Clothes, Bonus, Indoor Fight

Xiao Qin took out a letter, its material identical to the one previously found on the Three Evils of Huai Mountain.

Similarly, it had already been deciphered by Zuo Qiuyang.

"Dear brothers, three days apart should open one's eyes anew."

"Recently, you’ve made quite a name for yourselves in the Endless Trials. The Judge is very pleased, especially with Dragon Evil."

"The Judge himself praised him as a born killer."

The tone of the letter had grown much more amiable. After just a few days apart, they were now being called "brothers."

A born killer?

Xiao Qin shot a surprised glance at Li Mo.

What unspeakable atrocities had Junior Brother Li committed to earn such high praise from the Judge of the Fine Rain Tower?

Truly, there seemed to be nothing Li Mo couldn’t excel at.

"Ahem, let’s keep reading."

Truth be told, even Li Mo was baffled. What had he even done?

All he’d done was casually beat a few people to death and dispose of the bodies—nothing out of the ordinary.

"Given your strength, passing the Endless Trials should be effortless."

"Once the trials conclude, please come to Ling River Dock for a meeting."

"The Judge has entrusted me with an important matter. I fought hard to secure your involvement so soon after joining the tower. When you rise to prominence, don’t forget about me."

The letter ended there.

Li Mo and Xiao Qin exchanged glances.

They were already being assigned tower affairs.

Did this mean...

They’d been fast-tracked?

"Judging by Smiling Arhat’s tone, the Judge holds a higher position in the Fine Rain Tower than he does."

Xiao Qin was quite certain.

Actually, it was Thousand Forms Martial Venerable who had told him.

The Judge of the Fine Rain Tower was responsible for determining whether assassins had completed their missions—a guarantor of the tower’s reputation.

"The Judge’s private matter... What could it be?"

"We’ve never met this so-called Judge, but it’s definitely nothing good."

Young Li pondered for a moment, sensing something fishy.

A bunch of assassins wouldn’t exactly form a charity group to help old ladies cross the street, would they?

Reading Smiling Arhat’s request for a meeting, Li Mo said:

"We’ll stick to the original plan."

"When we meet Smiling Arhat, we’ll eliminate him first. Otherwise, we risk exposure at any moment."

"After all, we’ve already been chosen to work for the Judge. We’ll have a chance to meet him eventually."

"Agreed."

Xiao Qin nodded and climbed back onto the donkey cart, ready to return and share the good news with Zuo Qiuyang.

The cart was loaded with cooking oil—a daily necessity for the hotpot restaurant.

Afternoon.

Happy times were always fleeting.

[Congratulations, Host. You have invested in a low-tier martial art for "Da Zhu."]

[Investment return: One year of martial insight.]

[Congratulations, Host. You have invested in a low-tier martial art for "Little Die."]

[Investment return: One year of martial insight.]

......

The little ones reluctantly came out to see them off.

They had just begun learning martial arts.

Li Mo hadn’t given them anything too advanced—these low-tier techniques were enough to build a foundation for now.

His gaze swept over them, and a question arose:

"Where’s that girl Chu Long?"

He’d found it odd earlier in the afternoon.

Chu Long had timidly called out to him, only to hesitate and say nothing was wrong.

"Big Brother Li... I... I’m here."

Suddenly, Jiang Chulong came running over, clutching a cloth bundle in her arms.

"This... this is for you."

She shoved the bundle into his hands.

Li Mo glanced down—inside was a clumsily made... garment?

The fabric was high-quality, embroidered with a sword, and...

Why did the material look familiar?

"You’ve been scavenging to save up for this?"

"Mm-hmm..."

"But I’m... too clumsy... wasted a lot of fabric..."

"Not... entirely wasted... I made sachets from the scraps..."

Jiang Chulong’s voice was barely audible.

Ah, so that explained it.

The sachet the Martial Venerable received was a byproduct of her failed attempts.

