“How could he still be alive if a fifth rank cultivator wanted him dead?” Chu Tiesheng remarked contemptuously.

This question was shared by everyone in the room. Seeing that everyone’s eyes were on him, Zu An responded slowly, “Her stomach suddenly started hurting halfway through, or else I would really have been dead.”

Hurting?

Everyone was stunned. They hadn’t expected such a childish excuse. For a fifth rank cultivator to fall victim to a stomach ache in the midst of a battle and fail to kill a mere mortal—no, someone even weaker than an ordinary mortal—was simply inconceivable. 

Doubt was plastered on everyone’s faces, except for Chu Chuyan’s. “I don’t think he’s lying.”

The other clan members looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

Qin Wanru frowned, wondering if her daughter was speaking up for Zu An out of consideration for their marriage.

“I realized some time ago that there was something wrong with Snow. She hid it well, but after all the time we have spent together, it was inevitable that she would let things slip now and then. I kept it a secret so that I could investigate who was directing her.” 

Her words were slow and unhurried, but her leisurely and composed manner seemed appropriate to the situation at hand.

She continued, “However, I don’t understand why she would make a move on you.” She turned a questioning look at Zu An. 

“I don’t understand it either,” replied Zu An innocently. Had I known that you weren’t the one she was working for, I would have exposed her right from the start. I wouldn’t have had to feel so jittery around her for so long, then.

Her words surprised those present, but also cleared up their doubts about Zu An’s story. They were amazed by how well Snow had concealed her identity, and were puzzled as to who the mastermind behind her could be. 

Chu Zhongtian silenced the buzz in the room with a cough, then turned to Zu An. “You should recuperate from your injuries first. I’ll assign a few personal guards to protect you. We can’t allow such an incident to happen again.”

“Personal guards? How personal are they going to be?” 

Zu An’s mind drifted of its own accord to the beautiful bodyguards he had seen in dramas in his previous life. 

Chu Zhongtian calmly gestured to the buff men standing at attention by the doorway, shattering whatever unrealistic thoughts had formed in Zu An’s mind. He left Zu An with some consoling words, then gestured to the others to leave the room with him and to let Zu An get some rest. 

Chu Huanzhao stayed on, reluctant to leave. She was bugging Zu An over the money he had won in the casino, and was aggrieved that he hadn’t brought her along for something that fun.

Qin Wanru had already walked out of the room, but then noticed her second daughter was conspicuously absent. She turned back around and saw Chu Huanzhao acting chummy with Zu An. Her frown returned and she bellowed, “Huanzhao, let’s go!”

You have successfully trolled Qin Wanru for 3 Rage points! … 3... 3… 

Zu An was amused by how hot-tempered his mother-in-law was. Are you afraid that I would steal your second daughter too? What are you so worried about? Is it because I’m too good looking?

Chu Huanzhao reluctantly pulled herself away from the bedside at her mother’s insistence. Chu Chuyan was the last one to leave, a brooding look on her face.

Once everyone was gone, Zu An took a look at the Rage points he had earned—6,929. Of course, most of them had been from Snow.

He didn’t rush into drawing the lottery this time around. He knew, based on previous experience, that he would not be able to draw anything worthwhile with such a paltry amount of Rage points. It was probably best to wait until he had saved up more. Perhaps it might even improve his luck.

Anyway, given that he had just drawn an item in his last sitting, there was no way he would draw another one so soon. At least that was what his gambler’s instinct told him.

Thinking of this made him deeply regret using the Knock-You-Up Eyes so quickly. It’s all Snow’s fault! I really need to give her a good walloping in the future!

This brought him to another extremely important question—his wealth. He was far too rich at the moment for his own safety!

How much was seven-and-a-half million silver taels? Even considering the whole wide world, there were probably fewer than a handful of people who were richer than him.

Unknown to Zu An, the only reason why the situation had turned out the way it had was because the Silverhook Casino had intentionally removed the betting limits in order to reel him in. Had it been any other customer, the casino would have prohibited such a huge bet on the outcomes with high payouts. 

Ultimately, Zu An’s reputation as a wastrel played to his advantage. The casino thought that it could take advantage of him, but they had ended up doing themselves in instead.

Coming back to the present and to Zu An. The earlier fight with Snow had highlighted a major consequence of his victory at the casino—he was no longer able to use the Heiress’ Ball of Delights!

One of the requirements of the Heiress’ Ball of Delights was that his assailant had to be a woman richer than him. Now that he had a promissory note worth seven-and-a-half million silver taels on him, there was no way of satisfying this requirement.

The loss of this trump card could prove fatal. As important as money was to him, he treasured his life far more.

If he had been able to cash out the seven-and-a-half million silver taels, he could have recruited a group of top-notch experts to protect him. Unfortunately, all he had was a promise written on a piece of paper, which complicated matters significantly.

He had to think of a way to make himself poorer!

While it was unlikely for him to be able to recover the full amount of the debt, the note itself still had value. Just throwing it away was not an option, as he would lose the massive amount of leverage he had over the Plum Blossom Sect. It would be best if he could get something out of it somehow.

Zu An racked his brain for ideas. He thought of ways in which characters in the movies squandered their money. He came up with plenty of them, but shot them down one after another. Most of the ideas were impossible to execute in this world.

As he stressed over this problem, a shadow suddenly loomed over him. A hunchbacked figure had materialized by the side of his bed, giving him the shock of his life. His head jerked up, but it was Old Mi.

