Because of the foolish antics of a certain couple, nearly half of Canghaizhou was thrown into chaos.
Some cursed, "Damn those martial artists!"
Others rejoiced, "Money’s falling from the sky! Free money!"
Meanwhile, self-proclaimed righteous warriors brandished their blades and gave chase.
"You’re making a ruckus, disturbing the peace—have you no manners? Dare to leave your names?"
The girl’s voice drifted through the night, "I change neither my name nor my surname—"
The boy’s voice, lively and bright, followed, "The world calls me Blade Demon, the third son of the Blade family!"
"Achoo!"
Heart Knife jolted awake in the dead of night, sneezing once, then twice. Rubbing his nose, he sighed dramatically, "Must be another fair maiden pining for me. What a sin, what a sin."
He flopped back onto his bed, only for the distant laughter of a pair of lunatics to drift through his window. Pulling the blanket over his head, he finally managed to get some sleep.
Early the next morning, Left-hand Knife and Right-hand Knife came knocking on Heart Knife’s door.
Seeing his bruised and battered face, they gasped, "Third Brother, did you trip into a ditch while playing thief last night?"
Heart Knife pulled a scarf over his face, his fan creaking ominously in his grip. "Don’t even ask. I trusted the wrong people, wasted my sincerity!"
Left-hand Knife and Right-hand Knife exchanged glances, barely hiding their amusement.
Heart Knife, always preening over his good looks, had finally gotten his comeuppance—much to their delight.
"Alright, Third Brother, we’ve rested for a full day and night. Time to get back to business."
"Tomorrow, Wenren Buxiao is hosting a banquet for us. Since we’ve got nothing to do today, let’s go hunt for that treasure."
The two flanked Heart Knife, slinging their arms over his shoulders in a show of brotherly affection.
The moment they stepped out of the estate, a crowd surged toward them.
"Look! That’s Blade Demon, the third son of the Blade family!"
"That’s the one who disturbed everyone’s sleep with his martial arts last night!"
"He’s the one who played the charity fairy—got any more coins to toss?"
Some were eager, others hostile, but all rushed forward.
Heart Knife stumbled back. "Wait, what are you all doing?"
The crowd roared, "Brothers, this is the guy who ruined our sleep! Teach him a lesson!"
Heart Knife retreated three more steps. "Eldest Brother! Second Brother! Protect me!"
Left-hand Knife and Right-hand Knife drew their blades.
The mob raised their weapons—knives, forks, spears, even rolling pins and spatulas.
Without hesitation, the two stepped aside, leaving Heart Knife exposed.
Someone shouted, "What’s your relation to Blade Demon?"
Left-hand Knife: "Don’t know him."
Right-hand Knife: "No relation."
Heart Knife: "Eldest Brother! Second Brother!"
"Charge, brothers!"
Heart Knife spun on his heel and bolted, using his qinggong to flee. Most in Canghaizhou knew a bit of martial arts, and soon a sea of people chased after him.
Murong Meixin, still recovering from his injuries, crouched on the ground with a pair of dowsing rods, meticulously inching forward. In his pristine white robes, with his striking features, he looked every bit the celestial immortal—enough to make passersby whisper about whether such a handsome gentleman was single.
Murong Meifei trailed behind him, skeptical. "Is this method really going to work?"
"Of course! I read it in a book. These are treasure-seeking rods. Just wait, Junior Sister. I’ll help you find the world’s greatest martial arts manual and make you the most powerful figure in the land."
Murong Meifei’s icy expression softened slightly—until her brother added,
"Then you can protect me even better!"
Her eyelid twitched.
Suddenly, the ground trembled, and a gust of wind swept through.
Blade Demon’s third son flew past overhead, followed by a stampede of people. Dust clouds billowed as Murong Meixin’s shrieks pierced the air.
Once the crowd passed, he scrambled up, covered in grime, hopping mad. "Filthy! Disgusting! I’m going to die! Blade Demon, are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
Murong Meifei turned away with a resigned sigh.
Heart Knife, exhausted from running, knew the mob wouldn’t dare cause trouble near the governor’s estate. He leaped back onto the roof tiles, panting in relief—only for fury to flare anew.
"Which scheming villain framed me like this?!"
Crack!
The tiles beneath him shattered, and he plummeted straight into a steamy bathtub below.
Splashing to the surface, he blinked—and froze at the sight before him. His face burned crimson.
Then—SMACK!
"Pervert!"
The slap sent him flying out of the room, tumbling across the grass before skidding to a stop.
A boy of thirteen or fourteen immediately pounced, kicking and punching.
"Scoundrel!"
"Degenerate!"
"Lewd beast!"
"How dare you peek at the goddess bathing?!"
"I’ve been staking out for hours and didn’t even get a glimpse! Who gave you the right?!"
Heart Knife’s eyes snapped open. "Wait, wasn’t that last part just as perverted?"
"None of your business!"
Su Lingxi, all traces of noble grace gone, lunged at him again.
Nearby, a raven covered its eyes with a wing, sighing deeply. Then, sensing a chilling aura, it turned—only to meet the icy stare of the woman now draped in robes by the window.
The raven shuddered, thoroughly mortified.
Shangguan Huanxi "hmph"-ed and bolted the doors shut.
"Seems everyone had a good night’s rest, judging by all the excitement this morning."
Chu'he sat by the pond, chin in hands, listening to the clamor around her. Her feet dangled in the cool water, and she giggled.
"Ah’he, it’s ready."
Ninth, barefoot with his pants rolled up, waded in beside her. His pale toes occasionally nudged the little bell on Chu'he’s ankle, sending ripples dancing across the water.
He pressed close, handing her a small green bamboo flute—one he’d carved overnight. He’d promised her a flute ages ago and had finally delivered.
Chu'he ran her fingers over the smooth craftsmanship, far superior to her own clumsy wooden figurine. Ninth guided her hands, showing her how to blow into it.
But every attempt produced only screeches, never a melody.
Pouting, she noticed his odd expression each time. "Do I sound that bad?"
"No."
Chu'he: "Then what's with that expression of yours?"
Ninth smiled: "I just think your boasting has a certain... artistic flair."
