Chapter 467

Cheng Jian opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Standing before the counter, his two hands nervously twisted together, his gaze flickered between Chen Mu and then darted away.

The temptation of one hundred thousand taels of silver had clearly moved him, but the words on his tongue were blocked by something unseen.

Chen Mu was not in a hurry.

He continued his work, movements calm and unhurried, as if nothing had just happened.

About the time it took to finish a cup of tea passed.

"Shopkeeper Duan."

Cheng Jian finally spoke, his voice dry, "I… I'm not trying to hide anything from you. It's just that this matter… this matter involves too much. I…"

He couldn't go on.

Chen Mu looked up at him.

"Brother Cheng."

His voice remained gentle, without a trace of blame, "You came to me because you trust me. If you find it inconvenient to speak, then don't. I don't need that hundred thousand taels, and you shouldn't force yourself."

Cheng Jian's eyes reddened.

"Shopkeeper Duan… I…"

He took a deep breath, as if making a firm decision.

"I'll tell you."

He pulled over a stool and sat down before the counter. This time, he did not glance around—he stared directly into Chen Mu's eyes.

"That intelligence… it's from Profound Yin Valley."

Chen Mu's face showed no sign of surprise.

Cheng Jian watched his reaction, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.

Relief, gratitude, and a hint of guilt he couldn't even explain to himself.

"Shopkeeper Duan, you… you already knew, didn't you?"

"I guessed," Chen Mu said calmly, "I'm no righteous sect member. Your faction's struggles mean nothing to me."

Cheng Jian smiled bitterly.

"I thought I'd hidden it well…"

He exhaled, as if shedding a heavy burden.

"Shopkeeper Duan, to be honest, I'm an outer-disciple of Profound Yin Valley. I've been in for seven years, always tasked with hunting strange beasts and gathering materials in the mountains. Eight out of ten items sold by rogue cultivators on the black market come from people like me, smuggling them out. The valley's rules are strict, but they can't control the tongues of their underlings—or their hands."

Chen Mu nodded, saying nothing.

Cheng Jian continued, "This intelligence concerns the valley's recent movements. I can't reveal too many details, but I can tell you this: it's valuable because someone is willing to pay a high price for it."

"Who?"

Cheng Jian hesitated, then spoke, "The buyer is from the Xiao family."

Chen Mu's heart stirred.

Xiao family.

One of the centuries-old martial clans of Hanbei Province, intermarried for generations with the Pei family, bound by shared interests, a pivotal righteous force beneath the Dragon-Tiger Sword Sect.

For the Xiao family to buy intelligence from Profound Yin Valley was understandable.

Under the backdrop of the righteous-evil war, it was only natural for the Xiao family to uncover Profound Yin Valley's secrets.

"If it's the Xiao family who wants it,"

Chen Mu said, "why not buy it directly from someone inside the valley? Why go through you, an outer-disciple?"

Cheng Jian smiled bitterly, "Because what I have isn't ordinary 'valley movements.'"

He lowered his voice, nearly whispering, "It's… about the Grand Elder."

Hu Nianjing!

Chen Mu's face remained calm, but his heart leapt with joy.

Finally, it came!

"That intelligence," Chen Mu asked, "what does it involve about Grand Elder Hu?"

Cheng Jian shook his head, "I don't know the details."

Hearing this, Chen Mu nodded again, "You want me to receive that intelligence for you, and then deliver it for you?"

Cheng Jian nodded.

"I've met the buyer's man once. They recognize me, but I don't recognize them. Every meeting happens at night; they wear masks, so I can't see their faces. I always feel uneasy—what if…"

What if they double-crossed him? A lowly outer-disciple like him would die without even knowing how.

"You're different."

Cheng Jian looked at Chen Mu, his eyes carrying a complex dependence, "You've run your shop on the black market for half a year. Everyone knows Shopkeeper Duan is honest and upright, never causing trouble. If you handle this, no one will suspect. And…"

He paused.

"And I trust you."

Chen Mu fell silent for a moment.

Then he smiled.

"Brother Cheng, your trust in me is my honor."

He stood, stepped before Cheng Jian, and patted his shoulder.

"I'll take this job."

Cheng Jian beamed, about to thank him, but Chen Mu waved him off.

"Don't thank me yet," Chen Mu said, raising a hand, "I have a condition."

"You say!"

"Once the information reaches me, I need to take a look," Chen Mu said calmly.

Cheng Jian's expression changed, "This…"

"Don't worry—I won't leak it," Chen Mu said quietly. "I'm just being cautious. If something goes wrong, I need to know what it is—and where to run."

Cheng Jian hesitated, then nodded.

"Fine."

He stood up and bowed deeply to Chen Mu.

"Shopkeeper, your kindness is beyond words. Should you ever need anything from Cheng Jian, just say the word—I'll walk through fire and mountains without flinching!"

