous tongue stopped just a hair’s breadth from the man’s skull—one tiny movement, and it would have pierced straight through.
Yet, even in the face of such danger, the man remained unruffled, his smile as courteous as ever.
Peeking out from behind Ninth, Chu'he recognized the man as the refined and polite Song Tingxue.
But something felt off. Though Song Tingxue was as genteel as when they first met, there was an inexplicable difference in his aura.
Ninth extended his hand. "The commission."
Song Tingxue produced several banknotes and placed them in Ninth’s palm.
Before Ninth could even warm them, Chu'he had already tucked the money into her own pocket, justifying, "Ninth, I’ll keep it safe for you. Since we’re close, I won’t even charge a storage fee. Consider this a favor."
Ninth pondered and realized he was indeed getting a good deal. He muttered, "Fine."
Song Tingxue glanced between Ninth and Chu'he, his expression flickering with uncertainty.
The giant toad vanished back into the night as if it had never existed.
Song Tingxue surveyed the disarray in the room before his gaze settled on the unfamiliar swordsman.
"And this gentleman is…?"
"This humble one is Fang Songhe."
Song Tingxue’s eyes widened. "The renowned Gentleman Sword of the martial world, Fang Daxia! It’s an honor."
Ninth asked Chu'he, "Is he famous?"
Chu'he nodded. "Very."
Ninth pursed his lips. "I’m famous too."
Chu'he: "Huh?"
"Chi Yan." Ninth leaned in, whispering by her ear. "My name."
Chu'he blinked blankly.
Ninth added softly, "If someday I’m not with you and you’re in danger, just say my name. It’ll work."
Chu'he deadpanned, "I don’t want that day to come."
Ninth only smiled faintly, saying nothing more.
Song Tingxue finally asked, "Might I inquire why you’ve come to Shuxing’s room in the middle of the night?"
