"Hmph..." But the swordsman in black had no intention of stopping there. Although his Yintian Sword Array was largely broken, his own skill was far from lacking. He lunged forward rapidly, aiming directly for the elder's chest. The elder reacted quickly enough, drawing his own sword to meet the swordsman in black, engaging him in several more exchanges. Poor Ye Xiu, however, couldn't withstand the onslaught; with a thud, he tumbled into the scattered dead leaves, crying out in pain.

"Go! Run!" The elder fought while retreating, urging Ye Xiu along. Hearing this, Ye Xiu scrambled to his feet and, guided by the elder, fled in another direction.

The others intended to press the pursuit immediately, but the swordsman in black waved his hand, stopping them.

"No need to rush off. Mo Yi has taken my poison; he won't live long. We can simply go collect his corpse in a few days."

Ye Xiu helped the elder, and after an unknown duration of flight, they finally found a dilapidated shack near the sea to rest. Ye Xiu was largely unharmed, save for a sharp ache in his rear. The elder, however, already had pale lips; the black-clad man's sword was indeed poisoned. All Ye Xiu could think about was how to cure the poison.

"Senior, what are we to do?"

Although the elder was physically weakened, his mind was still clear. Seeing Ye Xiu's helpless state, he suddenly broke into a hearty laugh. "It's alright, young man, stop racking your brain for a solution. This poison cannot be cured. I will succumb to it and die in three days."

"Hoo..." A chill ran down Ye Xiu's spine. He hadn't expected such a formidable senior to be felled by mere poison. He didn't know whether to feel regret or rage.

Seeing Ye Xiu's melancholy, the elder comforted him, "I have protected my vital core; the next two days should pass relatively easily. Don't worry, young man."

"Alas! Forgive this junior for being utterly useless against this damned poison." With no other recourse, Ye Xiu slumped dejectedly beside the elder, idly toying with the Mu Shang in his hand.

The elder adjusted himself, finally feeling a slight lessening of the pain from his wound. He looked at Ye Xiu with concern. "I still don't know your name, young man. You actually saved my life just now."

"This humble one is Ye Xiu. As for saving your life, I am deeply ashamed; I should have acted sooner." Ye Xiu was genuinely regretful.

"Young Hero Ye worries too much. That Yintian Sword Array is not something just anyone can easily breach. The fact that you could help me break the formation and escape already shows considerable ability," the elder said with a tranquil smile, shifting his gaze to the Muzi Sword in Ye Xiu's hand.

"Right, I still don't know what to call you, Senior. Judging by what those people said, they seemed to be from the Mohist school."

"I am indeed the Sect Leader of the Mohists, Mo Yi. Those men were all my clansmen, but they mistakenly followed my Eldest Senior Brother." Mo Yi showed a touch of melancholy as he said this; how could fellow disciples turn against each other so fiercely?

Sect Leader of the Mohists? Ye Xiu felt a surge of secret delight. It seemed his narrow escape from death truly meant a future blessing; to encounter the Mohist Sect Leader here was a rare fortune indeed.

Mo Yi drew a slow breath and continued, "My Eldest Senior Brother, Mo Fei, has always resented not becoming the leader. Not only did he murder our master, but now he hunts me down, seeking the priceless treasures: the Mozi Sword and the Mozi Token."

Speaking of the Mozi Sword, Ye Xiu lowered his head to examine the wooden sword in Mo Yi's hand closely. Its color was pale, and its structure was very simple, completely lacking the intricate dragon carvings that adorned his Muzi Sword.

"What is it? Interested in this sword?" Mo Yi noticed Ye Xiu's scrutiny and spoke slowly, "Actually, the moment I first saw you—or rather, the moment I saw the sword in your hand—I already knew your background."

"What?" Ye Xiu was stunned by Mo Yi's cryptic remark. Did he know the origin of the Muzi Sword?

"You are from the Valley of Ghosts, aren't you?" Mo Yi stated his thought directly, without the slightest concealment. "I heard my master speak of it when I was young: the Mozi Sword of the Mohists, and the Muzi Sword of the Valley of Ghosts. I imagine the one in your hand must be the Muzi Sword."

Ye Xiu felt a creeping sense of awe toward the senior before him, who could discern the truth with just one sentence.

"Well? Was I wrong, Young Hero Ye?" Mo Yi slowly used his sword to support himself as he rose. "I am a dying man now. I know the rules of the Valley of Ghosts; you can choose to tell me some things, or you need not."

Ye Xiu had always been intensely curious about the mysteries of the martial arts of the Valley of Ghosts. Today, he had met the Mohist Sect Leader, who knew something about the Valley of Ghosts' lore. Naturally, he wished to hear more. Thus, he stood up and bowed: "This humble one is indeed the Sect Leader of the Valley of Ghosts, and this sword is indeed the Muzi Sword."

"Sect Leader?" Mo Yi was greatly surprised. He hadn't expected this young man before him to be the leader of the Valley of Ghosts, but then again, anyone who could wield the Muzi Sword could not be an ordinary person.

"What else do you know, Senior?" Ye Xiu asked with urgent curiosity.