Chen Mu smiled and helped him up.

"No need for fire and mountains. Just stay away from the gambling dens—that's better than anything."

Cheng Jian's face flushed red, and he chuckled awkwardly.

"I'll quit. I swear I will."

…

Three days later, deep night.

Chen Mu's shop had long closed; the shutters were firmly barred, and only a dim yellow oil lamp glowed behind the counter.

He sat beneath the lamp, holding a ledger, flipping through it idly.

Three faint knocks came at the door.

——Thump, thump-thump.

Cheng Jian's agreed signal.

Chen Mu rose and unlatched the door.

Cheng Jian slipped inside. His face was even more tense than three days prior, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest bulging with something hidden.

"Where's it?" Chen Mu asked.

Cheng Jian pulled from his chest a flat object, palm-sized, wrapped in layers of oil paper, and handed it to Chen Mu with both hands.

"The upstream contact gave it to me personally. He said this is the original—the buyer wants only this. Absolutely do not open it, do not wet it, do not expose it to fire."

Chen Mu took it, weighed it in his hand.

Very light.

Like a letter, or a few sheets of paper.

"Did you look at it?"

Cheng Jian shook his head. "Didn't dare."

Chen Mu nodded and placed the oil-paper bundle on the counter.

He did not open it immediately, but stared at Cheng Jian.

"When will the contact come to retrieve it?"

"Tomorrow, at Hai Shi," Cheng Jian said. "At the Chengnan Earth God Temple, behind the altar—just slip it in and leave."

Chen Mu fell silent for a moment.

"Fine. I'll deliver it tomorrow night."

Cheng Jian exhaled in relief, gave a few more warnings, then hurried away.

The shop door shut again.

Chen Mu returned behind the counter, picked up the oil-paper bundle, weighed it again.

Then he gently tore open one corner of the oil paper—inside was a letter.

With a thought, he extended his divine sense.

Instantly, his divine sense flowed like a gentle stream, silently seeping through layer upon layer of oil paper.

Chen Mu closed his eyes, sensing the texture of the paper, the depth of the ink, and… that faint, almost imperceptible trace of scent.

Spice.

Indeed, both the oil paper and the letter had been infused with an extremely minute amount of spice.

The fragrance was so faint it was nearly undetectable; had he not deliberately probed with his divine sense, he would never have noticed.

And conveniently, he happened to have this exact spice.

It was ground "Cold Smoke Herb," common in the Hanbei Road region—available on the black market for next to nothing, but with one trait: its scent was nearly invisible, yet it clung stubbornly, lingering for days after contact.

It was for tracking.

Or rather, to confirm whether this letter had been opened.

Chen Mu's lips curled slightly.

Vigilance was good—but the effort was shallow. If they'd used something more subtle, it would've been far harder to detect.

Without hesitation, Chen Mu gripped the bundle tightly—

Rip.

The oil paper tore fully open, revealing the letter inside. Unfolded, his gaze swept over the few brief lines.

Not Hu Nianjing's secret. Not any intelligence that would give the Xiao family a decisive advantage.

But—

"Rotational Duty Schedule for the Outer Perimeter of the Xuanbing Cave."

Chen Mu's pupils contracted slightly.

He continued reading.

The letter detailed the three-month rotational duty roster for the Xuanbing Cave, a forbidden zone within the Xuan Yin Valley.

Who was on duty which days, which days had double posts, which days had single posts, which days had elders patrol… dense and exhaustive.

Anyone else seeing this letter would be utterly baffled.

What is the Ice Abyss? What is this duty roster? How could this be worth ten thousand taels?

But Chen Mu knew.

Through Gu Yanchao's memories, he understood the inner workings of Yin Yin Valley completely.

The Ice Abyss.

The forbidden zone at the deepest part of Yin Yin Valley, where the Twelve Palace Pearls were stored!

That place lay deep within the valley's rear mountains, perpetually frozen, with temperatures so low that ordinary Innate Realm disciples would be turned to ice statues within a single tea's time.

The cavern's seals were layered one upon another; the door at its core required two keys opened simultaneously.

One key was held by the valley lord, Li Yuan; the other by the senior elder, Hu Nianjing.

Though both were Tiangong Realm experts and of the same faction, they had been at odds for years.

Any movement required the other's approval.

If Li Yuan wished to enter, Hu Nianjing might refuse; if Hu Nianjing wished to enter, Li Yuan would certainly block him.

Thus, though the Twelve Palace Pearls had been stored in the valley for centuries, their mutual feud had prevented either from ever using them alone.

This letter was the duty roster.

But the last line of the letter also bore another message.

"On the fifteenth of every month, the valley lord enters seclusion for three days. The Xuanming Pearl is held in trust by Elder Hu."

