Chapter 123: Blackfish

"I am not Xiaoyu." The man removed his bamboo hat, revealing a face with a striking resemblance to Peng Xiaoyu. His voice was somewhat coarse, clearly that of a man—a young man who looked remarkably like her.

Wei Ba immediately thought of the spy leader code-named Black Fish. He was about to expose him, but the words died on his lips. The existence of Black Fish was a secret; Jin Dongliu had only confided in him to alleviate his comrade's suffering, and Wei Ba could not implicate him.

"Who are you?" Wei Ba entered the room and sat at the head table. Dun Wu stood to the side, his hands resting on the hilt of his blade.

"I am Xiaoyu's older brother." The young man smiled faintly. "My name is Peng Heng, courtesy name Xuanyu."

Xuanyu, Black Fish—it had to be him.

Wei Ba slowly cracked his knuckles. "So, the scheme to frame me for murder was orchestrated by you?"

"It seems you have uncovered quite a bit," Peng Heng said unhurriedly. "It was my plan. Well, is it not exquisite?"

"Exquisite is hardly the word." Wei Ba snorted with disdain and waved his hand dismissively.

Peng Heng’s lips curled into a smile, but just as it bloomed, his expression changed drastically. He leaped into the air. In mid-flight, with a sharp metallic clang, the ring-pommeled blade at his waist left its scabbard, whistling as he slashed it toward his back.

His reaction was not slow, but unfortunately, he was facing the well-coordinated duo of Wei Ba and Dun Wu. Seeing Wei Ba crack his knuckles had been the signal for Dun Wu to prepare. The moment Wei Ba moved his hand, Dun Wu drew his blade and struck.

The draw and the strike were one fluid motion. By the time Peng Heng realized the danger, it was too late. His own strike lacked the force to deflect Dun Wu’s blade; instead, his weapon was knocked aside, and he was struck heavily in the waist. Dun Wu’s strength was so immense that Peng Heng was sent flying two paces, crashing into the wall with a thunderous thud.

Before he could hit the ground, Wei Ba lunged forward, exhaling sharply as he drove a fist into Peng Heng’s abdomen. Jolted by the successive blows, Peng Heng doubled over like a charred shrimp, gasping in agony. The ring-blade fell from his hand to the floor.

Hearing the struggle, rapid footsteps echoed from the adjacent rooms. Four or five sturdy men rushed out, all brandishing sharp blades. However, as they reached the doorway, they were met by a flash of cold, bright steel.

Dun Wu held his blade with both hands and brought it down in a brutal arc, cleaving the skull of the man in the lead.

Blood sprayed, and the scene instantly turned gruesome.

Dun Wu stood motionless as a mountain, his blade held overhead, gazing coldly at the four men outside. The man blocking the doorway slowly raised a hand to touch the hot blood streaming down his face, took a step back, and collapsed to the ground. After a few tremors, he died. Blood surged from his split skull, pooling rapidly.

His four companions scattered in terror, staring at the sight, none daring to take a single step forward against the god of slaughter that was Dun Wu.

Wei Ba did not even glance at the door; he trusted that Dun Wu had the skill to guard the entrance and intimidate those men. He reached out, grabbed Peng Heng by the throat, and pinned him against the wall. With the same nonchalant tone, he asked, "Is my fist technique not also exquisite?"

"You... you are ruthless!" Though in a wretched state, Peng Heng had not lost his composure. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his face was pale, yet his eyes remained resolute. He raised a hand to signal his followers to stand down. "However, you dare not kill me."

Wei Ba’s mouth twitched. "You are mistaken. It is not that I dare not kill you; it is that I do not wish to."

"Is that so?" Peng Heng stood on his tiptoes to steady himself, mouth agape, gasping for air. His pale skin flushed red from oxygen deprivation, but Wei Ba had no intention of ending his life—otherwise, he would have crushed his larynx already.

"I heard from Xiaoyu that she was the only one left in her family, which is why she preferred to be a maid rather than return home," Wei Ba said slowly, releasing his grip. He watched as Peng Heng slid down the wall, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. "Now, a brother suddenly appears. Though a coward, he is family nonetheless. I do not wish for her to lose what she has regained, so I will spare your miserable life."

"Heh, heh, heh. Who would have thought? My sister is quite fortunate to have such a considerate master."

"I am not her master," Wei Ba corrected him. "I have never treated her as a slave."

"Is that so?" Peng Heng’s breathing leveled out. He tilted his head, looking at Wei Ba with a mocking gaze. "She cooks for you, makes your bed, and even washes your feet at night—is that not a slave?"

"I admit she does many things, but I do not view her as a slave. If I did, your sister would not still be a virgin," Wei Ba said calmly. "Boy, since you are of the Peng family of Guanghan, you must have heard how masters typically treat young maids, right?"

