He had indeed deliberately provoked Li Zhubo, hoping that in his rage, the man would lose his composure and reveal some useful information.
Who would have thought that this Li Zhubo had such a short fuse, fainting after just a couple of insults?
Meng Qi reflected on his actions. The people he had interrogated in the past were either tough soldiers, stubborn scholars, death warriors, or later on, people from the Jianghu… all individuals who could endure some rough treatment. Usually, it took at least four or five rounds of verbal sparring before they gave in; none of them collapsed as quickly as Li Zhubo.
“The tent must have been hit too hard.” Meng Qi shifted the blame, then rummaged through his bag to light some mugwort.
When you’re in the wrong, it’s best to behave and prepare for Doctor Mo’s third round of acupuncture.
Smoke curled around them.
The swordsman silently took a step back, finding the smell irritating.
Mo Li looked at Li Zhubo’s head, troubled.
Using silver needles to stimulate acupuncture points to restore consciousness worked wonders the first time and was still somewhat effective the second time, but a third attempt in such a short period might not work.
Before Mo Li could decide the order of acupuncture points to use, he suddenly noticed that the smoke in the corner of his eye seemed off.
Why was it so thick?
It’s just mugwort, not a bonfire.
Mo Li instinctively turned to look at Meng Qi, only to realize that the smoke seemed to be drifting in from the nearby forest.
Meng Qi, still amidst the mugwort smoke, hadn’t noticed anything unusual yet.
This isn’t good!
Mo Li suddenly stood up and urgently shouted, “Hold your breath.”
The strong smell of mugwort had masked the other scent, preventing Mo Li from noticing it sooner.
Meng Qi quickly extinguished the fire and tossed the mugwort into a crack in the rocks, then grabbed Li Zhubo by the shoulders and darted several meters away.
The swordsman, who had been staying away from the mugwort and closer to the forest, had been exposed to the mysterious smoke. He hadn’t realized it before Mo Li’s warning, but now he found his true energy somewhat depleted.
“What is this, a drug?” the swordsman asked in shock.
The smoke, like mist, slowly drifted towards them.
It was the darkest time just before dawn, and ordinary people couldn’t see the smoke’s form. By the time they noticed it, it might already be too late.
“Did they release poison?” The swordsman’s hands and feet were slightly numb. Fortunately, he had noticed it early, so the symptoms weren’t severe, but this kind of stealthy method was truly frightening.
“Impossible!”
Meng Qi was carefully observing his surroundings when he heard this and couldn’t help but find it somewhat amusing. “You’re the leader of an assassination organization. Shouldn’t you know whether such methods are feasible?”
The swordsman was just overwhelmed by the night’s events, feeling as though he had lived in vain for decades, knowing nothing at all. Meng Qi’s half-mocking, half-provocative comment brought him back to his senses.
——Trying to mix drugs or poisons with water, then vaporize them into mist and send them over with the wind?
Never mind that only those near the pot or fire would inhale enough to be affected; by the time it drifted far, the poison, and even the mist, would have dissipated into the wind. As for the wind direction, every assassin dreams of releasing a poisonous mist to eliminate the target and all their guards in one go, effortlessly and safely, but in reality, it’s impossible.
The wind direction can change.
Only in specific seasons or terrains does the wind blow in a fixed direction.
The problem is, those places usually have strong winds, which would scatter any smoke or mist long before it reached its target.
The only places where poisonous mist could be used are dense forests, swamps, canyons… situations where the terrain is particularly advantageous. However, they were currently outside the city, in a region of Yu Prefecture where the mountains were little more than hills, and there were no mountains near Run County. The land was open, with only a patch of forest that looked a bit eerie.
The swordsman had carefully examined the woods when Meng Qi stopped there.
The trees were short and sparse, not even dense enough to hide a person, let alone to set a fire to create poisonous mist.
Despite the logic, the swordsman had indeed been affected. Holding his breath, he wondered in transmission, “Then where is this mist coming from?”
Li Zhubo let out a soft moan in his unconscious state, forcing Meng Qi to carry him even farther away.
“Doctor, you watch over him. I’ll check out the forest.” Meng Qi disliked the burden of Li Zhubo but couldn’t let him die either.
“No need.”
Mo Li, being closer to the forest, found it troublesome to go back and forth, so he decided to enter the forest himself.
Since he couldn’t speak without breathing, Mo Li didn’t even bother with transmission; he just nodded.
The forest was shrouded in darkness.
From outside, the trees seemed short and sparse, not particularly dangerous.
