“Brother Wen, this night owl isn’t out here to pick flowers, a sex offender doesn’t need this much cash with him.”

“Probably doesn’t need extra clothes for bathing, either.” Wen Kexing kicked a small bag hidden in a bush into the open. The bag was also made of black cloth, and inside was some clothes for changing when one was away from home.

The forest earth was damp and soft with a chaotic map of footprints on it, but there didn’t seem to be evidence of a fight. Beside the mark of the hand which caused instant death, there weren’t any other wounds or scars on Mu Yunge’s body. His famous sword was by his hip, still sheathed.

Mu Yunge’s kungfu was definitely above average, at least he would not fight back like a suckling. Zhou Zishu fell into silence, thinking perhaps the dignified and righteous swordsman of Duan Jian Manor and the Delighted Mourning Ghost of the Valley had arranged a date?

A bloody one at that, which likely started out as a passionate but the passion turned into anger afterwards.

There seemed to be three people present before they arrived; and while Mu Yunge’s footprints stopped here, the other two’s went in different directions, suggesting they might not be on the same side. One was no doubt chasing after Mu Yunge to this place, then sat down to examine the body just like what Zhou Zishu was doing right now.

Zhou Zishu squatted on the ground, the old habit of questioning everything rearing its head again, making his insides itch. He felt an urge to follow the footprints, but rationality warned him that it would only lead to troubles. He was no longer the all-knowing mighty leader of Tian Chuang, there was no point in burdening himself with inconveniences.

Wen Kexing watched his companion sit in a terribly indecent fashion and look like it would take him forever to stand up. After a long while he couldn’t help but ask, “You won’t pursue them?”

Zhou Zishu stared at him, still waging an internal war.

Wen Kexing, after some thought, strode after the second one’s footprints, saying, “Then I will.”

Zhou Zishu followed him unconsciously, speaking in surprise, “You really want to be involved in something that’s not your business?”

Wen Kexing’s face was serious. “Someone killed the Lord of Duan Jian Manor, and I’m a charitable person who wants to gather merits, so why not. And I’m bored anyway.”

Zhou Zishu felt like the last sentence was incredibly reasonable, so he nodded, inquiring again, “Then why don’t you follow the first person? Their footprints are very light, so they seem to be the strongest among the three. Hypothetically speaking, if the third one was the last to come here and was from the Zhao’s Holding, then the first person is definitely Sun Ding the Delighted Mourning Ghost.”