“…I would protect you.”
Mo Lixi’s voice was soft, but in the quiet of the room, Fu Yunmo heard every word clearly. Lifting her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a faint blush on Mo Lixi’s face, as vibrant as a plum blossom blooming in the snow.
“I know you all want to protect me,” Fu Yunmo said, her heart a tangled mess. She didn’t dwell on Mo Lixi’s expression; her mind was consumed by a single question: Once I leave the Sihai Inn, where can I go? “But the better you treat me, the more I realize I can’t drag you down with me. You just won the title of Champion at the Martial Arts Assembly. I won’t let the reputation of the Tianyuan Sect be tarnished because of me.”
If she went to the Tianyuan Sect, the martial world would descend upon them in droves. Rumors of a hidden peerless manual would spread like wildfire. The Tianyuan Sect was a sanctuary for women; she couldn’t bear to disrupt their peaceful cultivation.
Mo Lixi remained silent. She took a deep breath, and after a long pause, she spoke. “Is there anything at all I can do to help you?”
Looking into Mo Lixi’s sincere eyes, Fu Yunmo felt a surge of warmth, as pleasant as a breeze in March. “Actually, Sect Leader Mo… you needn’t worry about me. The world is vast; there will surely be a place for me.”
Fu Yunmo’s nature made her uncomfortable with receiving kindness unless she felt she had earned it. In the Moon-Set Villa incident, she had only given Mo Lixi a few hints—Mo Lixi had done the rest herself. Besides, she hadn’t even found a way to repay Mo Lixi for healing her. How could she ask for more help?
“I consider you a friend.”
It was the first time Mo Lixi had been so persistent with someone. She couldn’t explain why. Even with her fellow disciples, she was always polite but distant. Yet this woman, time and again, compelled her to worry.
A friend? Perhaps. Mo Lixi didn’t have friends; perhaps Fu Yunmo was the first.
“…Thank you.” Fu Yunmo felt a strong impulse to agree, but logic held her back. She would not implicate anyone. “Since we are friends, then wish me a safe journey!”
Fu Yunmo managed a gentle smile, the warmth of her gaze reflecting her true feelings.
Mo Lixi’s eyes dimmed for a moment, but when she looked up again, they had returned to their usual calm gentleness. “If you need help, you must tell me. I wish you a safe journey.”
Mo Lixi didn’t push further. Her nature was naturally indifferent, yet she had become strangely stubborn when it came to Fu Yunmo. Perhaps she didn’t realize it yet, but for a long time to come, she would be trapped in a vortex named “Fu Yunmo,” unable to break free.
That evening, the crowds in the front hall had dispersed. Fu Yunmo headed downstairs, intending to find Boss Li, but found that Young Boss Li had started his shift early.
“Sister Mo.” Young Boss Li gave her a comforting smile.
“Has Boss Li already retired?” she asked, her brow furrowing with guilt.
He nodded. “He seemed exceptionally tired today and asked me to take over early.”
Fu Yunmo felt a pang in her heart. This is all because of me… No, not just me. She cast a sharp, resentful glance toward Room No. 3—Ye Xihan’s room.
“Young Boss, is the guest in Room No. 3 still here?” She wanted to confront her. Within the inn, the “Devil” couldn’t strike. Even outside, Ye Xihan wouldn’t kill her if she believed Fu Yunmo held the manual. This gave Fu Yunmo a shred of leverage.
“The lady surnamed Ye? Yes, she’s still in her room,” he replied softly. Even his speech was scholarly and gentle; she had never heard him raise his voice.
As Fu Yunmo started upstairs, he called out, “You’re going to see her? Be careful.”
She reached the door of Room No. 3. After taking several deep breaths, she raised her hand to knock, but a voice came from within.
“Come in.”
As if she had been expecting her, the woman didn’t ask who it was. Fu Yunmo’s breath hitched. She pushed the door open and entered.
Ye Xihan was not wearing her mask. Dressed in white, her icy features and cold personality were tempered by an ethereal, otherworldly aura. But no matter how beautiful she was, Fu Yunmo was afraid. There was a latent lethality in the woman’s eyes and smile, like a blade ready to cut.
