Chapter One Hundred and Three: The Gathering of the Assassins, Part Two

At dinner, they ate the two enormous fish from earlier—delicious and fresh. The aunt’s cooking had improved; one fish was steamed, the other sweet and sour, catering to everyone’s taste.

Tonight, everyone was present at the meal, faces relaxed and smiling, as if the matter with the boss had been resolved and left behind, happiness evident in their demeanor.

Southeast, Northwest, Northeast, and Southwest wondered whether they should discuss the issue with the Mo family or simply talk privately with Qianyin.

Mo Lan clearly noticed something was off with the four of them. Didn’t they spend the day out enjoying their holiday? Why did they return preoccupied?

“If you have anything to say, just speak up. Don’t keep brooding like a silent gourd,” Mo Lan said, glancing around at all those present. The atmosphere was pleasant, but something felt amiss.

“We want to leave for a while,” Coldblooded said, not wanting Qianyin to feel burdened. He took Qianyin’s hand, and the two stood, quietly facing the assembled group. If she couldn’t speak, he would speak for her.

Qianyin knew she was once again faced with a crossroads. Mo Lan had never liked her choosing this path; she understood that well. She, too, wished Mo Lan wouldn’t pursue that line of work.

“Can we four leave with Sister Qianyin? I know we signed a contract, but we have things to take care of. Can we request leave?” East also stood up. Truthfully, they all wanted to go with Qianyin; after all, it was Qianyin who brought them into the world of assassins.

Everyone’s gaze rested on the six who had stood up. Some eyes held hesitation, others reluctance. They wondered why all six suddenly wanted to leave together.

“If you wish to go, then go. I have no objection,” Old Master Mo was the first to speak. He knew the four youngsters guarded them not entirely willingly. If they wanted leave, why deny it?

“Safe travels. Mind your safety,” Mo Lan responded without objection, though she was curious about their sudden departure. Since Qianyin gave no reason, it meant she couldn't share it.

Old Mo had expected resistance, thinking the others would oppose the departure of the four. Yet, seeing unanimous agreement, he stood up in alarm. “If you all leave, who will protect my father?”

Qianyin chose not to speak, leaving the matter to the four.

She thought perhaps she had caused them to lose their freedom. She had never promised to protect the Mo family—this wasn’t her responsibility and didn’t require her intervention.

“Bodyguards elsewhere can request leave; why can’t we take leave as your family’s bodyguards?” North’s voice was chilly, a hint of displeasure. Since everyone had agreed, why did Old Mo have to object?

Did he really think a contract could bind the four of them here? The man was laughable; if he angered them, North would be the first to eliminate him.

“Don’t be upset. My father didn’t mean it that way,” Mo Fan, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in to preserve harmony. If things soured, how could the Mo family trust the four in the future?

The four remained silent, their eyes fixed on Qianyin. If she asked them to stay, they would do so without hesitation, foregoing Ximen City.

Qianyin sensed their gaze but said nothing, quietly sitting down and carefully tasting the fish they had caught. “The flavor is truly excellent. Fish from running waters are fresher than those raised elsewhere.”

Coldblooded sat down as well. Nothing here concerned him. He came and went as he pleased; the Mo family was no more than a hotel to him. If unwelcome, he would simply not return.

Mo Lan didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, the Mo family was safe now, and there was no need to keep the four confined here. Yet her father’s worries were understandable—the boss’s matter was not fully resolved.

Old Master Mo looked at Elder Xian, who shook his head, indicating it was none of his concern.

Old Master Mo realized they awaited Qianyin’s word, but she had handed the matter back to them, so he had to handle it. He coughed, then spoke sternly, “Let it be settled. Southeast, Northwest, Northeast, Southwest, you may leave with Qianyin for a while. We’ll take care of ourselves. Stay safe.”

“Dad—” Old Mo protested, knowing his work kept him too busy to stay home and guard the elders. He didn’t want anything to happen to them, and couldn’t easily find such skilled protectors again.

“Enough. Don't say another word. For now, I decide. Eat,” Old Master Mo said, slapping the table with authority. As expected, the four immediately sat down, obediently eating.

Old Mo had no choice but to sit as well, suddenly finding the meal tasteless.

Mo Lan played the peacemaker, placing a piece of fish into everyone’s bowl, wishing for harmony and hoping no ill feelings lingered. Though Old Mo’s words might have been excessive, his intentions were for the family’s sake; he simply overlooked others’ feelings.

Han, meanwhile, sat atop a tall rock, quietly watching the night. Cold wind brushed his face, stinging his cheeks with force.

But he felt no pain; he, too, had received the news and was preparing to go to Ximen City. Like Qianyin, he wondered why there was a sudden gathering.

Many assassins and bosses would converge—would there be unexpected developments? Would Qianyin go, and would the boss harm her? Yet the boss had never mentioned Ximen City.

The Flower Thief approached Han, sensing his elder brother’s troubles. He was only a subordinate, unable to interfere, so he simply sat nearby in silent companionship.

“Will you go to Ximen City?” Han, with no one else to talk to, started a casual conversation with the Flower Thief. He wasn’t planning to sleep that night, intending to set out for Ximen City at dawn.

The Flower Thief shook his head in surprise, “This concerns the world of assassins; how could I be involved? I’m just an ordinary flower thief.”

Han agreed, saying no more, quietly watching the darkness all around. Only the moon above illuminated the scene, casting a pale glow. Coldblooded was truly fortunate, always able to stay by Qianyin’s side. If roles and times were exchanged, would the outcome be different?

“Don’t dwell on it, big brother. Get some rest. The boss actually likes you; just do your best for him,” said the Flower Thief, feeling compelled to speak up for the boss, hoping they wouldn’t part ways.

Han understood the boss’s motives well, far better than the Flower Thief’s naïve perspective. The boss treated Han well only because he was useful.