Xu Xiaorou continued to plead, unwilling to simply watch her junior martial brother risk his life alone. “But Zhang Qiaoyi just shook her head,” adamantly refusing.
Xu Xiaorou shot her an angry glare, then turned to implore He Ruoshui. He Ruoshui only smiled faintly, saying nothing, letting Xu Xiaorou exhaust every plea.
After a long while, He Ruoshui couldn't stand it any longer and finally sighed, “Rou'er, you get slow-witted whenever it concerns Junior Brother. Have you considered that the Lake Master wouldn't have made no arrangements?”
“The Lake Master?” Xu Xiaorou started, a thoughtful expression blooming on her delicate face.
He Ruoshui smiled and shook her head.
Xu Xiaorou slapped her hand down, suddenly excited. “Right! The Lake Master is meticulous; he must have anticipated everything Junior Brother would do. Did he perhaps send experts to protect him secretly?”
“Oh, you’re only just realizing that now!” Zhang Qiaoyi burst out laughing.
Xu Xiaorou was instantly annoyed, her pretty face flushing as she pounced on Zhang Qiaoyi, tickling her relentlessly. Zhang Qiaoyi immediately went limp, begging for mercy, but Xu Xiaorou showed no quarter, continuing until Zhang Qiaoyi was a soft heap.
He Ruoshui watched from the side, smiling and shaking her head repeatedly.
………………
Li Muzhan stayed at the Spring Breeze Inn for several days. During the daytime, he strolled leisurely through White Cloud City and even bought a small residence in the southern part of the city.
The house was surrounded by willows on all four sides and faced a broad river that traversed White Cloud City from east to west; it was about ten zhang wide and quite magnificent.
This small residence was a single-courtyard structure, containing four rooms, resembling a courtyard house. The courtyard had both bamboo and flowers, making it quite elegant—an ideal resting place for scholars and artists.
White Cloud City was situated at the very south of Southern Realm. Although prosperous, it was somewhat remote, so land prices were not high; Li Muzhan could afford such a small courtyard.
He stabled his horse in the courtyard’s tack room and did not hire any servants. He usually lived alone, meditating and practicing his arts, then going out to wander, sitting in teahouses or taverns for casual conversation.
He absorbed news from all corners, much of it concerning Lin Ping—how formidable his martial arts were, how imposing he had become. A worthy son following a great father, surpassing the master.
Hearing all this, Li Muzhan frowned privately. He hadn’t expected Lin Ping to be so powerful. If this were true, killing him would not be easy.
But no matter how difficult, he had to kill him this time; he could no longer allow him to roam free, or he would have no face to meet the deceased junior sisters.
Lin Ping’s martial prowess had advanced rapidly, likely due to consuming miraculous elixirs. However, even excellent elixirs were useless if they couldn't be fully integrated into oneself.
It was like obtaining a treasured sword that one could not wield with intent; it wouldn't harm the enemy but might wound the self. But Lin Ping possessed excellent aptitude; if he waited longer, he might fully absorb the power.
Therefore, killing Lin Ping was an urgent matter that could not be postponed any further.
He pretended to be an idler, gathering intelligence and scouting for Lin Ping’s whereabouts. Although the Star Lake Courtyard was better informed, he did not wish to become entangled with them.
If he could kill the man subtly and then shed his disguise, becoming someone else, it would have nothing to do with the Star Lake Courtyard—that would be ideal.
This art of disguise he had learned from Han Yuzhu. The disciples of Star Lake Villa each excelled in one unique skill: some in culinary arts, some in the qin, some in the xiao, others in chess, painting, or poetry—truly masters of both martial and literary ways.
Secretly, without the knowledge of the three women, he approached Han Yuzhu and learned this art of disguise.
Han Yuzhu was ice-cold toward him, as if still nursing a grudge. She pretended not to see him, and despite Li Muzhan’s soft entreaties, she would not utter a word.
Li Muzhan didn't grow angry. Every day after finishing his practice, he sought her out. Her training spot was secluded, in the center of a pine forest, unknown to others and difficult to discover.
Li Muzhan paid his respects every day. Upon arriving at her practice ground, she would have already completed a round of martial arts as a warm-up. Li Muzhan would say nothing and immediately attack with his saber. Han Yuzhu would meet the challenge, and the two would spar fiercely, creating a grand spectacle.
