Chapter 64: The Coldness of Wei Wuji

Soon, Gu Mu marked out all the known Qin strongholds for Wei Wuji. When Wei Wuji picked it up, the densely packed tiny characters stabbed at his eyes like needles.

A rough count revealed that over four thousand Qin infiltrators had crossed over—twice the number of troops at Wei Wuji’s own command. Of these four thousand, nearly three hundred lurked within the city of Tielin, hidden in various civilian households, their aim nothing less than seizing the city itself.

But it was in the surrounding villages that the bulk of their numbers hid—fully three thousand seven hundred or more. These were the most difficult to root out, but fortunately for now, their forces were still scattered; the largest group was no more than two or three hundred together.

The order of urgency was clear. The first priority was to wipe out those within Tielin.

“Captain Liu!”

“Here!”

Wei Wuji picked up Gu Mu’s written confession, his expression severe. “Go immediately to the locations listed in this confession and eradicate every stronghold within the city!”

Liu Xuanba bowed. Taking the confession from Wei Wuji, he replied with iron resolve, “Your order will not be dishonored!”

“One more thing…”

Liu Xuanba, about to leave, halted and stood at attention, awaiting further instruction.

Wei Wuji’s eyes glinted with cold light as he spoke icily, “Leave no one alive.”

“Yes, sir!” Liu Xuanba answered at once, and seeing the ruthless expression on Wei Wuji’s face, could not help but shiver.

“Go.”

With that, Wei Wuji turned and walked to the chief seat.

He had his reasons for leaving no survivors; it was not mere bloodlust. First, he did not have the spare troops to guard so many Qin prisoners. Second, he firmly believed that to deal with enemies, one must uproot them entirely—leave even one behind and disaster could follow.

“Young master, I truly can no longer fathom you.”

At that moment, having watched Wei Wuji’s performance, Gu Mu could not resist speaking.

Wei Wuji was intrigued by this and decided to see how Gu Mu viewed him.

“What do you mean by that, Master Gu?” Even now, Wei Wuji addressed Gu Mu, who had lost all value, with courtesy.

Gu Mu straightened his robes and replied solemnly, “When I first met you, I saw you as frivolous and ostentatious, and thought you were nothing but an ignorant dandy.”

He shook his head, a hint of self-mockery in his voice. “All my life I have prided myself on knowing people, but with you, I have been confounded again and again.”

Wei Wuji said nothing and simply listened. It seemed this old man was about to praise him.

Gu Mu exhaled and continued, “Later, at that grand banquet for your officers here, you spoke with such passion and command of power at such a young age that I changed my mind, realizing you were no ordinary man.”

He spoke as though evaluating something that had nothing to do with himself, maintaining a calm composure. To any bystander unaware of the truth, these two would seem old friends, peers despite their age gap.

Wei Wuji’s expression grew grave, and he gave Gu Mu’s assessment his full attention.

Gu Mu went on, “After that, you became enamored with a woman…”

He glanced at Huan’er before continuing, “At that point, I could no longer see through you. Were you truly without great ambition, or a dragon lurking in the depths, your intentions unfathomable?”

Wei Wuji remained silent. None present could say if Gu Mu’s words were true, and that was precisely what Wei Wuji wanted—he would never let his subordinates glimpse his inner thoughts.

“But I was wrong. When it comes to women, you treat them no differently than you do anything else.” At this, Gu Mu cast another look at his own daughter, bloodied from a beating.

“In your eyes, women are only playthings—gentle words when you need them, cold indifference when you don’t…”

Wei Wuji knew he was referring to his shifting attitude toward Huan’er.

Gu Mu’s unchanging tone continued, “To remain unmoved by beauty, with a heart like iron, is the mark of a true hero.”

Wei Wuji was taken aback—was this truly him? After a moment’s reflection, he could only admit it inwardly.

But Gu Mu was not finished. “Yet I still underestimated you. You have not the slightest mercy for human life—anyone in your way is met only with death, and there is no bargaining.”

Thinking of his slaughtered kin and Wei Wuji’s earlier command to leave no survivors, Gu Mu was all the more awed by him.

“In these turbulent times, it is men like you who are truly fit for the age.”

Hearing such praise, Wei Wuji felt a secret satisfaction.

“If one day you become Marquis of Wei, the world will surely tremble.”

Though the words were pleasing, Wei Wuji still put on an angry face and said sternly, “Enough! My father is in his prime; I wish only to be a humble soldier at his side.”

Gu Mu smiled slightly, understanding Wei Wuji’s heart at a glance.

Listening to this assessment, Wei Wuji could not help but marvel; the one who understood him best was this very Gu Mu.

Wei Wuji fixed Gu Mu with his gaze for several moments before speaking slowly, “Gu Mu, I almost regret having to kill you.”

He reflected that, in this world, Gu Mu alone had truly understood him to the core.

But Gu Mu, hearing this, actually laughed. “Young master, you are a man of reason—so you will kill me.”

Wei Wuji said nothing, but silently agreed: precisely so.

The irreconcilable must be eliminated; he would never show mercy where none was due.

After all the ordeals he had faced in this world, Wei Wuji understood more than ever: only the victor has the right to pity others. The dead are nothing but bones and dust.

And he, Wei Wuji, was still far from being the victor. He was in no position to show pity.

“Outwardly flamboyant and careless, inwardly a master of power—decisive, ruthless.” Wei Wuji murmured to himself—this was Gu Mu’s judgment.

Even Wei Wuji himself had never seen himself so clearly. He had always thought his actions and choices were capricious, without particular design.

Only now did he have to admit that everything he did was premeditated, methodical. He was cold and self-serving, ruthless in pursuing his goals, clearing all obstacles in his path.

Whether sending his troops to fight the Chen army for his own merit, or playing to the crowd to win their loyalty—his actions, no matter how ridiculous they seemed, were effective.

At this moment, Wei Wuji’s gaze toward Gu Mu turned deadly. Such a man could not be allowed to live. To be understood so thoroughly was, to Wei Wuji, terrifying.

Wei Wuji said coldly, “Who are you, truly? A mere wealthy merchant could never have such insight.”

Since his death was assured, Gu Mu no longer cared and answered frankly, “I told you—I was responsible for passing intelligence to Qin.”

Wei Wuji still did not understand.

Gu Mu clarified, “I am from the Black Ice Platform—my knowledge is broader than most.”

A spy from the Qin’s Black Ice Platform! Wei Wuji recalled them from his memories, a formidable group indeed.

As Wei Wuji was about to press for more information, Gu Mu cut him off, “Young master, the Black Ice Platform communicates only one way—they assign me tasks, but I know nothing of them.”

Enough—this man was of no further use.

Seeing the change in Wei Wuji’s gaze, Gu Mu said, “I only hope you will keep your word.”

“Rest assured, you have helped me enough—I will not go back on my promise,” Wei Wuji replied, now able to afford magnanimity.

Gu Mu smiled calmly. “Then, young master, let us meet in the next life.”

Wei Wuji turned away and waved to his guards.

Taking the hint, the guards moved in and dragged Gu Mu and his daughter out.

Chaos erupted outside—angry shouts filled the air, but Wei Wuji paid no heed to Gu Mu’s voice.

Soon, the commotion faded.

Then Zheng Dali entered, saluted, and reported, “Young master, all members of the Gu family have been executed, except for three infants.”

Wei Wuji nodded, his back still turned. “Tomorrow morning, spread the word: the Gu family colluded with Qin and conspired to murder me. Their clan has been exterminated.”