Chapter 177: Image Exhaustion

At midnight, near the small, lit-up courtyard bordering the woods, figures moved swiftly. In the dim light, blood splattered, mingling with chaotic shouts and screams. Moments earlier, three individuals dressed like martial artists had attempted to infiltrate the courtyard from different directions. They were promptly discovered by those ambushed nearby, and a fierce fight ensued. One of the intruders was severely wounded on the spot, while the other two were chased into the forest.

Soon after, another figure emerged from the darkness, attempting to scale the wall. The person paused briefly at the top before being ensnared by several lassos thrown from inside. They were dragged in, and a scream echoed for a moment before fading into silence. This was likely just a probing attack and the beginning of something larger; in the darkness, the exact number of people hidden by each side remained unknown.

It was clear that none of them were benevolent. The Shibupo area was sparsely populated at night, and similar clashes between martial arts factions and gangs were not uncommon here. Often, the consequences of these battles would only be discovered the following morning. From a distance, the sounds from the woods resembled the cries of night owls, yet the small courtyard itself remained eerily quiet. It was impossible to tell how many people were still hidden inside and in the vicinity, though light glowed faintly from its windows.

"This isn't your doing... you haven't reached this point yet..."

Xi Junyu was trying to comprehend the contract on the table and everything unfolding before him. Su Tan'er smiled.

"Yes, it wasn't me..." She paused slightly. "You finally admit it..."

"...Then was it Old Man Jing? Or your father?"

Su Tan'er frowned, watching him.

"It can't be Liao Kaitai, and Su Yunsong isn't here either..."

"You won't know."

The woman's fingers were intertwined on the table as she shook her head, her voice cool and distant. Though dressed in men's attire, her appearance remained exquisite. The commanding aura she had cultivated over several years was now evident, and when combined with her usual refined demeanor, it created a truly formidable and chilling presence. As she spoke, distinct sounds of fighting drifted in from outside. Su Tan'er glanced towards the commotion, evidently still somewhat unaccustomed to such violence, and frowned.

"When Wu Qilong told me, I was still somewhat skeptical. But those who would attack like this shouldn't be from the Wu or Xue families. You actually have such people supporting you..."

"One always encounters such people," Xi Junyu finally said after a long silence. He then glanced at Guard Geng behind him. "Earlier, at the Su residence, when Elder Geng notified me and gave me time to prepare, was it for these circumstances?"

"You believed I was destined to lose, and when Uncle Geng told you I was confident, you must have been puzzled, assuming tonight's critical event revolved around you. To be safe, you would naturally inform those you could truly rely on. This allowed us to follow the trail, uncover all of them, and incidentally settle the score for my father's assassination. I just hadn't anticipated they would actually come to rescue you like this..."

"A clever scheme..." Xi Junyu scoffed with a sarcastic smile. "And four months of patient planning. Such an elaborate plot... who is behind it, really?"

Su Tan'er inhaled deeply but did not answer him directly. "At Shibupo, there are monthly brawls that the authorities can't control. If dead bodies are found here tomorrow, it will simply be treated as another such incident, even if innocent bystanders were caught in the crossfire. One can only offer sympathy. You yourself used to say that we merchants fear most breaking ties, breaking rules, and things like assassinations-for-hire. Everyone dreads them because once started, they are endless. Therefore, if such an event occurs, those responsible must be brought to justice. I was initially afraid that if, when the truth finally came out, it turned out to be the Xue or Wu families, I wouldn't know how to proceed. But now that it's you... this is also acceptable."

As she spoke, she pushed her chair back and stood up, apparently ready to leave. Xi Junyu frowned. "...Who is it, then? Du Tingzhong?" he questioned, naming a shopkeeper who was usually quite reliable.

"I told you that you wouldn't know..."

"Don't you want to know why I did these things?"

Su Tan'er stood there, pausing for a moment. "Manager Xi, unlike a mere plant, I am not without feeling. I once regarded you as both a mentor and a friend. Regardless of today's outcome, Su Tan'er feels no satisfaction, only sorrow. The more eloquent your reasons are, the more they will only compound this distress. As long as you know my Su family never mistreated you, why should I bother listening to your explanations?"

Xi Junyu stood there, stunned. For the first time, he understood that Su Tan'er had perhaps never considered him in terms of "man" or "woman." Until this moment, what she had truly harbored in her heart was a purely professional relationship and friendship – that of a mentor and apprentice, or a superior and a subordinate.

"Ha!" He almost laughed, then abruptly raised his voice. "Then who is it, really?" As Su Tan'er walked towards the door, he remained seated, rattling off several more possible names. "It can't possibly be something your three maids came up with!"

"Ning Liheng?"

Reaching the doorway, Su Tan'er paused. Xi Junyu noticed her subtle expression and pondered. "Are you kidding me?" he muttered.

Su Tan'er pushed open the door. Outside, under the eaves of the courtyard, Su Boyong, seated in a wheelchair, was conversing with a tall, burly middle-aged man. From the room behind, a sudden, disbelieving question, uttered through gritted teeth, echoed: "It's... Ning Liheng!?"

