Lu Chuan's expression subtly changed as he recalled the body in the snow outside the county city not long ago.

  "Oh?"

  "You really stumbled upon such a great fortune?"

  "What about the woman's appearance and figure?"

  Wen Chaoshen gave a thumbs-up.

  "In a word, stunning!"

  Lu Chuan was amused by Wen Chaoshen's smug expression. He took a sip of wine, paused briefly, and then spoke in an almost promising tone:

  "How about this, if you describe the woman's appearance and features in detail, I'll let you leave the Mandarin Duck Tower alive today. How does that sound?"

  Wen Chaoshen's eyes lit up, and he tentatively asked:

  "Does Mr. Lu also like this type?"

  Lu Chuan raised his cup, his eyes filled with deep meaning.

  "Very much... like."

  Wen Chaoshen pondered for a moment, biting his lip in frustration:

  "I'm literate, but because I was pyful in my youth, I don't have much knowledge. Plus, it was dark that night, and there was no light outside, so I didn't see clearly. How about this, Mr. Lu, could you get some paper and ink, and I'll draw it for you?"

  Lu Chuan nodded, called over a girl, gave her some money, and asked her to fetch paper and ink. The Mandarin Duck Tower often hosted self-procimed literati and schors, so paper and ink were readily avaible. The girl soon returned with the materials, and Wen Chaoshen, without hesitation, began to sketch from some peculiar images in his mind.

  Since ancient times, calligraphy and painting have been intertwined, both testing the strength and imagination of the hand and wrist, essentially a pursuit of beauty. Therefore, most who study calligraphy also have some skill in painting.

  Erotic drawings? A piece of cake.

  Wen Chaoshen didn't draw the facial features, but with strokes that varied in weight, he soon completed a sensual erotic painting. The girl serving nearby gnced at it, her cheeks turning crimson as she bit her lip, wondering how this guest could draw such a thing in public.

  After finishing, just as Wen Chaoshen was about to hand the painting to Lu Chuan, a limping woman suddenly entered from outside the hall. She wore a simple light green dress, her sleeves rolled up at the wrists. The surrounding guests occasionally gnced at her, assuming she was a servant working in the Mandarin Duck Tower, and paid her no mind. The woman walked straight to Wen Chaoshen, gnced at the erotic painting, and grabbed him by the nape, lifting him like a chick.

  "Out here fooling around instead of going home at night?"

  A Shui's cold voice echoed in Wen Chaoshen's ear, and at that moment, his tense heart finally rexed.

  With an embarrassed expression, he introduced her to the slightly surprised Lu Chuan:

  "This is my... sister."

  Wen Chaoshen had instinctively wanted to say 'wife' to cover A Shui's identity, but recalling her cold gaze when she killed, he changed the st word to 'sister.'

  Though he and A Shui had shared life-and-death experiences and drinks, Wen Chaoshen always felt a distance from this mysterious female warrior.

  A careless word could lead to a lifetime of silence.

  "Hurry home, and if you come here to fool around again, I'll tell our parents, and see if they won't break your legs!"

  A Shui pyed along with Wen Chaoshen, pulling him away. He turned his head, waving the erotic painting at the frowning Lu Chuan:

  "Mr. Lu, the painting, the painting..."

  Lu Chuan watched him, not taking it, and only after the two disappeared outside the hall did he turn to Qian Lv beside him:

  "Why didn't you stop them?"

  Qian Lv shook his head.

  "My sword isn't with me, and that woman is an exceptional master. If I acted rashly, I might harm you in the fight."

  Lu Chuan squinted:

  "In such a small pce, a complete nobody has such a formidable sister, and even someone like you can't handle her barehanded?"

  "It doesn't add up..."

  Qian Lv hesitated for a moment, then said:

  "If you insist, it can make sense."

  "That kid has no dantian and can't cultivate. No matter how powerful his family is, they can't help him."

  "As for that woman, though she breathes internally, she's like a hidden dragon, with an aura as deep as an abyss. Her skills shouldn't be inferior to mine."

  "This southern journey, as instructed, my main task is to ensure Mr. Lu's safety."

  Lu Chuan looked at the dishes on the table, touched the poison in his sleeve, and after a long time, shook his head slightly, seemingly losing interest, and got up to pay and leave.

  ...

  On the road, A Shui and Wen Chaoshen braved the wind and snow together. He said to her:

  "I guessed right."

  "There's indeed something behind those fake letters. This Lu Chuan today came because of them!"

  A Shui, walking beside him, focused on the erotic painting in Wen Chaoshen's hand, not responding.

  Wen Chaoshen continued talking to himself:

  "The person you asked me to investigate is named Wang Kun. He has a son named Wang Ye, who joined the army seventeen years ago and hasn't returned home since. Only letters are sent, one each year, and they're not written by the same person. Although the handwriting is simir, you can spot the differences..."

  As he spoke, they entered a small alley. Suddenly, A Shui grabbed his colr, turned him around, and pressed him against the wall. She drew a hidden hatchet from his waist and held it to his neck.

  Wen Chaoshen was startled by the sudden move, leaning against the cold wall, motionless.

  "Wha-what do you mean?"

  He asked.

  A Shui's voice was cold as frost:

  "When did you see it?"

  Wen Chaoshen was puzzled by her question, quickly recalling in his mind to ensure he hadn't wronged A Shui, and then he replied with more confidence:

  "See what?"

  Seeing his expression, A Shui leaned in closer:

  "The mole on my chest, when did you see it?"

  Wen Chaoshen was dumbfounded by her question, and after a few breaths, he understood what she meant. His mouth twitched unnaturally:

  "Madam, I just drew randomly. He wanted a picture, so I had to stall for time until someone came to save me, adding details to make it more convincing..."

  "And even if I wanted to peek at you, there should be an appropriate time. Usually, I can't even get close to you without you noticing. The only possibility was that night when you were unconscious, but you were dying then, with blood all over your chest. If I had the leisure for such thoughts, do you think you'd still be alive?"

  They locked eyes, and Wen Chaoshen's gaze didn't waver.

  He truly hadn't seen it.

  Finally, A Shui released his colr, returned the hatchet to his waist, and turned to walk ahead.

  "I'll trust you this once."

  kant202323