Outside the pavilion, the head of the Han Family was busy disciplining the ill-mannered disciple of a friendly sect.
Inside the pavilion, a negotiation was officially underway.
"Fairy Murong, my reinforcements have arrived. No matter what your plans are, I'm afraid things are bound not to go your way today. How about we strike a deal instead?"
Han Mo remained standing in the exact same spot, but compared to his earlier apprehension, he now appeared entirely composed.
"What kind of deal?"
"I will keep your true identity a secret. In return, you must step forward and help me set the record straight: explain that today I sincerely hosted Murong Ying, the inner sect true disciple of the Star River Sword Sect, that the two of us enjoyed a delightful conversation, and that absolutely nothing improper took place."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because our goals are aligned."
"Aligned?"
"That's right. You must have some ulterior motive for joining the Sword Sect. I have one too—no, to be precise, my father does. How's that? Revealing such a deeply guarded secret to you should be proof enough of my sincerity!"
"..."
"If you disagree, you are entirely free to leave. I couldn't stop you anyway. It's just that your undercover mission would likely come to an abrupt end, and you'd probably face punishment upon returning to your sect!"
"Fine, it's a deal."
Without a moment's hesitation, Murong Ying quickly agreed to Han Mo's proposal.
"I'll make my terms clear upfront, though: even against a Golden Core Stage cultivator, I am confident I can escape with my life intact. So you had better not try to trick me, otherwise..."
In truth, ever since Han Mo had orchestrated a way to get Lin Feng out of the way, Murong Ying's intent to kill him had already faded.
On one hand, this fellow Han Mo had genuinely piqued her intense curiosity.
On the other hand, as the Saintess of the Yin-Yang Hehe Sect, she naturally had no reason to fear a mere Han Family.
Yet, if she were to kill Han Mo, she would most likely never be able to return to the Star River Sword Sect; her time as an undercover agent would be over, forcing her to return to her original sect.
That was hardly an outcome she wished to see.
So, even then, she had already been plotting how to clean up the mess—ideally by making this brat keep her secret.
Such an outcome could be considered a win-win.
Just like that, the first guaranteed-death ending after his transmigration was successfully averted, thanks to a few unexpected twists and Han Mo's quick thinking.
...
One hour later, at the Han residence in Yifeng City.
Unsurprisingly, Lin Feng received a brutal beating from Han Feiyu.
Naturally, the head of the Han Family didn't harbor any intent to kill; he merely broke a few ribs—ahem, simply disciplined the fellow and chased him off.
Still, Han Mo knew that even if his father had intended to kill him, ending Lin Feng's life would be exceedingly difficult. After all, the man was a Child of Destiny.
What exactly was a Child of Destiny? Challenging opponents across realms was as easy as eating and drinking for them, and their life-saving trump cards were as numerous as hairs on an ox. Killing such a person through conventional methods was virtually impossible.
Therefore, Han Mo didn't force the issue. Being able to break a certain-death situation today was already more than enough.
You have to eat your meals one bite at a time, and walk your path one step at a time.
"Heir Apparent, the Master is waiting for you in the main hall. Do be careful, he's currently in quite a foul mood."
At that moment, Han Mo was following Han Cheng, the estate steward, all the way to the main hall of the Han Family. Facing the young master he had watched grow up since childhood, Han Cheng couldn't help offering a word of caution.
"Uncle Han, I understand. You go ahead and attend to your duties; I'll handle things myself."
Han Mo nodded, well aware that he was about to face his villainous father, yet he felt not a shred of anxiety.
Although he hadn't inherited many memories from the original owner after transmigrating, his familiarity with the plot meant he already knew precisely what kind of personality his "old man" possessed.
"Commit murder and arson, Li Wuming; universally revered, the Han Family Head."
Such was the verdict passed on Han Feiyu in the game. While the description carried a hint of the game developers joking around, it also offered an objective assessment of Han Feiyu's character.
To put it simply, he was an old schemer—ahem...
