Chapter Forty: Reunion with Zhao Hu (Part Two)

With a sharp snap, the silver whip that had just pressed against the young man in green’s neck recoiled, leaving only a faint line of blood on his skin. Ji Mo held the whip’s tip lightly between her fingers, her expression half-smiling yet cold, her gaze icy as she spoke, “Talk.”

“Yes…” The young man in green had barely uttered the word when his eyes suddenly bulged, and he slumped limply to the ground.

Ji Mo’s eyes narrowed as she bent down to check for breath at his nose, only to find that he was already lifeless. Her face darkened instantly, a shadow of menace appearing between her brows. At first, she hadn’t thought much of the matter—at most, she’d assumed Zhao Hu had offended someone among the outer disciples, and that person, with an acquaintance in the inner sect, had arranged for trouble in the trial grounds. But now, it was clear things were far from so simple.

“Ji Shimei, he—he’s dead?” Wei Qiu, standing beside her, stared wide-eyed at the young man in green.

“Yes, he’s dead. Brother Zhao Hu, what brought you to Red Leaf Valley?” Ji Mo replied to Wei Qiu, then turned her attention to Zhao Hu, her tone tinged with curiosity. Though the trial grounds did not forbid outer disciples from entering, it was rare for body cultivators of the acquired stage to venture into Red Leaf Valley. Despite its abundant treasures, not just anyone could claim them.

“I didn’t even know this was Red Leaf Valley. I ended up here after encountering a beast on a mountain. I couldn’t defeat it, so I kept running, but it wouldn’t let me go and chased me all the way here. Once I entered the valley, the beast stopped pursuing me, but I then ran into him. Without a word, he tried to kill me. I barely held my own for a dozen rounds, but I was no match for him. If you hadn’t arrived just in time, Mo, I’d probably be dead by now.” Zhao Hu pointed to the corpse of the young man in green.

Ji Mo frowned. The whole situation sounded as if it had been orchestrated, but Zhao Hu was just an outer sect body cultivator—who would go to such lengths for him? With this in mind, Ji Mo asked, “Brother Zhao, have you made any enemies in the outer court?”

“Enemies? Well, I’ve had minor run-ins with a few, but nothing serious, no real grudges. Mo, are you suggesting someone specifically hired him to deal with me? That seems unlikely. Also, with him dead here, won’t this cause you trouble?” Zhao Hu, no fool, quickly grasped the implications of Ji Mo’s words. Looking at the dead man, he couldn’t help but worry for her.

“It won’t. He was silenced. As long as the people behind him want to hide their identity, they’ll never pin his death on us.” Ji Mo shook her head, unconcerned.

Zhao Hu paused, then relaxed. Mo had always been much cleverer than he since childhood, and in all these years, she’d only grown more formidable. She had just forced a man capable of killing him with a wave of the hand into being silenced by another. The once-silly little girl who’d been lost for three years had become someone he could only look up to. Since she said there would be no trouble, he trusted her.

“Brother Zhao, let me introduce you. This is Senior Brother Wei Qiu of our Thunder Sect. Senior Brother, Zhao Hu is my elder brother.” With the matter settled, Ji Mo introduced the two to each other.

“Greetings, Senior Brother Wei.” Hearing that Wei Qiu was Ji Mo’s senior and an inner disciple, Zhao Hu stepped forward and bowed, neither servile nor arrogant. With the blood cleaned from his face, his strong brows and large eyes revealed a youth who had grown from a simple boy to a striking young man in the span of six years.

“No need for that. I’m sixteen, born in October. And you, Brother Zhao?” Wei Qiu waved his hands quickly.

“I’m sixteen as well, born in July,” Zhao Hu replied, surprised.

“Ah, so you’re three months my senior. Ji Shimei only calls me ‘senior’ because she’s two years younger than I am, but in truth, the three of me couldn’t match her in skill. Since you’re her elder brother and older than I, why not become sworn brothers with me, if you don’t mind?” Wei Qiu’s eyes sparkled with a smile.

Wei Qiu’s offer of friendship wasn’t just because Zhao Hu was Ji Mo’s brother. From the moment he’d met him, he’d felt an inexplicable affinity, a strange, unaccountable sense of kinship. And being a man of spontaneity, Wei Qiu saw no reason not to follow his instincts.

Zhao Hu was momentarily stunned. Weren’t inner disciples all famously proud? As Ji Mo’s senior, Wei Qiu’s position in the sect must be significant. Why was he being so friendly? After six years in the outer court, Zhao Hu was no longer the naive child he once was. He knew full well that inner disciples usually looked down on body cultivators like him.

“Brother Zhao, since Senior Wei has said so, just accept him as your brother,” Ji Mo said with a smile, glancing between the two.

“Very well, I’ll be bold. If you don’t mind, Brother Wei, I’d be honored to become your sworn brother.” Seeing that Ji Mo was unconcerned, Zhao Hu readily agreed.

“Haha, splendid! I’ve been in the sect six years myself and made few true friends. To have a brother like you today is a joy indeed. Pity we’re in the trial grounds, or we could find a place to share a drink!” Wei Qiu laughed heartily, striding over to clap Zhao Hu’s shoulder, his cheerfulness infectious.

“Enough laughing. Red Leaf Valley is unlike other places—who knows how many unknown dangers lurk here. Aren’t you afraid your loud laughter will attract some fierce beast?” Ji Mo interrupted, half exasperated. She found herself unable to see through this seemingly guileless youth; whether his warmth was genuine or had some hidden motive, she couldn’t tell.

Still, she didn’t dwell on it. For now, Wei Qiu seemed a good friend. What would come in the future, let it come. None of them mentioned the green-robed youth again. Soon, they left the hollow and headed toward Blue Moon Lake. As they walked, Ji Mo asked, “Brother Zhao, how have you been these years in the outer court?”

“I’ve done well enough. But you, Mo, you’ve suffered more,” Zhao Hu replied, his gaze complicated.

Six years ago, Ji Mo had become famous after being accepted as the sect master’s personal disciple with only one trial completed. Yet after entering the sect, she’d spent five months unable to draw qi into her body, again becoming the subject of much attention—two extremes that thrust her into the eye of the storm. Even Zhao Hu, a mere body cultivator in the outer court, had heard plenty about it. Many knew he and Ji Mo hailed from the same village, and he’d endured no small amount of ridicule because of it. If he had suffered thus, Ji Mo herself must have suffered far more.

“I truly haven’t suffered much. Even those five months when I couldn’t draw qi, I had Master and my senior brothers and sisters protecting me. Those who disliked me at most sneered and mocked me in their hearts, but none ever dared do anything to me openly.” Ji Mo’s smile was playful.