Chen Mu's breath paused.

Xuanming Pearl.

It was the energy source at the core of the Ice Abyss's seals, requiring Li Yuan's blood to sustain its operation. During Li Yuan's seclusion, the Xuanming Pearl was held in trust by Hu Nianjing.

For those three days, the Ice Abyss's seals would enter a delicate state of "pearl present, master absent."

Hu Nianjing.

Again, Hu Nianjing.

This woman was indeed the key!

Chen Mu looked down at the thin sheet of paper in his hand.

His thoughts spun rapidly.

Soon, Chen Mu had a better idea.

Immediately, he rewrapped the original in another sheet of oil paper, then took a small porcelain bottle from beneath the counter, opened it—inside was the cold smoke herb powder he had long prepared.

With extreme care, he evenly sprinkled the powder onto the new oil paper, gently pressing it so the fragrance seeped into the surface.

The quantity, concentration, and adhesion time—all calculated perfectly.

Everything done, Chen Mu stood, pushed open the shop door.

Outside was deep night; the black market alley was empty, save for distant murmurs of drunken men and the barking of stray dogs.

He did not return to the backyard to rest.

Chen Mu left the black market, crossed the silent streets of the state capital, and arrived at a secluded corner beneath the city wall.

His form flickered; within a few breaths, he scaled the wall, moving like a night bird, silently slipping beyond the city.

…

An hour later, Chen Mu was a hundred li away.

It was a desolate valley, with steep cliffs on either side and a winding stream flowing through the center.

Moonlight spilled upon the stream, shimmering with silver ripples.

Chen Mu stopped beneath an ancient pine.

Using qi as his guide, he carved a highly concealed mark upon a green stone beneath the pine—only Gu Yanchao and Hu Nianjing would recognize it.

This was their agreement.

If they wished to meet in secret, they would leave this mark here.

After carving it, Chen Mu rose and glanced at the mark.

He thought a moment, then added another phrase beside it—a phrase only Hu Nianjing knew, one Gu Yanchao had once told her.

Having done all this, Chen Mu turned and vanished into the night.

…

At dawn.

Chen Mu arrived at the Dao City of Hanbei Dao.

He took out his bow and arrow, tying a letter to the arrowhead.

Then he stood atop a tall building, infusing his qi, aiming in one direction.

The arrow shot forth like lightning.

Whoosh!

The arrow pierced the air, leaving a trail, striking the first courtyard gate inside the Long Hu Sword Sect's outpost in the Dao City.

Pfft!

The arrow struck its target precisely, firmly embedded above the entrance plaque.

The arrow's feathers vibrated, causing several duty disciples in the courtyard to look up in unison.

"Who's there!"

"Chase him!"

"Look—what's that thing!"

「……」

Several figures darted out of the courtyard, but saw only an empty street and the gradually brightening sky.

Those left behind saw the arrow embedded in the plaque.

The stationed official rushed over upon hearing the news, removed the arrow-letter, opened it, and glanced at it.

Then his expression changed.

The letter contained only one sentence:

「The Moon and Sun Mo Sect has bound the Canglong, and will meet secretly with Hu Nianjing at Yingchun Gorge on the fifteenth of this month. 」

The official's hand trembled slightly as he held the letter.

He certainly knew who the Canglong was—the leader of the Mo Sect's Hanbei Branch, a peak late Heavenly Palace realm powerhouse, a wily old fox the Townsuppress Command had pursued for ten years without ever capturing.

He also knew who Hu Nianjing was—the senior elder of the Xuan Yin Valley, a mid-stage Heavenly Palace realm cultivator, a pivotal figure among the demonic path.

These two meeting in secret?

If the information was true…

The official did not dare delay; he spun around and sprinted toward the inner courtyard.

……

In Chengnan, Xingzhou, the Earth God Temple.

In the back hall, beneath the altar.

Chen Mu returned and gently slipped the newly wrapped oil-paper parcel into place, confirmed its position matched exactly Cheng Jian's description, then stepped back several paces and vanished into the night.

But he did not go far.

Instead, he found a hidden corner in a narrow alley opposite the temple, crouched down, suppressed his aura, and silently watched toward the back hall.

One hour passed.

Two hours passed.

The Hai hour had ended; the Zi hour arrived.

A dark shadow silently slipped out from behind the temple.

The figure wore a masked face and night-robes, his build lean and wiry, movements agile. He slipped into the back hall, felt around beneath the altar for a moment, retrieved the oil-paper parcel, and swiftly stuffed it into his bosom.

Then he turned and darted off in another direction.

Chen Mu did not move.

He remained crouched in the alley corner, silently watching the dark shadow vanish into the night.

Only after confirming the man was truly far away did he stand, brush the dust from his robes, and turn toward the black market.