"Hmph, that is only because my sister is ugly," Peng Heng sneered. "If she were even slightly better-looking, would you still be such a gentleman?"

Wei Ba paused, feeling that Peng Heng had a point. If not for the birthmark on her face, he might indeed have taken her to bed; it was hard to say. He nodded. "Fine, I will concede that you have a point. However, you overestimate the protective value of that mark. I kept her a virgin not entirely because of it, but because I wanted her to grow a bit sturdier before using her. Tell me, how long have you been in Hanzhong? Do you know what she was like in the supply camp?"

Peng Heng’s expression darkened, and he tightly compressed his thin lips.

"So, you do know," Wei Ba’s gaze turned icy. "Do you know that your mother died in that supply camp?"

Peng Heng remained silent, but the veins on his temples throbbed visibly.

"So you did know," Wei Ba curled his lip, his eyes full of contempt. "What a filial son, what a virtuous brother. Your mother died in the camp, and you were indifferent. Your sister served as a slave for months, and you did not even spare a glance. But the moment you needed to use her, you reappeared for a 'long-awaited reunion.' With that kind of character, what use are you besides acting as a dog? I regret this now; Xiaoyu will not have a good ending following a beast like you. Tell me, where is she? Send her back, and I will let you live."

"What do you know?!" Peng Heng suddenly exploded with rage. "I spent over a decade wandering. When I finally returned to Chengdu, my mother was already at death's door in the supply camp. It was not that I did not want to save her; it was that she did not want to be saved by me. She wanted me to keep my life to exact revenge!"

"Revenge?" Wei Ba sneered. "If you want revenge, you should dig up Huiling in Chengdu. What is the point of killing Zhuge Qiao and framing me? Your father was not killed by the Chancellor, and it has nothing to do with me or my father."

"It may have nothing to do with the Wei family, but it has everything to do with that 'Village Husband' Zhuge!" Peng Heng wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and, leaning against the wall, slowly stood up. He was in agonizing pain from the blows to his waist and abdomen; he did not know if his intestines were ruptured, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to moan. He shuffled to the table, sat down, and after catching his breath, hissed, "I came today to warn you: do not be deceived by that villager. You will end up dying for no reason while still regarding him as your benefactor."

"Is that so? I am all ears," Wei Ba said with a contemptuous laugh. "Though, I doubt you are that kind-hearted. Did Xiaoyu send you?"

Peng Heng looked up in surprise and blurted out, "How did you know?"

"Though Xiaoyu grew up in the supply camp and has a somewhat dark outlook, always assuming the worst of others, she is, at heart, a kind child. Her cynicism is merely a means of self-preservation, unlike some people who use any means necessary to harm others."

Peng Heng was stunned for a moment, then gave a bitter laugh. "I am starting to believe what you said earlier."

Wei Ba waved a hand. "I did not say that to make you believe anything. I do not need your belief. There are only two things now: send Xiaoyu back, and state your 'brilliant' insight. Once you are done, get out. The sight of you makes me sick."

"Do you think I want to see you?" Peng Heng’s temper flared again. "A surrendered captive, and you still want my sister to be your slave? Following me, life may be hard, but at least her life is not in danger. Following you, who knows how many days she has left?"

Wei Ba sneered. "I am a captive, unable to achieve glory or rise to power, but I can at least guarantee a life free from hunger and cold. And you? Always dabbling in these dark affairs, always walking by the river—it is impossible not to get your shoes wet. Can you know which day you will die in some dark alley?"

"Whether I die or not is none of your concern. As for you, you are not as safe as you think." Peng Heng waved his hand, signaling his followers to retreat, his eyes locked on Wei Ba. "Do you think you can fool everyone with a feigned surrender?"

The moment he saw this spy leader, Wei Ba had been on high alert, but hearing the words "feigned surrender" from his lips still made his heart tighten. He stared at Peng Heng for a long time before bursting into laughter. "Is that so? I am feigning surrender? Why don't you go to the General of Anxi’s mansion and report me? Why are you here talking nonsense with a man who has supposedly feigned surrender? Are you not afraid of inviting disaster upon yourself?"

"I do not report you not because you are flawless, but because no one would believe me." Peng Heng poured himself a cup of water and sipped it slowly. "But I want to warn you: if you truly think of this as a 'feigned surrender,' you are merely a piece on the board, far from being a player. The one truly playing the game is not you, but that 'Village Husband' Zhuge."

"I would love to be enlightened," Wei Ba said, offering a mocking bow.

"It is quite simple. Just think of Meng Da, and you will understand," Peng Heng set down the cup, his voice unhurried. Though his face was still pained, his expression had returned to calm. "Was Meng Da not shrewder than you? Yet he was played in the palm of the 'Village Husband's' hand and nearly lost his life. You came to Chang'an alone; what would it take to end you? It would be nothing more than sending another Guo Mo."