At the same moment, in the city.

The aftermath of the clan meeting still lingered, and the Su family mansion, both inside and out, felt slightly chaotic. In the courtyard near the side gate, the light was dim, and fragmented sounds drifted in from a distance, making the surrounding air feel eerily still. The scholar watched the two servants who had just entered from behind him, then abruptly relaxed his posture. "Which part of the manor are you assigned to?" he demanded.

His voice held a hint of anger, causing the two servants to momentarily freeze. The scholar pointed to a fallen body on the ground. "Someone just snuck in, do you realize that? Go get help immediately! You, watch him, I'll go find a rope!"

In the dimness, his words were serious and urgent. After seeing their fallen comrade on the ground and hearing the scholar's instructions, he turned and walked away. It happened so quickly that the two servants were still unsure if he genuinely believed them to be house staff or if he was merely feigning. Nevertheless, if he truly succeeded in calling for reinforcements, things would undoubtedly go awry. Uttering a quick "Yes," they hastily followed him, their bodies still tense with surprise and caution, hands gripping their sword hilts, ready to draw their blades at any moment.

The distance between them closed rapidly, but the scholar had only taken two or three steps when he turned back. "Aren't you going to get help?" he snapped.

The servant on the left, whom the scholar was looking at, hesitated and glanced at his companion. There wasn't much time to think, even if both parties suspected the other was feigning. Naturally, there were two options: either agree and continue the act, or immediately draw their swords and reveal their true intentions. As this option briefly flashed through his mind, the scholar waved the knife in his hand. "Oh, and take this..."

Both men were wary of the scholar's weapon, but his next action was entirely unexpected: he tossed the knife directly to the man on the right, who was walking a little faster. A subtle sense of relief washed over both of them. The man on the right reached out to catch the blade, while the man on the left nodded slightly, about to utter "Yes." It was precisely at this instant that the tension in the air, which had briefly eased, suddenly snapped to its breaking point. With a speed that allowed for almost no reaction, it violently broke!

Their relaxed mood vanished into thin air as the whoosh of an attack filled the space, and figures abruptly collided. With a resounding crash, the man on the left cried out as he drew his sword. The blade glinted with starlight, sweeping through the air like a sudden ripple on a lake. *Clang!* Sparks flew, tracing long lines in the air. The force of the counter-shock caused him, having drawn his sword in haste, to stumble backward involuntarily. His companion on the right was sent flying sideways, crashing with a thud into a small stone table by the edge of the courtyard.

What came into view was the scholar's back, rapidly approaching then pulling away. There was no hint of scholarly demeanor left in him now. Holding his knife, and after clashing with them, he moved directly towards the injured man who lay among the stone table and stools. The servant on the left, still reeling from shock after drawing his sword and being forced back, stopped and could barely process the unfolding situation.

The scholar had initially acted as if he harbored no suspicion towards the two men – an act that neither of them would possibly believe. However, since the scholar seemed to be leaving, they were content to go along with it, maintaining extreme vigilance in their minds, wary of him suddenly shouting or erupting in rage. But everything unfolded too quickly, and many of their actions were merely first reactions. Because they were on guard, they paid extra attention to the scholar's movements. It was in this tense atmosphere that when the scholar immediately tossed the very knife they were most concerned about, the slight moment of surprise inevitably caused them a crucial lapse in attention.

In that moment of surprise, the man on the right instinctively reached out to catch the knife, while the man on the left's tension abruptly eased for an instant. Even before the blade had landed, the man named Ning Yi launched his attack. He directly struck and sent the man on the right flying, then snatched the knife from the air and clashed it against the blade that was swinging towards him from the other side. Immediately, using the momentum, he pressed relentlessly towards the man he had just struck down.

As sparks from the clashing metal still scattered in the air, Ning Yi felt a slight surprise. Lu Hongti had told him that the internal energy she taught him was only second-rate, capable of boosting explosive power during a fight, but not truly top-tier, and could even harm the body if overused. He hadn't been practicing for very long. This was his first time exerting full strength, and he hadn't expected a kick to be so powerful. He wondered if the concept of "second-rate" differed between ordinary people and true masters. This thought flashed through his mind as he seamlessly switched the dagger from his right hand to his left. He then bent down, snatched a bluestone brick from the ground, and slammed it against the back of the head of the man who still seemed to be stirring among the overturned stone table and stools.

Turning around, the servant who had just clashed swords with him was charging forward, only to stop abruptly, knife raised. Both of his companions were now lying on the ground. He looked ahead, then sideways, breathing heavily. "You... you..." he stammered.

"Well, this works too, you're quite capable," the scholar said, cupping his hands in the dim light and smiling like a seasoned martial artist. "I am Ning Liheng, known in the Jianghu as 'Blood-Hand Butcher.' I have too many enemies to keep track of, so may I ask, who sent you?"

Regardless, the nickname "Blood-Hand Butcher" sounded remarkably imposing once spoken aloud.