Li Muzhan gave no ground; he struck ruthlessly without a shred of chivalry, often managing to win. Sometimes, when his technique lacked refinement, he relied on sheer strength, unleashing the intent of his Mountain-Splitting Saber technique.
Han Yuzhu possessed more finesse than strength. Li Muzhan was her perfect counter. Every time he manifested the saber intent, an esoteric power attached to his blade, allowing him to defeat her.
After each defeat, Han Yuzhu would leave without a word, turning and walking away. Li Muzhan never pursued her, returning the next day as usual.
It was through this persistent wearing-down that, after a month, Han Yuzhu finally agreed to teach him the art of disguise. She repeatedly warned him that the art was unreliable; against a truly sharp-witted person, it was impossible to deceive.
Sharp individuals observe not just appearance but temperament, scent, and subtle habits—things that are extremely difficult to alter through disguise. How easily could years of ingrained habits be changed?
Thus, the disguise art was of little use, better suited for performing tricks to amuse, not for significant undertakings, and it carried considerable risk. It was better not to learn it.
Li Muzhan insisted, and she finally consented, teaching him everything she knew. Each time Li Muzhan visited, he would transform into someone else, allowing Han Yuzhu to pick out flaws.
As time passed, the flaws Han Yuzhu could find became fewer and fewer. Li Muzhan’s mastery of disguise grew stronger until, after another month, she could find no fault at all.
Han Yuzhu privately admired Li Muzhan’s comprehension but showed no emotion, only reiterating that the disguise art was unreliable and he shouldn't place too much hope in it, lest he trap himself in trouble.
Li Muzhan understood her good intentions, smiled, and agreed. Over the next few days, he disguised himself as only one person: a middle-aged man, frost-tinged at the temples, his face haggard, looking like a dejected, unsuccessful scholar.
He poured immense effort into this persona, mimicking it flawlessly. Han Yuzhu couldn't detect a flaw and clicked her tongue in admiration.
It wasn't just the change in appearance, but also the temperament and small movements that revealed the inner man.
Li Muzhan mused that if he were in modern society, his acting skills would be more than enough to become a successful actor; his grasp of mentality was precise, capable of blurring the line between true and false without issue.
……………………………………
Lin Ping’s movements were easily traced. Every evening, he would visit the Tan Chun Pavilion. The courtesan at the top of the Pavilion, Jin Qiaoqiao, was peerlessly beautiful, and her skill in the sword dance surpassed even that of White Cloud City, perhaps all of the Southern Realm.
Many people flocked to White Cloud City just to witness Jin Qiaoqiao’s sword dance: the first movement summoned winds and clouds, the second revealed a cold glint, the third turned the cosmos, and the fourth made her vanish—a testament to the dance’s brilliance.
Lin Ping was infatuated with Jin Qiaoqiao’s sword dance, visiting daily. He didn't just want to watch the dance; he coveted the dancer herself, but his desires remained unfulfilled.
Jin Qiaoqiao sold her artistry but not her body; she was a distant relative of the City Lord’s wife. She was constrained only by her low status, which prevented her from buying her freedom to leave the Tan Chun Pavilion, where she performed. However, with the City Lord’s wife as her powerful backer, no one dared to force her.
Even someone as singular as Lin Ping, upon desiring Jin Qiaoqiao, dared not use coercion, relying only on sincerity to move her, hoping to marry her as a secondary wife.
Although Jin Qiaoqiao was related to the City Lord’s wife, her status was low; she could not be a principal wife but only a concubine. Even as a concubine, no one dared bully her.
However, this Miss Jin was an exceptional figure; not only was her beauty unmatched, but her character was immensely proud. Currently, she was a lay Buddhist practitioner, intending to enter monastic life in the future to keep company with ancient texts and the eternal lamp.
It was no easy task for Lin Ping to take her as a wife, which is why he visited the Tan Chun Pavilion daily, speaking a few words to Jin Qiaoqiao, believing that sincere effort can move stone.
Li Muzhan heard this news and shook his head privately. Since ancient times, heroes have rarely resisted the allure of beautiful women. Even a distinguished figure like Xia Wufeng fell under a woman’s spell; how could Lin Ping be different?
He also felt a flicker of curiosity, wishing to see what made this Jin Qiaoqiao so captivating as to drive Lin Ping to such obsession.