But once inside, the tangled branches and thick leaves obstructed the view, and even Mo Li couldn’t see through stones and tree trunks.
He listened intently to the surrounding sounds. Night birds made strange calls from the trees, there was rustling in the grass—likely small creatures like wild rabbits or mountain mice—and a continuous chorus of insect chirps. Summer nights were always so lively.
Something was off; the insect sounds seemed to have diminished.
Mo Li took a deep breath and leaped onto a tree branch, listening closely.
Only the cicadas on nearby trees were still chirping; the insects in the grass had gone silent.
Mo Li followed the sound and soon discovered several spots where wisps of smoke were rising from the ground.
The initial smoke was blackish-yellow, very thick, but as the wind blew, it gradually thinned out and became indistinguishable twenty paces away.
Holding his breath, Mo Li couldn’t smell the smoke.
He thought for a moment, then quickly plucked a dazed rabbit from the bushes, testing it by bringing it into the smoke’s range.
The rabbit immediately began to struggle, its legs flailing, its head jerking back as if it had passed out, hanging limply with its limbs motionless.
“…”
It was still alive.
Mo Li didn’t need to check to know the rabbit’s condition.
Initially, the rabbit played dead in response to the danger, but gradually, as it inhaled more smoke, it became agitated, its eyes turning red as it thrashed about, snapping its jaws wildly.
Mo Li threw it to the ground, but it didn’t run away. It crawled forward, twitching and gnawing as if intoxicated.
There was no grass under the rabbit, only fallen leaves and soil.
Seeing this, Mo Li immediately understood. It was likely the smoke from burning opium poppies.
——This wasn’t some assassination attempt with poisonous mist; the Sun family, realizing the situation was hopeless, had simply set fire to their opium processing facility.
This secret workshop was hidden underground, with only a secret passage leading in and out.
Whether it was the chamber or the passage, they needed ventilation. The smoke was now coming out through these vents.
Once the fire burned everything down, no one would be able to figure out the recipe for the opium pills from the ashes. And this sacred medicine from the Southern Border—without the physical evidence, people would dismiss any mention of it as madness, refusing to believe it.
Mo Li instinctively reached for the bottle he had stashed in his robe.
Fortunately, during the Sweet Spring Bathhouse incident, he had been cautious of the opium’s power and hadn’t handed it all over to Pavilion Master Feng. Otherwise, the remaining pills might have been lost in the ruins by now.
Mo Li used his lightness skill to swiftly exit the forest. Meeting Meng Qi’s puzzled gaze, Mo Li directly shared his guess. Meng Qi frowned, feeling a strange sensation throughout his body.
It wasn’t poison but the excitement of encountering a worthy opponent.
——It had been a long time since he felt this way.
Meng Qi’s lips curled into a smile as he murmured to himself, “That shopkeeper Sun is quite a character.”
Much better than Li Zhubo, who couldn’t make a decisive move. First, he ran away in time, leaving them empty-handed and forcing them to try their luck at the military camp. After the camp was compromised and the formation broken, instead of sending people to chase them, he burned down the place where they produced the opium pills.
This action also indicated that Shopkeeper Sun held a high and authoritative position within that secret organization. Otherwise, even with decisive orders, commanding an immediate retreat and the destruction of such an important workshop, wouldn’t his subordinates have opposed it?
How long had it been since Meng Qi broke Li Zhubo out? The smoke was already billowing out of the ventilation shafts and drifting from the forest.
To act so quickly, Shopkeeper Sun must have planned this step as a contingency when heading to the military camp, possibly even giving orders while passing through the secret passage.
Always thinking several steps ahead, always prepared with a countermeasure. Even in failure, he could retreat unscathed, leaving the enemy with nothing to gain.
The swordsman watched as Meng Qi’s smile slowly widened, while his eyes, filled with a heavy killing intent, contrasted sharply with his expression. Suddenly, the swordsman understood the relationship between Mo Li and Meng Qi—they were crazy enough to require a famous doctor to watch over them at all times.
The swordsman almost wondered if it was Meng Qi, not himself, who had inhaled the toxic fumes.
“Does the smoke from burning opium poppies also have toxic effects?” Meng Qi asked, noticing Mo Li’s serious expression, while the swordsman seemed less worried despite knowing the situation.
“It can cause brief loss of consciousness in both people and animals. In larger amounts, it can lead to madness, while milder exposure might only result in weakness of the limbs…”
Mo Li glanced at Li Zhubo, swallowing the rest of his words.