“Elder, you keep appearing out of nowhere. One of these days, I’ll really suffer a heart attack.”

As Zu An said those words, he glanced at the doorway discreetly. Chu Zhongtian should have assigned some guards to protect him. How did they still allow Old Mi to slip in?

“Don’t bother looking. Those children can’t possibly sense my presence,” said Old Mi, his face carrying a hint of smugness.

Zu An’s expression turned bitter. “It looks like the Chu Estate is really lacking in talent. I heard them talking about how their guards were carefully selected but groomed, but it seems like it was all talk.”

Old Mi sniffed at Zu An’s grumbling. “What do you know? Just because they aren’t able to stop me doesn’t mean that they are helpless against other intruders. Those guards are actually quite decent. They would be enough to ensure your safety in Brightmoon City. Even if Snow returns, she won’t be able to harm you as long as you are under their protection. At the very least, they’ll be enough to buy time for the arrival of reinforcements.”

Zu An sighed in relief. Finally, he could reap the benefits of having powerful backers. This is how it’s supposed to be. As a young master of a ducal clan, I shouldn’t need to deal with my own enemies personally. I should command an army of guards ready to wallop anyone who stands in my way!

“I hadn’t expected something to happen right after I left. You need to be more careful in the future. Don’t go around causing trouble,” instructed Old Mi.

Zu An’s heart warmed. He didn’t know Old Mi had been so concerned about his safety. “Thank you for your concern, elder. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Old Mi nodded in reply, and shuffled over to feel Zu An’s pulse. “Your injuries are extensive, but it’s fortunate that you were treated promptly, and there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage. Also, it seems like your cultivation has risen quite a bit due to this encounter too.”

Zu An hadn’t been able to check on his own condition earlier. A quick inspection showed that the second formation had been completely filled, and the third formation was around one-third full. He had reached the third step of the third rank.

He had to eat fifty-eight Ki Fruits just to fill the second formation by two-thirds, and the third formation was bound to require more—to be exact, a hundred and forty-four of them. That equated to 150,000 Rage points or so.

So far, the most he had earned in a single setting was around 60,000 to 70,000 Rage points, and that was when he had the benefit of a crowd around him. Such opportunities were rare, and he didn’t have the confidence to pull them off often.

On the other hand, the injuries he suffered from fighting with Snow had, through the effects of the Phoenix Nirvana Sutra, raised his cultivation by the equivalent of eighty Ki Fruits—equivalent to roughly 80,000 Rage points. That was more than the total amount of Rage points he had earned in a single event previously.

Of course, using such a situation to raise his cultivation was like walking on a tightrope between two tall mountains—it was simply too dangerous! All it took was a moment of carelessness for him to fall to his death!

This was real life, not some video game. He couldn’t just set a save point and restart if things went awry. Relying on the Phoenix Nirvana Sutra to raise his cultivation was asking for trouble. At the very least, he wouldn’t resort to it unless he was really desperate.

Old Mi relayed some additional instructions to Zu An before leaving the room. Oddly enough, even though Zu An’s eyes had been fixed on the frail old man all this time, he realized that he wasn’t sure how the latter had even walked out of the room. He was right to treat Old Mi as an unfathomable expert.

Zu An was left alone in the room once more. He turned his full attention back toward how to squander off the fortune he had just earned.

… 

Meanwhile, in a courtyard several li away, the night was split by the sound of a teacup shattering on the ground.

A beautiful figure rolled around restlessly on her bed, grabbing her blanket tightly. Her hair was matted with sweat, and her maidenly face was contorted in pain. “Zu An, I swear that I’m going to take your life if that’s the last thing I’ll do!”

This woman was none other than Snow.

She hadn’t dared to return to her rooms in the Chu Estate. She knew that her actions had alarmed the members of the Chu clan, and the pain in her abdomen was overwhelming. Instead, she fled to a residence she had prepared beforehand.

She had been so confident that the assassination would go smoothly, but somehow that scum had managed to best her! What sorcery did that bastard cast on me to make me suffer such unbearable pain?

She half-suspected that she’d unknowingly sustained a hidden injury. It was hard to believe that Zu An had the ability to pull off something like this.

Regardless of the true cause, the fact remained that she had failed, and it was safe to assume that her identity as a spy in the Chu clan had been revealed. She had put an unimaginable amount of effort into infiltrating the Chu clan, but she’d ended up failing her mission thanks to a mere ant. Her frustration at this turn of events drove her to the brink of insanity.

After what seemed like an eternity, the unbearable pain suddenly vanished without a trace. It wasn’t a gradual reduction, but an instantaneous disappearance.

Just a second ago, Snow had been writhing in pain, but in the next moment, the pain had miraculously subsided.

She initially thought that it was a mere hallucination, but when the pain didn’t return after some time, her heart was finally put at ease.

So, what in the world was that?

Snow rose from her bed and wiped off the sweat trickling down her face. She felt incredibly fatigued, and her clothes were completely soaked.

She quickly grabbed a new set of clothes and changed into it. She reminded herself to visit a physician for a thorough check-up, just in case she had been inflicted with some sort of weird disease.

Right now, however, she had something more important to attend to. Once she was done changing, she hurriedly left the residence.

… 

In the headquarters of the Plum Blossom Sect, Mei Chaofeng’s eyes widened in astonishment after listening to Snow’s story. “What? The assassination failed even though you had personally made a move?”