Zhan Zhao stuffed a mouthful of food into his mouth and figured that being touched wasn’t really a loss—after all, he had touched back, so they were even.

As someone who never fussed over small matters, Zhan Daxia quickly forgot about it and focused on picking out the tastiest dishes with his chopsticks. Dao Fu Town might have been a small place, but even small towns had their delicacies, especially their unique local specialties.

Bai Yutang observed for a moment and realized that this cheerful and easygoing Zhan Daxia was a true foodie. He even knew what local snacks Dao Fu Town was famous for and ordered dishes so smoothly, as if he had been here many times before.

In fact, before setting out, Zhan Zhao had already inquired with the older officers at the yamen about what was worth eating in the area.

As he ate, Zhan Zhao noticed Bai Yutang only drinking wine and not eating, so he frowned. “Not to your taste? If you want something else, we can order more.”

Bai Yutang seemed to be in a good mood. He picked up his chopsticks, took a bite, and found the taste quite decent—Zhan Zhao actually knew how to order well.

Zhan Zhao, however, found it curious that even the way Bai Yutang picked up food was so refined and elegant. He couldn’t resist handing him a spoon, thinking, I’d like to see you maintain that aristocratic manner while drinking soup.

But Bai Yutang simply placed the spoon aside, untouched, and continued drinking his wine.

Seeing this, Zhan Zhao put away his playful thoughts and turned his attention to the wooden box on the table. He asked Bai Yutang, “You traveled all the way to Dao Fu Town—isn’t it for the extermination case of the Duan Dao Sect?”

“I just learned about it,” Bai Yutang replied. Seeing that Zhan Zhao was curious about the box, he reached out and pulled away the white silk cloth wrapped around it.

Zhan Zhao saw a black wooden box inside the cloth and glanced at Bai Yutang.

Bai Yutang raised an eyebrow. “Open it and see.”

Zhan Zhao frowned. “It’s not a human head, is it?”

Bai Yutang drank his wine without answering.

Zhan Zhao opened the box and peeked inside—he was momentarily stunned. Inside the wooden box lay a stark white skull.

Zhan Zhao didn’t quite understand. He closed the lid and looked at Bai Yutang.

Bai Yutang said, “Look more closely.”

Zhan Zhao opened the box again for a closer look. Since they were in a public place, he didn’t want to take the skull out, so he tilted the box slightly to see better. Then, he spotted something peculiar—a black mark on the cheekbone of the skull, seemingly a tattooed character.

It was the word “罪” (meaning “crime” or “guilt”), which was branded onto criminals sentenced to exile. Since cheekbones had little flesh, the branding would often reach the bone itself.

Zhan Zhao shut the box and fell into deep thought.

The Tian Shan Sect had many disciples, but the martial world knew that its internal affairs were chaotic. Sect leader Lu Feng could not control the young and talented disciples, and this all traced back to the temperament of their grandmaster, Tian Zun.

Tian Zun was revered as a supreme martial artist, on par with Yin Hou, the master of the Tianmo Palace.

However, he was quite childlike in nature. Being an exceptional talent himself, he only took in disciples with extraordinary potential.

Over the years, Tian Zun had taken on many disciples, but he often lost interest after teaching them a few techniques, leaving them to the sect leader to train further. Out of all his students, only Bai Yutang had been taught seriously from start to finish—he was the only one Tian Zun openly acknowledged as his successor.

Apart from Bai Yutang, Tian Zun had given guidance to at least twelve or thirteen other disciples, who, though not as talented as Bai Yutang, each had their own unique skills.

The Tian Shan Sect, being a renowned martial arts sanctuary, housed a vast collection of martial arts manuals. As these disciples matured, they each established their own followings and honed their skills. Though Lu Feng was the sect leader, he had little control over them due to the complex hierarchy.

As a result, the Tian Shan Sect became fragmented into various factions.

Some disciples faithfully managed the sect’s daily affairs under Lu Feng. Others aligned themselves with a specific senior brother, either forming independent sects or scheming for leadership, resulting in constant internal strife.

Among these disciples, one was quite unique—Yang Caisheng.

Yang Caisheng was one of Tian Zun’s early students, though Tian Zun never officially acknowledged him as a disciple.

Carefree and known for his charm, Yang Caisheng had no interest in power struggles. He preferred wandering the world and enjoying life.

After mastering martial arts, he roamed the martial world freely. However, at some point, he fell deeply in love with a foreign woman, and their love was passionate and intense. Unfortunately, the woman was an assassin who was captured after attempting to assassinate an imperial official. Unaware of the truth, Yang Caisheng helped her escape and, in doing so, broke the law. Worse, she later betrayed him, leaving him seriously injured.

In the end, Yang Caisheng was framed, branded as a criminal, and exiled. After that, he vanished—rumored to be dead.

This story had been widely spread for over a decade. Because of it, many Central Plains martial artists became wary of foreign women, fearing they might suffer the same fate as Yang Caisheng.

Zhan Zhao stared at the skull for a long time before asking Bai Yutang, “Is this Yang Caisheng?”

Bai Yutang set down his wine cup. “A few days ago, my master summoned me to Tian Shan. This box was waiting on the table.”

Zhan Zhao listened intently.

“A foreign woman delivered it to my master,” Bai Yutang continued in an unhurried tone. “She claimed that the skull belonged to Yang Caisheng and that the truth behind his case was different from what was believed. Yang Caisheng died trying to save her, and she never betrayed him—they were both framed.”

“Oh?” Zhan Zhao was surprised. “Why didn’t she speak out earlier?”

“She was gravely ill and passed away before she could explain everything.” Bai Yutang frowned. “Before she died, she said Yang Caisheng’s body was in Dao Fu Town. He left behind a letter, asking that she deliver it to my master as his final wish.”

Bai Yutang pulled a letter from his waist and handed it to Zhan Zhao.

Zhan Zhao was surprised. “Are you sure I can read this?”

Bai Yutang seemed indifferent. “Did you kill Yang Caisheng?”

Zhan Zhao blinked. “Of course not.”

“Then why not?” Bai Yutang poured more wine.

Zhan Zhao found Bai Yutang’s attitude rather likable—straightforward and unguarded. A true gentleman had nothing to hide!

Opening the letter, he saw that Yang Caisheng’s handwriting was shaky and uneven. It seemed like he originally had good penmanship but was too weak to hold the brush properly.

Reading the letter, Zhan Zhao felt sorrowful. A brilliant hero had met such a tragic end—why?

The letter first expressed deep respect and apologies to Tian Zun, stating that he was ashamed to return to the sect. It was clearly a farewell letter. The sincerity in his words moved Zhan Zhao.

The latter half of the letter detailed the true events of the past.

It turned out that the foreign woman was not a spy. She was a descendant of a now-extinct tribe from beyond the Great Wall, searching for a lost tribal relic—the Duan Tou Dao (Severed Head Blade).

Zhan Zhao finished reading and asked Bai Yutang, “What kind of blade is the Duan Tou Dao? Is it famous?”

“I inquired among my contacts beyond the Great Wall—none of them had ever heard of it.” Bai Yutang put the letter away. “My master didn’t ask me to find the blade. He only wants me to retrieve Yang Caisheng’s remains and give him a proper burial alongside that woman.”

Zhan Zhao nodded. Tian Zun actually had a humane side after all. People said he was detached from worldly affairs, but that clearly wasn’t the case.