Li Mo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But then he noticed something off.

"With all the things you’ve scavenged, you only got enough for fabric?"

"Yeah... junk... isn’t worth much..."

"This... this one only sells for... ten coppers."

She pointed at a piece of "scrap metal" nearby.

Li Mo took a closer look, and his eye twitched.

Unless he was mistaken, that was a reforged steel axe—not new, but easily worth thirty taels of silver at any blacksmith’s shop.

Ten coppers? What a rip-off! Did those shopkeepers have no conscience?!

"Chu Long."

"Yes?"

"Tell me which shop’s been buying your stuff. I need to have a word with them."

"Big Brother Li... are you... selling scrap too?"

......

Ling River Dock.

Countless boats of all sizes lined the shore, the sound of lapping waves mingling with fishermen’s songs.

Amid the river’s currents, a black-canopied boat rocked gently.

"Li Mo and Ying Bing have finally appeared in the prefecture city?!"

Yin Huacheng crushed the paper in his palm, letting the fragments vanish into the river.

The waters of Ziyang Prefecture City had been muddied by the Endless Trials.

Rumors spoke of the Three Evils of Huai Mountain—appearing and vanishing without a trace, ruthless in their killings, like three deities of slaughter that even the most vicious participants feared.

Because of them, the Endless Trials seemed on the verge of ending prematurely.

This storm would soon pass.

The window of opportunity was fleeting.

Suddenly, Yin Huacheng’s ears twitched. He called out:

"You’re here."

"To serve as the Summoning Demon Sect’s envoy, you must have some skill."

A figure with a smiling Buddha’s head pushed aside the boat’s curtain and entered.

"You’re the one Judge Cui sent to handle the business?"

"Indeed."

Smiling Arhat spoke, his voice carrying an eerie resonance—like Buddhist chants that cleansed the soul, severing desires and making death seem inconsequential, even welcome...

"Turning Buddhist arts into something so sinister... Hah."

"Interesting. Have a seat."

Yin Huacheng poured him tea, acknowledging his strength.

"The sea of suffering is boundless. I merely guide others to transcend it and ascend to paradise."

Smiling Arhat nodded and sat.

Yin Huacheng cut to the chase:

"How goes the task?"

"One last batch of ‘goods,’ and we can set sail under the Crimson Whale Gang’s banner. Smooth passage guaranteed."

"When will the goods arrive?"

"When the sub-tower master arrives, so will the goods. They’ll be dispatched during the Inner Realm clash."

Smiling Arhat spoke calmly.

"Inner Realm clash..."

Yin Huacheng sipped his tea, savoring the implications.

"By the way, how much to hire you to kill an Inner Breath Realm cultivator and bring me all his belongings?"

"The Dark Tower has fixed rates. You may post a bounty."

"How much for you to personally take the job?" Yin Huacheng pressed.

Better safe than sorry.

With the Fine Rain Tower’s branch not yet fully established, finding reliable assassins wasn’t easy.

"My services depend on fate."

Smiling Arhat remained impassive.

"One Mystic Crystal."

Yin Huacheng gritted his teeth.

"The one you want me to kill is Li Mo, a true disciple of the Qingyuan Sect?"

Smiling Arhat did not agree immediately. Instead, he posed a question.

The unspoken implication: A single Mystic Crystal isn’t even worth the value of that Mystic Weapon, and on top of that, I’d incur the wrath of the Qingyuan Sect. Do you take me for a fool?

"Years ago, I came across this by chance."

Yin Huacheng’s expression shifted as he produced another item.

A scroll depicting a Buddha.

Though it was a Buddha, it sat upon a black lotus. Its compassionate, sorrowful gaze carried an eerie undertone, for beneath the lotus seat lay a river of blood and the corpses of countless beings.

Clearly, this was a visualization diagram for some martial art.

Smiling Arhat’s breathing grew noticeably heavier.

After a long silence, he spoke slowly:

"The fates have aligned."