But I'm a proper river god, you know! - Chapter 31

“Xiaochuan, was it Xuanding, that old bastard, who gave this to you?!” A thought flashed through Mu Dezhong’s mind.

Xuanding had always supported the second branch of the family—this could very well be his scheme. But Mu Dezhong wasn’t entirely sure. With the clan now colluding with the second branch, was it the second branch’s doing, or someone else’s?

He needed to uncover the mastermind behind this to prepare properly.

“Hah.” Yue Tianchuan scoffed, feigning composure with a forced bravado. “Godfather, don’t bother asking.”

His peripheral vision caught sight of a black crow perched on a tree branch. His neck stiffened, and he hardened his tone. “I won’t tell you anything. Go ahead and kill me if you dare.”

“But even if you kill me, you won’t get what you want.” His voice was firm, though inwardly, he wondered if this bluff would actually work.

Hearing this, Mu Dezhong’s anger flared. “What kind of poison have they fed you? I must’ve been blind—all these years of teaching you, and you turn out to be an ungrateful wretch.”

Yue Tianchuan fell silent for a moment, casting a deep glance at Mu Dezhong before lowering his head without rebuttal.

Yuan Ji wasn’t surprised by his attitude. She crouched down and spoke slowly, “I won’t kill you.”

Under Yue Tianchuan’s smug “You wouldn’t dare” expression, Yuan Ji unhurriedly pulled out two scrolls from her sleeve and unrolled them.

“Eighteen Methods of Torture.”

“Sixty Lectures on Extreme Punishments.”

“Which one should we try first?”

Her voice was soft, yet colder than ice, sending chills down everyone’s spines.

Yan Ku, standing nearby, caught a glimpse of one of the torture methods listed and immediately broke out in a cold sweat. Just one glance was enough to make him feel an imaginary, piercing pain. He silently took a step back from Yuan Ji.

Too terrifying.

His reaction caught Qu Yunqing’s attention. The little sable wriggled out of Mu Zhao’s arms, scurried over to peek, then immediately dashed back into Mu Zhao’s embrace, looking like it was about to faint.

Too cruel!

It was just an innocent little sable—it couldn’t handle the horror of such punishments.

One look was enough to leave both of them deeply shaken, let alone Yue Tianchuan, who was staring straight at the full scroll.

“Which one first?” Yuan Ji raised a brow, spreading the scroll open before him. Her fingertip trailed over the names before stopping at “Bone Drunk.”

“This one’s the simplest. Should we start with it?” Her gaze flickered meaningfully to his limbs, as if mildly regretful.

Yue Tianchuan gulped, his heart pounding wildly, though inwardly, he felt a sliver of relief. “I won’t talk.”

Yuan Ji didn’t miss the fleeting ease in his eyes. She smirked knowingly.

Standing up, she scanned the surroundings and noticed the crow tilting its head at them from the tree branch. Without reacting, she snapped her fingers.

The previously dormant pitcher plants abruptly shot up, their leaves multiplying, opening and closing with a metallic gleam under the sunlight.

Snap, snap.

At Yuan Ji’s command, the leaves stretched out, swaying menacingly in the air, blotting out the sky.

Even though it was high noon, an icy wind seemed to sweep through, making everyone shiver.

“Pity I don’t have any proper tools on hand, so the pitcher plants will have to do.” As if recalling something, she added considerately, “Oh, and don’t move around too much. Wouldn’t want them to accidentally bite something else.”

The mental image of the pitcher plants chewing on people made everyone’s hearts skip a beat.

Ye Wenshu’s legs nearly gave out. He curled into a ball beside Xuan Chengren, terrified of getting too close and being “accidentally” nibbled.

Too brutal.

“River God,” Mu Dezhong’s eyes flickered with reluctance. He was about to plead for mercy when Mu Zhao stopped him.

Mu Dezhong looked up into Mu Zhao’s deep, unreadable gaze and froze. A mix of conflict and shame crossed his face before he swallowed his words.

What right did he have to beg for Yue Tianchuan’s sake?

With a furious slap to his own face, the crisp sound rang out sharply amidst the metallic clatter of the pitcher plants’ leaves.

Everyone stared in stunned silence as Mu Dezhong’s right cheek swelled, the bright red handprint a testament to the force behind it.

“Godfather…” Yue Tianchuan’s brows twitched with distress. He instinctively tried to rise and check on him, only to remember he couldn’t move.

He clenched his jaw and turned his head away. “Just do it!”

“As you wish.” Yuan Ji’s voice turned icy.

The pitcher plant’s leaves shot toward Yue Tianchuan like lightning, tearing off the red lotus at his wrist. The scent of blood instantly filled the courtyard.

The excruciating pain drained all color from Yue Tianchuan’s face. Cold sweat drenched his clothes as he let out a muffled groan, collapsing to the ground and convulsing before falling still.

The crow on the branch tilted its head, watching Yue Tianchuan for a moment before vanishing with a whoosh.

In the next instant, a blinding light erupted from Yue Tianchuan’s body—and he disappeared.

“A teleportation talisman?!” Mu Dezhong’s eyes widened in fury. “Xiaochuan!”

Yuan Ji calmly watched the direction the crow had fled before gesturing for the pitcher plant to spit the red lotus into Ye Wenshu’s hands.

