"Of course. Then I'll take the liberty of calling you Wanníng."
Mo Rou didn't speak right away. She lifted the teapot and poured herself a cup of tea.
Song Wanníng wasn't in a hurry either. A smile lingered on her lips.
In the end, Mo Rou couldn't hold back. She was too curious as to why Song Wanníng had come looking for her so suddenly.
"Wanníng, you had Patriarch Song send me a message and specifically invited me here. I assume it's not just for tea, is it?"
Her gaze was sharp as she stared at Song Wanníng, eager to uncover the motive behind this visit.
"It's a long story," Song Wanníng sighed softly. "You've probably heard about the recent beast tide. There was a traitor within the Song Clan. We nearly lost many disciples because of it.
That disciple later self-destructed his soul. We never found the true culprit. But during the investigation, we uncovered something... quite interesting. I wonder if Aunt Mo would be interested in hearing about it?"
Her gaze held a subtle, layered meaning that made Mo Rou's heart skip a beat.
Especially upon hearing about a traitor, an instinctive unease welled up inside her.
She nodded solemnly. "I'm listening."
"Yesterday, I saw the Mo Clan's merfolk..."
Song Wanníng trailed off mid-sentence.
Sometimes, saying too much made one seem untrustworthy. Besides, this knowledge came from her previous life. Strictly speaking, she had no evidence. The more she said, the more likely she'd slip up.
It was better to let others draw their own conclusions.
As expected, Mo Rou was startled. "There's a problem with the merfolk?!"
Mo Wentian's people had indeed interfered midway, but both she and her second brother had examined the creature carefully. They hadn't found anything suspicious.
Otherwise, they wouldn't have dared keep her.
Song Wanníng remained silent, still smiling with mysterious composure.
The more she kept quiet, the heavier Mo Rou's heart felt. She dropped the friendly tone and switched to a more formal, guarded one.
"Why are you telling me this? What do you want in return?"
She didn't believe that a childhood meeting alone was enough for Song Wanníng to risk being entangled in the Mo Clan's internal strife just to share this information.
Song Wanníng suddenly leaned forward.
"What I want is simple: when the Song Clan needs support in the future, I hope the Mo Clan will stand with us."
Mo Rou frowned, pondering for a moment. "For just this one message, you expect our clan to choose a side? Aren't you asking too much?"
A single tip-off wasn't enough to shift the balance. They were already wary of Mo Wentian. The information was valuable, yes, but far from decisive.
This girl wasn't as experienced as her father.
Mo Rou's tone carried a veiled sharpness. Song Wanníng's expression didn't change. She simply leaned in closer, flashing a playful smile.
"What if I told you I could help you get rid of that troublesome thorn in your side?"
Then she leaned back into her chair, her posture calm and assured.
But her words exploded like a depth charge in Mo Rou's heart.
Her pupils shrank. She asked in disbelief, "You mean... him?"
Mo Wentian was a peak Nascent Soul cultivator who had been at that stage for over fifty years. He was on the verge of breaking through to Divine Transformation. There was no way a newly advanced cultivator like Song Wanníng could match him.
Even if she had extraordinary talent, the higher the cultivation level, the harder it was to determine life or death in a fight.
Mo Rou didn't believe Song Wanníng could kill Mo Wentian.
So she quickly composed herself. "Let's not joke around, Song Daoyou."
"Patriarch Mo only needs to answer me this: if I can do it, what will your Mo Clan choose?"
Seeing how serious Song Wanníng was, a spark of hope flickered in Mo Rou's heart.
Mo Wentian had been a cancer in her life for two centuries, tormenting her endlessly.
If he could truly be removed, then siding with the Song Clan... why not?
The Song Clan was respectable. A win-win alliance held no disadvantages.
"If you really can do it, the Mo Clan will not stand by."
"Good."
That was exactly what Song Wanníng wanted to hear.
Mo Rou was known for keeping her word. If she promised something, she would not go back on it.
Still, to be safe, the two of them swore a heart demon oath.
After all, people changed. No one could predict the future of an alliance.
Only a heart demon oath offered true assurance.
That night, Song Wanníng infiltrated the Mo Clan disguised as one of its disciples.
To avoid suspicion, Mo Rou had sent a disciple out to the inn. When that disciple returned, they had become Song Wanníng.
With her Divine Transformation cultivation and a face-altering artifact, no one could tell she was in disguise.
Thus, she entered the Mo Clan smoothly.
In Mo Rou's hall, the merfolk was kept locked in a room.
She could not speak. Her eyes shimmered with mesmerizing color.
Every tear she shed became a pearl of great value in the mortal world.
Mo Rou saw Song Wanníng observing the merfolk closely and grew more curious. What was wrong with the creature?
But Song Wanníng said nothing, so Mo Rou didn't ask. She just kept watching the merfolk.
The creature merely crouched pitifully on the floor, listless, as if she'd already accepted her fate and lost the strength to resist. Even with her spiritual sense sweeping inside and out, Mo Rou found nothing amiss.
"Patriarch, the Third Elder seeks your audience."
A disciple entered to report. Before Mo Rou could answer, a tall figure strode into the room.
Mo Wentian stood over six-foot-three, muscular and broad-shouldered. His rugged features and deep frown lines spoke of a bad temper.
He marched in aggressively. "Patriarch, I heard Second Elder acquired a merfolk. Might I have a look?"
As he spoke, he walked straight over to Mo Rou and peered into the room where the merfolk was kept.
Standing beside Mo Rou, Song Wanníng could feel the shift in her emotions.
Mo Rou's hatred for Mo Wentian was bone-deep, to the point of physical revulsion.
Even just seeing him made her feel ill.
She glanced at Mo Wentian. His expression as he looked at the merfolk was hard to read.
"What brings you here, Third Elder?"
She fixed her gaze on him, worried he might recognize Song Wanníng. Fortunately, he seemed entirely focused on the merfolk.
She exhaled quietly, though her face remained grim.
"I came to ask if you might hand the merfolk over to me."
Mo Wentian's grin was arrogant and unrestrained, showing no regard for Mo Rou at all.
"Heh. Third Elder, you have no old injuries. What would you want with a merfolk?"
Mo Rou's tone darkened. "You know full well I suffer from lingering injuries. You should be understanding. Isn't that right?"
Her words instantly ignited a tense atmosphere between them.
Standing to the side, Song Wanníng quietly lowered her head, minimizing her presence.