Since Lin Ping visited the Tan Chun Pavilion every day, killing him should be simpler. He would certainly have experts guarding him closely. To kill him, these guards would need to be diverted.
Li Muzhan suspected he, too, might have secret protectors, but he couldn't detect them, and even if he did, he couldn't command them. He could only rely on his own methods.
Furthermore, he needed to meet Lin Ping, to gauge precisely how far his internal energy had increased. If he truly couldn't match strength for strength, he wouldn't throw his life away needlessly.
………………………………
Dusk gathered, and as the lanterns were lit, the Tan Chun Pavilion on the north bank of the great river blazed with light. Sounds of charming women rose and fell, echoing captivatingly from the towering building.
The Tan Chun Pavilion was three stories high, adorned with carved beams, painted rafters, and flying eaves, its height soaring toward the firmament, standing proudly against the night sky. Its lights shone in all directions, resembling a celestial palace.
The Tan Chun Pavilion was shaped like a hollow cylinder, with a high stage erected in the central void, allowing patrons on the surrounding floors a clear, unobstructed view of the platform.
The second floor was closest to the stage, offering a view at eye level. The first floor required looking down, but it contained no rooms, mostly housing mere servants and laborers. Rooms were on the second and third floors.
The second floor offered the best experience. One could open the room door, sit inside, and view the stage entirely, even enjoying wine and food while sitting beside a beauty—the utmost pleasure.
To view from the third floor, one had to step out and lean against the railing. However, the downward angle offered a different perspective, providing a unique flavor.
Li Muzhan entered the Tan Chun Pavilion and requested a room on the second floor. He didn't ask for a woman, only for wine and dishes, lazily cradling a wine cup as he watched.
The room was saturated with feminine scent: pink drapes, pink furniture, even the carpet was pink. A faint perfume drifted in the air, stirring the senses.
Li Muzhan shook his head. A room like this cost ten liang of silver for one evening—ten liang was enough to feed an ordinary family for half a year.
This table of delicacies required twenty liang, perhaps only ten outside. They fleeced customers mercilessly, yet people flocked to the Tan Chun Pavilion incessantly, often fighting for a seat.
Li Muzhan also had to slip the pimp two liang of silver just to secure a room.
He ordered a pot of wine and drank slowly, intent on seeing what kind of stunning beauty could so captivate people that they were enthralled.
He squinted slightly, holding his wine cup as if drunk, but he was actually surveying his surroundings, searching for Lin Ping's silhouette. He scanned the area but found nothing. Occasionally, sweet giggles drifted from neighboring rooms, filled with wanton delight.
His hearing was acute, but he couldn't isolate Lin Ping’s voice. He resorted to using his Void Eye.
The Void Eye swept over the second floor; the scenes inside every room became completely visible. Some embraced women while eating and laughing; others had hands resting intimately but hadn't truly crossed the line—that was strange.
Li Muzhan sighed and shook his head, observing this tableau of human nature where primal impulses were fully released—all kinds of people were present.
His self-control was profound; even witnessing scenes of temptation left his heart undisturbed. He suddenly frowned, having found his target. Coincidentally, Lin Ping was in a room directly to his left.
Thanks to a generous tip, Li Muzhan’s room was ideally situated directly south of the stage, offering a clear front view of the performance.
Lin Ping sat behind a table, next to him a pure-looking beauty, radiating youthful vitality. The room held two tables in total; the adjacent table was occupied by two elderly men, each holding a woman close.
The two women were beautiful in different ways—one full-figured, the other slender—and were feeding wine to the old men with their cherry lips, while the old men’s large hands explored beneath their garments, eliciting giggles from the women.
Lin Ping appeared refined, holding a silver chopstick in one hand while his other hand stroked the thigh of the pure beauty beside him. His expression was composed; his hand was hidden by the table, so his actions weren't visible externally.
…………………………………………
Li Muzhan frowned privately. Though the two old men were smiling flirtatiously, their breathing was even, their vital energy long and stable. Their focus was intense, and they watched their surroundings with vigilance, showing no relaxation whatsoever.
Their demeanor was likely seven or eight parts pretense, designed to lower vigilance. If someone truly intended to assassinate Lin Ping, they would be fooled.