After Han Cheng departed, Han Mo did not rush into the main hall. Instead, he waved his hand to circulate his energy, sensing the gaseous spiritual power flowing through his meridians, and then shrugged with helpless resignation.
"Only the Qi Condensation 8th Layer!"
As expected, he was still far too weak.
Starting out as a villain, his cultivation level was not only incomparable to the protagonist's, but it even fell short of Han Cheng, the steward of the Han estate.
With cultivation like this, forget accomplishing anything ambitious—if he ran into a situation like today's again, holding onto his own life would probably be a struggle.
He simply had to find a way to grow stronger.
And as for getting stronger, there were currently only two viable paths. The first was to rely on that bizarre strategy guide.
However, he still hadn't figured out how to use the thing, so he would just have to wait until he had time to study it later.
The second option was to make full use of the Han Family's resources.
With these thoughts in mind, Han Mo stepped forward and walked toward the main hall.
The luxurious hall had its double doors half-open. A middle-aged man with a square face and a wisp of a goat-goatee on his chin sat in the master's seat at the center of the hall with his eyes closed.
The man was neither too tall nor too short, neither too fat nor too thin, and looked thoroughly ordinary. Aside from the goat-goatee on his chin, there was nothing particularly remarkable about his facial features.
Though he had already caught a glimpse of him outside the tavern earlier, seeing him again left no profound impression on Han Mo; he was the type of person you would forget the moment you looked away.
Truly utterly unremarkable. Was this supposed to be the hallmark demeanor of a high-level expert surnamed Han?
Han Mo inwardly complained, but outwardly he quickly bowed in greeting:
"Father, your son has arrived."
Even though he had known the moment Han Mo stepped inside, Han Feiyu waited until the young man spoke before slowly opening his eyes and saying expressionlessly:
"Mm. As for today's events, I have already heard about them from Murong Ying of the Star River Sword Sect.
You hosted her today simply to converse, drink wine, and enjoy the scenery, and the two of you committed no improper acts whatsoever. Is that so?"
It seemed Murong Ying really did keep her promise and helped him cover up the truth.
Hearing Han Feiyu's words, Han Mo quietly let out a breath of relief.
"Indeed. Fairy Murong and I hit it off immediately, conversing most happily. It was much like Bo Ya meeting Ziqi—high mountains and flowing waters, having found a true kindred spirit."
Since the other party had already fulfilled her end of the bargain, Han Mo naturally had to play along.
This was also a good start. Through this, he could gradually shake off his "profligate" reputation.
After all, "profligate scions" were generally those brainless villains in web novels who courted death by provoking the protagonist. If he wanted to survive, shedding this terrible reputation was of the utmost importance.
Of course, this single incident alone wasn't enough to completely wipe away his long-standing reputation as a wastrel or overturn everyone's impressions of him, but it was more than enough to quell Han Feiyu's anger.
Originally, that was what Han Mo had thought.
However...
"Absolute nonsense! You unfilial wretch, get down on your knees this instant! Let me ask you: who told you not to lay a hand on Murong Ying today?"
"This son was in the wrong; Murong Ying, she..."
Thinking Han Feiyu had somehow sensed that something was amiss, Han Mo hurriedly admitted fault, intending to confess a portion of the truth. As for Murong Ying's true identity, he would just have to see how much his old man had already guessed!
Yet, halfway through his sentence, he suddenly realized something was terribly wrong.
What? *Not* to lay a hand on her?
Ah... wait. Why *should* I have laid a hand on Murong Ying?
"I have always tacitly allowed you to squander our wealth, tacitly allowed you to play the profligate. In the past, you've done a fairly decent job of it—at least in Yifeng City, your notorious reputation is known to all.
Yet this time, your actions have sorely disappointed your father! You had already slipped her the drug, and a completely unclad beauty was lying right before you, yet you didn't even touch her. Are you even a man?!"
???
Wait, this... how does this differ at all from the script we agreed on?!