Chapter Four: The Mole

After parting ways with Old Six, Mo Bai wandered through the night air above Cloud’s Rest Town, suddenly sensing a faint spiritual energy locking onto him. Though weak, this energy carried a sharp, imposing aura. Mo Bai’s heart leapt—why had so many masters come to this small town? Was this person also here for the fish? Could this be the true culprit behind the crimes? Following his instincts, Mo Bai shot forth at a speed that had reached a new peak, far beyond what he’d shown when facing Shun Qing and Blood Vengeance earlier that day.

As the spiritual energy abruptly contracted, the other party clearly sensed Mo Bai’s pursuit and began a rapid retreat. One chased, one fled; above the clouds, they played a game of cat and mouse, but with each moment, Mo Bai was closing the gap. Gauging the distance, Mo Bai suddenly raised his left hand, conjuring a transparent whirlwind in his palm, and hurled it toward the fleeing figure. Caught off guard, the man had not anticipated such power, and had no choice but to turn and defend. He summoned a wall of blue light with both hands, erecting it before him. In an instant, whirlwind met barrier, and both men heard a subtle cracking and bursting sound—though none else would be able to hear it.

With a shout, the man broke free of the whirlwind’s force, then laid out three more barriers, resisting Mo Bai’s offensive. Hovering in midair, Mo Bai observed: the stranger’s spiritual energy was of a peculiar sort, not belonging to any of the five great spiritual cultivation sects, and he only defended without counterattack—clearly not the true culprit. Then who was he, and why was he watching Mo Bai?

Seeing Mo Bai cease his assault, the mysterious figure gave a cold smile. “Young friend, I mean no harm. You should be able to tell from my stance. Even if we were to fight, the outcome would be uncertain.”

Mo Bai shook his head. “If you hadn’t locked onto me, I wouldn’t have chased you.”

The man replied calmly, “Your Spirit Leap technique is remarkable. I doubt there are many on the Linglong Continent who could match your speed.”

Mo Bai smiled openly. “You flatter me. Linglong Continent is full of extraordinary talents, countless masters. My abilities are still shallow.”

The man chuckled. “You’re too modest. Until next time, I wonder when I’ll have the pleasure of testing Spirit Leap against you again.” Clearly, he had abandoned the idea of continuing his surveillance.

Mo Bai replied, “Anytime,” cupping his hands in farewell as the man departed.

At the precise moment the stranger left, the three blue light barriers he had set up collapsed with a crash, vanishing on the wind without a trace.

Mo Bai gazed up at the sky and said quietly, “What a night—though from now on, perhaps I’ll never again sleep as soundly.”

Outside the town, a black carriage rested by the roadside. A shadow streaked through the night and landed before the carriage, breathing heavily. From within came a man’s voice: “Black Tiger, your spiritual energy is scattered. Is there truly a master in Cloud’s Rest Town?”

Black Tiger answered in a low voice, “The words of the Nine Bodhisattvas are always accurate—otherwise the sect master wouldn’t have come to this remote town himself. I did indeed find a spiritual cultivator; his abilities are on par with mine.”

From inside the carriage, the sect master exhaled. “How old is he?”

Black Tiger replied, “Very young.”

The sect master was silent for a while, then said with a hint of unease, “It seems you’re no longer fit to keep him in check. Let him be for now. Perhaps the time is not yet ripe. Let’s go.”

“Yes, Master,” Black Tiger replied. He never asked questions—his only task was to follow orders.

With a creak, the carriage began to move, turning faster and faster until, at the last moment, it soared into the sky.

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Breakfast was the town’s famous fried dough sticks, crispy beyond compare, paired with a bowl of freshly made, golden soy milk, a combination one could hardly resist. Mo Bai was not the only one with a hearty appetite; he soon noticed another man enjoying his meal. This fellow dipped the dough into the soy milk, soaking it thoroughly before taking a bite—creating a unique flavor all its own.

Mo Bai recognized this “old acquaintance”—the man known as Mole among the three constables. As Mole bit into the dough, his sharp teeth showed. Mo Bai moved closer and said with a smile, “Brother Mole, did you sleep well last night?”