These two old men possessed profound internal energy. Li Muzhan's intuition sent waves of warning, urging him to stay far away from them—they were too dangerous. Li Muzhan sighed inwardly; direct action was impossible now.
Fortunately, he hadn't planned to act immediately anyway; he needed a process, something that unfolded naturally, ensuring no suspicion fell upon the Star Lake Villa.
He found it ironic: upon entering Star Lake Villa, his purpose was merely sanctuary, to avoid causing trouble for Canghai Mountain. Now that he was inside, he had developed affection for the Villa and did not wish to implicate them either.
His disguise as a middle-aged scholar was not enough; he needed to add more layers to completely authenticate his current identity, ensuring no one suspected the Star Lake Villa.
He narrowed his eyes, contemplating deeply, making no rash moves, while simultaneously considering Lin Ping. Lin Ping’s cultivation had indeed taken a massive leap.
In terms of raw power, Li Muzhan was currently inferior. However, Lin Ping had clearly consumed some miraculous elixir; though his internal energy was deep, it was impure, leaking out and beyond his control.
With such power, if he could truly master it—without possessing Li Muzhan’s formidable mental strength—it would require a long period, akin to taming a wild horse.
If the internal energy were shallow, like a colt, it would be easy to tame. But Lin Ping’s energy was profound, like a fierce stallion, far exceeding his current capacity to control, making domestication difficult.
Given his constitution, or through diligent effort, it might take him a year to fully command this energy. But for most people, internalizing such power in a year would be lightning fast; cultivating such profound energy through innate practice might take twenty or thirty years.
The reason aristocratic families remained so powerful was their continuous output of talent. Scions of these families started from a height unattainable by common folk, and with minimal effort, they left others far behind. The strong grew stronger, the weak weaker, eventually forming immense, immovable family structures, like ancient trees rooted deep in the earth.
The Lin family was such a lineage. Li Muzhan felt a chill thinking about it. He had already experienced the formidable reach of Canghai Mountain—it was truly vast and pervasive.
The Lin family, however, seemed a step above Canghai Mountain, likely even more powerful. Could his mere disguise technique truly deceive them?
He felt a flicker of doubt, but having come this far, there was no retreat. He could only lay down layers of elaborate illusions to confuse them as much as possible.
He felt that being alone was somewhat strange, so he summoned the pimp, asking him to find a lady.
…………………………………….”…………
This pimp was clean-featured and always smiling, showing none of the usual sleaziness; rather, he appeared generous and sincere, putting people at ease.
Having received Li Muzhan’s two liang tip—enough for half a year’s wages—he was deeply grateful and served with meticulous care.
People of their low status were generally scorned, subjected to scolding and beatings, and rarely looked at directly. If they received a tip, patrons would prefer to give it to the courtesans rather than to them.
He quickly returned with a young woman, who was composed and quiet. She wore a light-green silk robe, her chest partially veiled—half a green bodice, half sheer gauze—accentuating the delicate fairness of her snow-white skin. Her demeanor blended dignified modesty with subtle allure.
Li Muzhan squinted slightly. It was rare to find a woman with such a refined temperament in a place like this.
He had already learned from the pimp that the Tan Chun Pavilion’s status had risen due to Jin Qiaoqiao, and its talents were excellent; they all sold their art but not their bodies. One could flirt or take small liberties, but no true intimacy was allowed.
Selling art but not the body explained why the place was packed every night. It tapped into the male psyche: a wife is not as desirable as a concubine, a concubine not as good as a secret affair, and a secret affair less tantalizing than one unattainable.
However, this required substantial backing. Among White Cloud City’s numerous pleasure houses, only the Tan Chun Pavilion dared to strictly adhere to this rule.
After the woman entered, she performed a graceful curtsy: “Wan Niang greets Mr. Jiang.”
“Wan Niang—a lovely name. Please, have a seat,” Li Muzhan said with a smile, gesturing to the seat beside him.
He studied her—her gaze was clear and bright, subtly glittering. She was clearly a practitioner of internal arts. She could fool others, but not his spiritual perception.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Truly gentle and virtuous, with a charming temperament. Rare! Truly rare!”
Wan Niang pursed her lips in a slight smile. “Thank you for your praise, Mr. Jiang. I am unworthy; my mere humble appearance hopes not to offend your refined eyes.”
Her conversation was refined; she had clearly read many books. Li Muzhan glanced at the pimp—he was shrewd, selecting his people perfectly based on the patron.