Mo Yi waved his hand, thinking carefully. "Legend has it that my Mohist school and your Valley of Ghosts originated from the same lineage. They split when the two founders disagreed on the path of righteousness. The Mohists emphasize benevolence and righteousness, while the practitioners of the Valley of Ghosts focus on lethal striking. Rumor has it that the Mozi Sword and the Muzi Sword were originally one sword."

"One sword?" Ye Xiu gripped the Muzi Sword tightly in his hand, then set Mo Yi's Mozi Sword beside it. No matter how he looked at the two wooden swords, they did not seem like they were once unified.

Mo Yi looked at the confused Ye Xiu and smiled. "The Mozi Sword is the sword heart; the Muzi Sword is the sword form. Lacking either one, the inherent killing aura is gone."

Ye Xiu nodded in agreement. Despite possessing the most profound assassination techniques, the Muzi Sword in his hand had never actually taken a life.

"Then, can the two swords be merged again?" Ye Xiu suddenly became very interested, staring intently at the two wooden swords.

"Who knows? But for the leaders of our two great schools to meet today is fate. Why don't you show me the sword techniques of the Valley of Ghosts?" Mo Yi intended to test Ye Xiu's skill and gestured for him to follow him out of the straw shed. Ye Xiu was naturally eager to see what marvels would occur when the Mozi Sword and Muzi Sword met, so the two walked leisurely toward the seaside cliff.

"Young Hero Ye, please draw your sword." As the senior, Mo Yi naturally yielded the advantage to Ye Xiu, but what astonished him was that Ye Xiu simply closed his eyes and stood motionless on the spot.

Indeed, Ye Xiu was gradually entering a state of profound realization. He had never felt so combative as he did today. With this attitude, the Muzi Sword in his hand seemed to have encountered a long-lost adversary, beginning to tremble faintly. The scene of falling leaves was now mirrored in his mind as a single, blood-red character: "KILL!"

"Ah..." Ye Xiu's eyes suddenly flashed open, and he moved with ghostly speed. This strike was executed with absolute focus; he felt everything around him slowing down, all sounds decelerating, even the sound of his own breathing abruptly ceasing. He failed to notice that the Purple Wind Chains on his arms were already wreathed in mist.

In an instant, lightning flashed, followed by a sharp, unbearable sound. Ye Xiu’s Muzi Sword was pressed against Mo Yi’s throat, exactly where the Mozi Sword fiercely blocked it.

"Heh heh." Mo Yi chuckled easily, sighing, "Indeed, objects that complement and restrain each other."

Ye Xiu felt that the sensation of that strike was superb. He finally understood what the Valley of Ghosts prided itself on: high-speed assassination. It turned out the purpose of the Purple Wind Chains was precisely this. However, he was equally astonished by Mo Yi's skill—to be able to block that attack was truly extraordinary.

"Anyone else, anyone without the Mozi Sword in hand, would probably be dead by now." Mo Yi’s forehead was already beaded with cold sweat. "I barely had any time to react; it was all the Mozi Sword's doing—the sword drove my hand."

"This..." Ye Xiu struggled to comprehend.

Mo Yi took a steadying breath and began to examine the Muzi Sword closely. He noticed that the tip of the Muzi Sword was hidden between two intertwining monstrous dragons. Strangely, the tip showed no sign of polishing, meaning it lacked the luster expected of any sharp blade.

"Senior, are you alright?" Ye Xiu retracted his sword and bowed.

Mo Yi shook his head and smiled. "At last, I have witnessed the profound assassination sword art of the Valley of Ghosts. My life is complete."

Ye Xiu was still puzzled by that last strike, especially regarding the Purple Wind Chains. This time, they had been remarkably cooperative, activating the moment he struck.

"Right, Young Hero Ye," Mo Yi stroked his chin, questioning, "Is the sword art of the Valley of Ghosts limited only to this one fatal blow?"

"This..." Ye Xiu suddenly felt quite embarrassed and whispered, "This junior has indeed only learned the superficial elements, and even that one strike cannot be launched every time. I am truly ashamed."

"Hahaha!" Mo Yi burst into loud laughter. "Young Hero Ye, are you interested in learning the sword techniques of my Mohist school?"

"Mohist sword techniques?" Ye Xiu was inwardly pleased but then worried that sword arts were such profound things; how much could he grasp in just two days?

Mo Yi walked a few paces with his hands clasped behind his back. Seeing Ye Xiu’s lack of response, he spoke coldly, "Since Sect Leader Wei is uninterested, then..."

"Please guide this junior, Senior!" Ye Xiu hurriedly interrupted Mo Yi's words, dropping to one knee. He realized that all his previous humiliation was likely due to his insufficient skill; relying only on scattered footwork could not possibly contend with true martial arts masters wielding real weapons.

Mo Yi helped Ye Xiu up and clapped him heavily on the shoulder. "Young man, I will now perform the routine of the Mohist sword style. Watch and learn."

"Mm." Ye Xiu nodded, slowly stepping back a few paces to give Mo Yi some room.

Mo Yi grasped his sword with one hand while lightly stroking the blade with the other. With a shout of "Sword Sweeps the Universe," he soared into the air. In mid-air, his right hand pointed straight down, and the wooden sword followed his hand's trajectory. Though the force was not immense, it nonetheless carved a small mark into the sheer cliff face.