It was not an eye-catching result. If it had been Hua Biefeng, even at his best, he could not have achieved much better.

His victory seemed like a lucky coincidence.

Who would have thought, as he bowed humbly, preparing to leave the stage after his defeat, a lazy voice spoke from behind the thin gauze curtain of Fengling's upper seat: "The Daoist surnamed Hua, wait a moment."

Everyone knew who sat behind that gauze curtain, and Sang Luojiu was no exception.

He prostrated on the ground: "Lord Yunzhong."

A hand emerged from behind the curtain, the index finger slowly beckoning towards Sang Luojiu: "You, come here."

The crowd was in an uproar.

No one knew why Lord Yunzhong, Feng Rugu, would favor a child who could only obtain eighth place on the Heavenly Rankings. Even Sang Luojiu himself was stunned, momentarily unsure whether to advance or retreat.

But his reaction was far quicker than others. After a brief daze, he swiftly rose to his feet, head lowered as he ascended the jade steps, arriving before the gauze curtain.

The gauze curtain was lifted from within.

A refreshing scent of bamboo wafted out first, and Sang Luojiu detected a faint fragrance of corydalis, but he feigned ignorance, keeping his head lowered in silence.

The languid voice from within softly asked: "Hey, in your opinion, what makes the best assassin?"

Even Sang Luojiu was momentarily at a loss for words at this abrupt question: "This one... Hua Bieyun... This one believes the best assassin need not have top-notch martial arts, but must possess first-class adaptability and quick-wittedness."

Regarding his answer, Lord Yunzhong neither affirmed nor denied, only observing him for a moment amidst the swirling bamboo mist.

Then, in a low voice that only the two of them could hear, he spoke slowly.

"The best assassin is an unknown assassin." Feng Rugu said, "With each person he kills, others think that person died by accident."

It was on that afternoon that the fifteen-year-old Sang Luojiu experienced the sensation of his blood running cold for the first time in his life.

And what made his body break out in a cold sweat was what Feng Rugu said next.

Illogical, yet stated as if it were obvious.

"...Want to become my disciple? The kind that attends to my daily needs."

The matter was settled right then and there. Sang Luojiu immediately gained the right to enter the curtain to light Feng Rugu's pipe. It happened so fast, like child's play, so fast that Sang Luojiu felt he was dreaming, so fast that he forgot his manners, not bothering to watch the subsequent matches, asking Feng Rugu: "May I ask, Lord Yunzhong, why take this one as your disciple?"

Why take an illegitimate child as a disciple?

Why take a swordsman whose performance was merely average as a disciple?

Feng Rugu held a jade wine flask in one hand, the rich aroma of mulberry wine wafting from within: "From what age did you start accompanying your younger brother in sword practice?"

Sang Luojiu thought for a moment and replied: "Seven years old."

"Mm, seven years old." Feng Rugu said, "You knew about the flaws in his swordsmanship early on, but he had no idea about yours... His path of the sword is quite arrogant, clearly never taking you seriously."

With that, Feng Rugu looked up at him, casually reaching his conclusion: "You deceived him for eight years."

Sang Luojiu remained expressionless: "Lord Yunzhong thinks too highly of me. My swordsmanship and my second brother's are neck and neck."

"Is that so?" Feng Rugu said, "Every strike you made in the subsequent matches was very restrained, calculated to perfection, all to maintain this 'neck and neck' facade. You wanted him to think you posed no threat, so that after returning to Feihua Sect, he would continue to let his guard down around you, right?"

Unknowingly, beads of sweat had formed on Sang Luojiu's forehead: "Lord Yunzhong..."

"You desire to make a name for yourself so much, so I'm giving you a chance to do just that. Isn't that what you've longed for all these years?" Feng Rugu drank his wine leisurely. "This is also what you've sought in your heart, isn't it?"

"...Lord Yunzhong, this one does not understand."

"I've heard quite a bit about the changes in Feihua Sect these past years, very interesting. Even more interesting is that these all occurred after an illegitimate child joined the sect."