Li Muzhan chuckled, picking up his wine cup for a slow sip, his eyes sparkling as he regarded Wan Niang. “You are too modest. I have never seen such exquisite beauty as yours, Wan Niang.”
Wan Niang smiled faintly, remaining serene and proper.
The pimp beamed. “Mr. Jiang, I shall take my leave now.”
Li Muzhan smiled and nodded at him. “Good, thank you, Little Feng. Take this for some drinks.”
He tossed another silver chain over. The pimp’s smile widened. After a deep bow, he backed away, his steps exceptionally light, lest he disturb Li Muzhan.
Wan Niang let out a soft laugh and gracefully used her slender hand to refill Li Muzhan’s cup. “I didn’t expect Mr. Jiang to be so generous!”
Li Muzhan smiled and looked down at his simple clothes. “Do you think I am a poor scholar who shouldn't be here?”
“Your clothes are indeed plain, sir, which is quite unusual to see,” Wan Niang replied, blinking her large, watery eyes.
Li Muzhan laughed heartily. “That’s true in a way. I was merely a poor student, but I was lucky enough to attach myself to a benefactor, which grants me this current affluence.”
……………………………………
Wan Niang poured a cup for herself, raised the wine cup with both hands, and smiled gracefully. “Congratulations on your good fortune, Mr. Jiang. Wan Niang toasts you!”
The two drank their cups in one gulp. Li Muzhan laughed heartily. “This is truly the utmost pleasure in the human world! No wonder the wealthy enjoy coming here for enjoyment!”
Wan Niang laughed. “You are welcome to visit often, Mr. Jiang. Wan Niang will always await you!”
Li Muzhan waved his hand, chuckling. “Though I have money, I wouldn’t dare be this extravagant. A few visits are fine, but coming often throughout the year would be unsustainable!”
Wan Niang smiled faintly and said no more, using her silver chopsticks to serve him food with utmost tenderness.
Li Muzhan made no move to touch her. Since she was a trained martial artist, getting too close and provoking her might lead to trouble. Even the most superb martial arts couldn't defend against a sneak attack.
After they conversed for a while, Li Muzhan remained perfectly proper, causing no offense—truly like a respectful couple. This made Wan Niang secretly smile.
She assumed Li Muzhan was new and perhaps shy, retaining the fastidiousness of a scholar, hesitant to be too forward. She was pleased with this, and made no effort to press him.
“Ding—” A crisp sound echoed throughout the entire Tan Chun Pavilion. The lights in the surrounding areas dimmed slightly, and several pimps hurried out to extinguish the lanterns along the corridors. Only the lights in the individual rooms remained lit, and the stage lights were the brightest.
Several women, carrying various instruments and clad in modestly cut silk robes, filed onto the high stage and took their places on chairs, separating on either side.
They assumed their positions and then began to move. A melodious tune drifted out, and the clamor of the Tan Chun Pavilion instantly vanished, replaced by silence.
The surrounding lights dimmed further, making the stage light shine ever brighter. The music drifted serenely, and as the notes flowed, the pitch began to climb, as if starting from the ground and ascending.
Later, the melody grew higher and higher, like a white crane soaring toward the sky.
“Zheng…” Everyone’s heartstrings vibrated with the music, as if their own inner strings had been plucked. A figure flickered, and a woman in plain white stood upon the stage.
Dressed in clean, simple white, her attire resembled that of a scholar’s robe—this woman was Jin Qiaoqiao. Li Muzhan praised her silently; she truly was an exquisite creature.
Her face was like white jade, she had a melon-seed face, long, slender eyebrows, and large, bright, seductive eyes that moved lightly, utterly captivating the soul.
To look upon her was to immediately ignore everything else and fix one's gaze solely upon her eyes—those twin pools were simply too captivating, shimmering as if brimming with autumnal water, possessing a silent eloquence.
Li Muzhan inwardly marveled, acknowledging what a peerless beauty she was, noting how rare it was to find anyone who could resist the pull of those large eyes; even he found himself reluctant to look away.
Such a devastating beauty explained why Lin Ping was so infatuated. He activated his Void Eye and looked down, observing Lin Ping's utterly mesmerized expression; the hand that had been resting on the beauty’s thigh retracted instantly, adopting an air of absolute propriety.