When Xue Lingjun had tested a small piece of the burned drug, he found chickens flying wildly, rabbits gnawing uncontrollably, and even dogs learning to grin foolishly. Their brains had momentarily lost control, causing them to perform all sorts of bizarre actions.
Meng Qi also noticed something off with Li Zhubo lying nearby.
Li Zhubo suddenly started smiling silently in his unconscious state, his smile twisted, his limbs twitching slightly as if he had been freed from the torment of his headaches.
“Is he… still savable?” Meng Qi asked, looking at Li Zhubo with disdain.
“Don’t let him inhale any more of the smoke.”
Mo Li responded helplessly, noting that the swordsman was pointing at himself.
“You should know that this level of poison isn’t too serious.” Circulating one’s inner energy a few more times would eliminate any symptoms.
Li Zhubo had no martial arts skills, so he couldn’t deal with it, but what was a martial arts master afraid of?
Mo Li frowned and asked, “You should have recovered by now, right?”
The swordsman remained silent.
Even so, he was still worried about any possible aftereffects.
No one knew better than the swordsman how powerful the pills controlled by Piaoping Pavilion were.
Addiction to these things was like stepping into the underworld with one foot; one’s martial prowess would stagnate. After a year, their internal energy would become volatile and hard to control, their bones and muscles weaker than before, leaving them with only seventy to eighty percent of their original strength. Taking a pill might allow them to unleash one hundred and twenty percent of their power, but once the effect wore off, they would be left as a pile of mud, their vitality depleted and their life expectancy shortened.
The swordsman was exceptionally obsessed with martial arts and swordsmanship, avoiding anything that might hinder his progress.
Even if it meant living in a tomb, eating rough food, avoiding alcohol, and eschewing women, he used daily rigorous training and killing to hone his swordsmanship. He had never sought out the other affairs of Piaoping Pavilion or the hidden power of its mysterious master; he lived only for his swordsmanship.
“No need for a specific antidote?”
“…Drink plenty of water, rest more, and avoid overthinking.”
Mo Li replied expressionlessly.
After speaking, Mo Li pointed at Li Zhubo and said, “Could you take him farther away? Be careful when moving him.”
Mo Li indicated a high spot upwind.
This important hostage was entrusted to him? The swordsman was shocked, and when he snapped out of it, he realized Mo Li had already called Meng Qi to enter the forest together.
Meng Qi transmitted with a half-smile, “Aren’t you afraid this Su Li’er will run off with his men?”
Mo Li didn’t even look back as he transmitted, “Why not test this swordsman with a hostage that’s no longer useful?”
Li Zhubo was already useless.
Mo Li wasn’t skilled in schemes and plots, but he could read Meng Qi’s expressions to guess his thoughts!
Meng Qi had discovered that the real person in charge of Run County was the shopkeeper of the Sun family business, not Li Zhubo.
Although Li Zhubo was of noble birth from the Western Liang country, a descendant of one of the eight illustrious families, and skilled in arcane arts, his mind wasn’t sharp, and he had a bit of an inflated ego. Although Li Zhubo was valued by this secret force for his knowledge, the “leader” hadn’t truly entrusted him with significant responsibility.
Like the swordsman, he had great martial skills but knew too little.
The information Meng Qi could extract from Li Zhubo might only scratch the surface of this secret force, and by the time Meng Qi chased down those leads, Shopkeeper Sun, with his decisive actions, might have already destroyed everything.
An interrogation target who had lost his value was no longer important, dead or alive.
Mo Li’s extra word to the swordsman about watching over the unconscious Li Zhubo was merely out of a doctor’s compassion.
“Ah Li, you’re too kind-hearted.” Meng Qi sighed.
In a war, useless people would be killed, and their heads sent to the enemy.
Why keep them in your own camp? It’s a waste of food!
“What did you just call me?” Mo Li suddenly turned his head.
“Doctor?”
“No.”
Mo Li stared at Meng Qi expressionlessly, while the latter feigned innocence.
Oops, it seemed he had accidentally said the name he secretly called in his heart out loud.
Meng Qi pretended nothing had happened, gathered his full strength, and slammed his palm down on the smoking ground.
Immediately, dust flew everywhere, and the ground shook with the trees.
Just as the ground began to collapse, Mo Li’s right sleeve flashed with a blade’s light, slicing open the ground where the ventilation shaft for the original secret passage had been.
Author’s Note:
National Teacher, think carefully, isn’t this way of calling names unfair to you?