"It's just a coincidence."

"Of course it's a coincidence, just like the carefully calculated coincidences I witnessed earlier."

At this point, the numbing fear on Sang Luojiu's back had subsided.

He was a unique child, always able to quickly compose himself in the face of danger.

He calmed his heart and asked: "Since Lord Yunzhong knows what kind of person I am, why take me as a disciple and invite trouble?"

"Trouble? You?" Feng Rugu repeated his choice of words, "To me, you don't count as any trouble."

Sang Luojiu knew he was clearly being looked down upon.

But the fact that Feng Rugu could see through his facade with one glance was enough for him to willingly submit to him.

Feng Rugu said lazily: "Don't talk about trouble or no trouble. You and I becoming master and disciple is actually mutually beneficial: With you as my disciple, no one will dare mention your background to your face. You can leave that filthy whirlpool and let your second and third brothers fight it out. Your third brother Hua Bieshuang was personally cultivated by you, excelling in both literary and martial arts, valuing loyalty and righteousness, far superior to your impulsive and reckless second brother. When the time comes, even if your father steps down, he will likely pass the position to your third brother. And your third brother, having been raised by you since childhood, shares an extraordinary bond with you. Feihua Sect will essentially still fall into your hands. How about it, am I right?"

Although he had guessed Feng Rugu had some understanding of his family matters, hearing him lay out his scheme so effortlessly, Sang Luojiu couldn't help but feel his throat tighten: "Lord Yunzhong... had long understood this one's situation. Then this one won't be evasive: I indeed require Lord Yunzhong's assistance. But what does Lord Yunzhong need me for?"

"In my 'Still Water Runs Deep' there is a foolish disciple whose mind isn't very bright and needs..." Feng Rugu extended his index and middle fingers, making a rabbit ear gesture, lightly tapping them together, "Balancing out... Oh right, he went down the mountain to eliminate demons, so you may not meet him for a few days."

Sang Luojiu: "..." That's it?

It seemed Feng Rugu really had no other requests.

He leaned back on the couch, assuming a conversational posture, turning to the side to speak with Sang Luojiu: "Have you ever thought about how you would manage things if you took over Feihua Sect in the future?"

"I haven't thought about it." Sang Luojiu's voice was gentle and soft, "Perhaps I would make it flourish, or perhaps burn it to the ground."

Feng Rugu laughed heartily, crossed his legs, and showed not the slightest hint of offense.

Sang Luojiu pondered, this notorious figure in the martial arts world truly lived up to his reputation. Perhaps there was no need to conceal anything in front of him.

Feng Rugu, not caring about the intricate thoughts swirling in Sang Luojiu's mind, took another sip of wine and gazed at the glistening mouth of the jade pot. He casually said, "From today onwards, you shall be called Sang Luojiu. Sang as in mulberry, Luo as in falling, Jiu meaning long-lasting."

...

Sang Luojiu awoke from his contemplation and repeated, "...It is indeed an unremarkable story."

"I just can't understand," Luo Fuchun continued, "Master is so lazy and has never taught us even a bit of swordsmanship. How can you be so loyal to him? You listen to him and let him do as he pleases, always considering what he would do and going along with his intentions. You're simply spoiling him more and more."

Sang Luojiu earnestly pondered this question.

Over the past decade, he had worn a smiling mask and silently turned everything around him upside down.

But he was very lonely.

In front of his mother, he was the son she hoped he would be—the best child in the world.

Until that hand reached out from the thin, translucent curtain, lazily beckoning.

Sang Luojiu grinned, his warm and radiant smile appearing utterly innocent and refined, like a child without any defenses. "Perhaps it's because... Master understands me."

Author's Note:

This is Luojiu's special chapter, but as it is closely related to the main storyline, I will elaborate on it. √

This is your Sang Luojiu, a master of manipulation, a gorgeous and cultured schemer, who has now turned over a new leaf.