This time, Fu Yunmo didn’t cower. Despite her fear, she sat across from Ye Xihan, meeting her gaze across the candlelight. A femme fatale, she thought. The perfect description for her.
Ye Xihan looked up, surprised by the change in the girl. The previous subservience was gone, replaced by a newfound spine.
“You are a clever person,” Ye Xihan said, sipping her tea. A smile played on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which radiated a sinister chill.
Ye Xihan knew Fu Yunmo wasn’t as simple as she appeared. From the way she had impersonated the “Night Devil” to trick the Twin Demons, to how she had already deduced that Ye Xihan was the source of the rumors, it was clear the shop assistant was sharp.
“I don’t have what you’re looking for,” Fu Yunmo stated. All of Ye Xihan’s schemes—driving her out of the inn to isolate her—were for the sake of the legendary Fengyun Manual.
“The last person who said that is dead,” Ye Xihan replied coldly, her tone carrying both confidence and a lethal warning.
Fu Yunmo’s scalp tingled; her legs began to tremble. The man in black was indeed dead. Ye Xihan must have seen him hand her something, but unable to act within the inn, she had killed the man after he fled and found nothing. Now, her sights were locked on Fu Yunmo.
“Whether you believe it or not, I truly don’t have it,” Fu Yunmo sighed. This woman was impossible to deal with, and she seemed convinced the manual was in Fu Yunmo’s hands.
“I remember warning you before,” Ye Xihan said, her eyes turning even colder. “You said you hadn’t met anyone strange. Now you admit it? Perhaps you have a guilty conscience?”
“I just didn’t want to get involved in your conflicts. I’m just a shop assistant, a nobody. I can’t fight you. You can kill me if you wish, but to drag the Sihai Inn into this mess with your rumors… your ‘Demonic Cult’ methods are truly despicable.”
With that, Fu Yunmo stood and turned, not wanting the other woman to see her trembling lips. Gods, that was the gutsiest thing I’ve ever done! She was genuinely furious that her life had been upended because of this woman’s games.
She expected a retort, but none came. It wasn’t until she closed the door behind her that she heard a faint, almost imperceptible chuckle from within the room. It was bone-chilling.
Downstairs, Fu Yunmo decided not to wake Boss Li. She turned to Young Boss Li to say her goodbyes.
“You’ve truly decided?” he asked. He didn’t seem surprised, but the concern in his eyes warmed her heart.
“I don’t want to bring trouble to everyone,” she replied with a bittersweet smile.
“Everyone will miss you,” he said softly.
Fu Yunmo fell silent. She didn’t want to leave this family, but she had no choice. She cursed Ye Xihan’s malice and the man in black who had saddled her with this mess. Of all things to give me, why a salted fish?
“I suppose this is what they call ‘being in the Jianghu—unable to act of one’s own will,'” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. “But I’ll finish transcribing your scripture on time. I’m already more than halfway through.”
“I’m not worried about the book. I’m worried about you.”
His gentle, scholarly tone made her blush slightly. She laughed it off. “Oh, Young Boss, don’t be so mushy. You know what they say—evil lasts a thousand years! An ‘imp’ like me will surely live another five hundred.”
Seeing the tension leave his face, she felt a bit more at ease.
“Go and rest,” he said. “If you need anything, tell us.”
“I’ll need to stay a day or two more. I just hope Boss Li doesn’t wear himself out.” She couldn’t handle the martial artists outside, so she’d have to rely on the Boss for a little longer.
“It’s fine. I’ll help him shoulder the burden.”
After a few more words, Fu Yunmo returned to her room. But in the quiet of the night, a different kind of tension hung over the inn.
The sound of the abacus stopped. Young Boss Li, draped in a fur-lined robe, walked upstairs and stopped before Room No. 3.
“Chief Night…” he called out softly—loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough not to wake the neighbors.
“Even if Miss Fu leaves, she is still one of us. Since you know my identity is not simple, do not take things too far.”
His usually gentle voice was laced with a wintry chill, like icy needles piercing through the door.
“Manager… you should know that as a ‘Devil,’ I don’t like being told what to do. And I certainly don’t take threats.”
The voice from within was equally cold, freezing the very air. In the silence of the Sihai Inn, the storm was just beginning.