A leaf suddenly loomed before him, jaws gaping. Ye Wenshu yelped, falling backward and scrambling away. “Good heavens, you’ve got the wrong guy!”

Yuan Ji: “…”

She gave him a look of mild disdain. “Investigate where he was taken.”

Ye Wenshu panted heavily before finally processing her words. “O-oh, right. At once, River God.”

The others stared blankly at the scene, struggling to make sense of it. “River God, what just happened?”

Why had Yue Tianchuan been able to sneak in undetected earlier, only to vanish now with a teleportation talisman? What was going on?

Yuan Ji motioned for Yan Ku to explain. She’d talked enough already—she was tired.

Yan Ku stepped forward promptly.

As it turned out, Yuan Ji had noticed the dark seedling on Yue Tianchuan’s wrist the night before. To avoid alerting the enemy, she’d instructed everyone in the temple to pretend not to notice the intruders—all to lure out the mastermind’s true intentions.

Earlier in the courtyard, she’d also recognized the crow as the mastermind’s eyes. Capturing it rashly would’ve made them wary.

The only way was to make the mastermind believe Yue Tianchuan had truly turned against Mu Zhao’s group—and that he still had value. That way, they’d take him away.

Now, all they had to do was track Yue Tianchuan to find the one behind it all.

Ah! The system suddenly understood. “So that’s why you spent a spirit stone on Eighteen Methods of Torture and Sixty Lectures on Extreme Punishments—just to scare them! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

It had genuinely thought Yuan Ji intended to use those methods and had been worried sick.

Yuan Ji gave the system a complicated look, hesitating before deciding against speaking.

Fine. So the system’s a bit dumb. Not like I’m relying on it to put food on the table.

“River God, I’ve calculated it.” Ye Wenshu quickly pinpointed Yue Tianchuan’s location. “They’re fifty li southwest of here.”

“Good.” Yuan Ji nodded, then pointed at the red lotus in his arms. “Plant that by the gate.”

“?!” Ye Wenshu stiffened, trembling as he glanced at the pitcher plant’s gnashing leaves. “N-next to that?”

Yuan Ji nodded expressionlessly before raising a brow as if to ask, You can’t handle it?

Seeing his pained expression, she added flatly, “Relax. It’s well-behaved.” It won’t bite.

Well-behaved?

Everyone eyed the pitcher plant skeptically before falling into silence.

“Stay here. Don’t leave.” Yuan Ji instructed. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Sister Yuan.” Mu Zhao quickly stepped forward, blocking her path. “Are you going after Xiaochuan? I’ll come with you.”

“Young Master, River God—I’ll go too.” Mu Dezhong had regained his composure, now every bit the stern elder again.

Yuan Ji studied him before shaking her head in refusal. “It’s still weak. You stay and tend to it. Mu Dezhong will come with me.”

Mu Zhao tried to protest, but Yuan Ji shoved a cloth bundle into his arms and tossed out a “Train hard” before vanishing.

Mu Zhao gripped the bundle tightly, resolve firm. “I will.”

…

Outside the River God Temple, Yuan Ji and Mu Dezhong sped southwest.

Mu Dezhong was fast. His bonded plant was a healing white lotus, so while his cultivation was high, his offensive power was limited. To avoid holding others back during missions, he’d trained relentlessly—few could match his speed.

Yet, to his surprise, the River God was even faster.

Watching her retreating figure, his determination solidified. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to keep up.

Can’t slow her down.

But just as he caught up, Yuan Ji abruptly halted. Mu Dezhong’s heart lurched—Was there an ambush ahead?!

He immediately shifted into a defensive stance, only for Yuan Ji to turn and say, “Wait here a moment.”

“Has the River God detected something?” Mu Dezhong asked cautiously.

Yuan Ji: “…”

She tilted her head slightly. “No. Just picking up some trash.”

Mu Dezhong: “?”

Before he could react, Yuan Ji had already landed by the Forgotten River.

Mu Dezhong knew he’d never forget what happened next.

The girl stood with her hands behind her back, the cold wind tousling her ink-black hair. Calmly, she raised a palm toward the river.

The still water suddenly rippled violently, as if something were emerging.

A moment later—golden light erupted.

Mu Dezhong’s shock was palpable. Unless he was mistaken, three top-grade spiritual artifacts had just flown out of the Forgotten River.

The same Forgotten River where, according to legend, nothing that fell in ever resurfaced.

For a second, he couldn’t decide what was more unbelievable—Yuan Ji calling three top-grade spiritual artifacts trash, or her fishing them out of the Forgotten River like it was nothing.

The three artifacts shot out of the water, eager to claim her as their master—only to be abruptly buried under a pile of dirt.

Top-grade spiritual artifacts: “??”

Having completed her daily task, Yuan Ji tossed the “eyesore” into a nearby pit and dusted off her hands. “Let’s go.”

The action made Mu Dezhong suck in a sharp breath.

“T-those were top-grade spiritual artifacts!” he sputtered, aghast. Most people would kill for even one.

Yuan Ji looked at him blankly. And?

“Why didn’t the River God keep them?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Too ugly.”

She preferred shiny, crystal-like treasures. These things looked dull and uninteresting.

Without a second glance, she turned and walked away.

Mu Dezhong, who’d never expected that reason: “…”

The three buried spiritual artifacts: “…”

Behind them, a small green sword overheard and perked up, happily bouncing after Yuan Ji.