Mole, startled, nearly spat out his soy milk. He looked nervously at Mo Bai and stammered, “No, no, I didn’t.”

Mo Bai eyed the spilled soy milk. “What a waste. Shall I buy you another bowl?”

Mole was flustered, unsure how to respond.

With a mischievous grin, Mo Bai said, “Or maybe we should try something else. I hear there’s a place to the north that serves excellent braised pork intestines.”

Mole grimaced, “Boss, please have mercy. I know I’m no match for you. If anyone’s to arrest you, it’ll be Brother Blood Vengeance. Ever since I met you, I haven’t even dared to breathe too loudly.”

Mo Bai laughed. “I can let you go, but I need something from you.” His gaze swept over Mole.

Mole shivered as if a devil had set his sights on him, clutching his coin pouch in terror.

Mo Bai burst out laughing. “What are you afraid of? I’m not going to rob you.”

Mole muttered, “You never know.”

Mo Bai was taken aback—he hadn’t expected that, in addition to resembling the true culprit, he also looked like a thief. Rubbing the scar on his left eyebrow, he suddenly thought of something and said, “I don’t want your money. I just want to ask you a few questions. If you answer honestly, I’ll even pay you.”

At the mention of payment, Mole’s eyes lit up, all traces of his constable persona gone. “Ask away, ask away.”

Mo Bai knew it was time. “Tell me, how many assault cases have there been in town? What kind of backgrounds did the victims have?”

Mole’s face twisted in misery. “Boss, why ask me about the cases you committed?”

Suddenly, a gleaming gold ingot appeared before Mole, causing his face to contort with excitement. “There were eleven victims in all. Well, that’s not quite right—of the eleven, only Miss Xiao was a maiden. The others were all married women. That’s why so many useless men are hiding out in the inn, drinking away their sorrows.”

Mo Bai nodded thoughtfully. “Is there anything in this town that’s unique? Something you can’t find elsewhere?”

Mole hesitated. “Boss, what do you mean? Food, entertainment, or something else? That’s a broad question.” The lure of money had already made him surrender.

Mo Bai said, “I can’t say for sure—that’s for you to think about.”

Mole pondered for a while. “Ten miles outside town is Four Lakes. The fish there are said to be especially fat and delicious—a specialty of the area.”

Mo Bai shook his head.

Mole thought again. “There’s also a place different from anywhere else. Ordinary folk aren’t allowed in—I only heard Brother Blood Vengeance mention it. It’s very special.”

Mo Bai’s interest was piqued. “What place?”

Mole replied, “On the west side of town, the last pavilion. They say it used to be home to a former county magistrate, an exceptionally upright man. After retiring, he lived there in peace.”

“And what makes it special?” Mo Bai asked.

“Of course it’s special,” Mole said. “That magistrate was above reproach. Commoners like us wouldn’t dare disturb him. Even I’ve never been. They say his home is elegantly furnished, and those who leave always seem refreshed and revitalized. It’s called a wondrous place.”

Mo Bai nodded. “So your Brother Blood Vengeance has been there?”

“Certainly!” Mole declared proudly. “He’s not only a top disciple of Cloud Sky Sect, but also the town’s only official constable. Naturally he could pay the magistrate a visit.” He puffed up as he spoke, as if he and Blood Vengeance were one and the same.

Mo Bai toyed with the gold in his hand, then, under Mole’s watchful gaze, tossed it into his arms. “It’s yours.”

Mole could hardly believe his luck. Not until Mo Bai walked away did he finally secure the ingot in his pouch.

Following Mole’s directions, Mo Bai made his way to the so-called pavilion on the west side of town. He knocked softly. With a creak, a young boy poked his head out—round-faced and bright-eyed. He greeted Mo Bai with a polite bow, clearly well-mannered. “Sir, whom do you seek?”

Mo Bai’s goodwill grew. “I’ve long admired your master and came to pay my respects.”

But the boy’s face turned sorrowful. “My master passed away three days ago. Did you not know, sir?”

Mo Bai was stunned.