Chapter Fourteen: I Like Sitting Beside You

Withered Leaf had gone to such great lengths for one purpose alone: to safeguard the Arhat's Golden Body.

He had intended to use Huang Yisheng’s hand to rid himself of the tail that kept dogging him, but not only had he failed, he had ended up in a far worse predicament.

Now, both he and Huang Yisheng had fallen victim to each other’s poison, leaving them stripped of all their powers.

Only the Thousand-Faced Venom Lord and the woman at the doorway remained unaffected.

It was the classic case of man as the butcher’s knife, himself as the fish on the block.

The only thing left for him to do was to keep silent. As long as he did not speak, he refused to believe that Lu Zhou could ever find the Arhat's Golden Body.

Lu Zhou smiled faintly.

As a professionally trained, orthodox undercover agent, Lu Zhou could glean what he wanted even if Withered Leaf said nothing—he could read everything from the subtlest shifts in expression.

For instance, someone preparing to lie would always glance up and to the left.

Withered Leaf’s first reaction was just that—a fleeting glance up and left, betraying that he was already concocting a lie in his mind. Even if he now refused to speak, he had drafted his answer in his heart.

But what he didn’t know was that such mental preparation often gave away even more.

Lu Zhou turned to Zhao Jin’er, who stood by the door, and smiled: “Why don’t you check on the innkeeper behind the counter?”

A tavern should have an innkeeper, after all.

Withered Leaf’s beard trembled ever so slightly, but Lu Zhou acted as though he hadn’t noticed, continuing to smile at him. “It’s not too late to tell me now…”

Withered Leaf only shook his head.

Zhao Jin’er slowly walked over to the counter, peered over, and looked inside.

There lay an old man, lifeless.

“The innkeeper is dead,” Zhao Jin’er announced, taking a step back. She disliked death; in her view, if one could live well, why resort to killing? What she loathed even more were people like Withered Leaf, who murdered others for their own gain. Huang Yisheng, and even Tantai Mingjing, were no different.

“Dead?” Lu Zhou sighed softly. “All these deaths over the Arhat’s Golden Body—was it worth it?”

Withered Leaf looked up at him. “Even if not for the Golden Body, people would die over the Silver Body, or the Bronze. Men are greedy by nature; as long as greed exists, death is inevitable.”

“You’re right,” Lu Zhou said with a sudden smile. “Who would’ve thought the clearest-sighted person in this room would be you. But I seem to recall…”

“The Arhat’s Golden Body is a corpse as well, isn’t it?”

At those words, Withered Leaf’s vision went black.

What did he mean? How could he know?

Withered Leaf had prepared for every eventuality. He’d always believed that even if he died today, no one would ever discover the Golden Body’s whereabouts.

He had disguised it as the corpse of the innkeeper and placed it behind the counter.

All he had to do was wait for the people from Southern Zhou to arrive, and following the instructions he had sent by carrier crane, they would take the Golden Body away.

He had spent twenty years undercover at the Vajra Monastery for this very prize.

He had prepared for everything—how could anyone have seen through him?

The Thousand-Faced Venom Lord.

Wasn’t he supposed to be notorious for his ruthless killing, utterly devoid of humanity?

How could such a man possess such meticulous powers of deduction?

How…?

Withered Leaf could think no further, for the dead cannot think. He saw a sword pass through his throat, so swift he had no strength to resist.

More shocked than he was Huang Yisheng.

At some point, the sword in Huang Yisheng’s hand had already found its way into Lu Zhou’s.

What astounded him most was that Lu Zhou’s sword was even faster than his own.

Lu Zhou stepped back, clearly unwilling to let Withered Leaf’s blood splatter his clothes. The sword thrust was swift; the withdrawal, swifter still—so fast that, before blood could spurt from Withered Leaf’s throat, Lu Zhou had already retreated several paces away.

He tossed the sword back to Huang Yisheng and dusted off his hands.

“That’s settled, then?”

Zhao Jin’er returned to the door, lifting the curtain. A gust of cold wind blew in, dispersing much of the iron scent of blood that filled the room.

She found it hard to meet Lu Zhou’s gaze. In her memories, he had always been a calm and steady man. This was the first time she had seen him kill.

Withered Leaf, master of the Tribulation Crossing stage, had fallen to Huang Yisheng’s Thousand Mechanisms Powder.

Both Huang Yisheng and Withered Leaf had plotted and schemed to the end, never expecting that the final oriole would be Lu Zhou.

Zhao Jin’er wondered, if they knew Lu Zhou was only an imposter posing as the Thousand-Faced Venom Lord, would they cough up blood in rage?

“What about this fellow?” Zhao Jin’er pointed to Huang Yisheng, who was now trembling with fear.

Huang Yisheng immediately dropped to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut, though no tears would come. “Don’t kill me! I can tell you Withered Leaf’s secret!”

“Withered Leaf’s secret?” Lu Zhou smiled. “Withered Leaf is already dead. Does his secret still matter?”

“This…” Huang Yisheng was speechless. The trump card he’d hidden in his heart now proved utterly useless.

Lu Zhou suddenly smiled, his tone leisurely. “To be fair, I think your death would be rather unjust. Wealth tempts the heart—you’re an ordinary man, so it’s only natural you’d risk comfort for a chance at fortune. I understand. But today, you’ve learned the secret of the Arhat’s Golden Body from me. If you were me, what would you do?”

“You wouldn’t let me go either, would you?” Huang Yisheng hung his head in defeat. He knew Lu Zhou spoke the truth.

“But I have a contrary streak—when others do one thing, I prefer to do the opposite. So today, I’m going to let you go.”

“???” Huang Yisheng jerked his head up, unable to believe what he’d heard.

“Is the Venom Lord serious?” he ventured.

When life was at stake, one had to try every chance—what if it were true?

“I mean it. You may leave now,” Lu Zhou replied, stepping aside.

Huang Yisheng hesitated only a moment before striding out without looking back. He was a man of decisive action, and such men would never hesitate in moments like this.

To stay meant certain death; to go meant a chance at life.

It was hardly a difficult choice.

And so…

He truly did walk out—on and on until the tavern with the vermilion railings was lost from sight behind him, and only then did he let out a long breath.

The Thousand-Faced Venom Lord—terrifying beyond compare!

—

A carriage rolled over thick snow, its wheels creaking.

Zhao Jin’er and Lu Zhou sat side by side on the coachman's bench, their shoulders touching. The cold wind tossed Zhao Jin’er’s hair, the ends flicking against Lu Zhou’s face.

Lu Zhou said helplessly, “The wind is fierce out here. Why not sit inside?”

“I like sitting with you,” Zhao Jin’er replied, her cheeks tinged with red.

“But it’s cramped,” Lu Zhou protested.

She shot him a glance. “Then you go inside, and I’ll drive the carriage.”

“Didn’t you just say you wanted to sit with me?” Lu Zhou shifted closer, unable to resist the subtle scent of lilies that drifted from her, teasing his senses.

Zhao Jin’er wrinkled her nose. “Compared to a corpse, I’d much rather sit with you.”

Inside the carriage, there lay a corpse known as the Arhat’s Golden Body.

—