Number Fifteen Is Actually Li Sanshun!

The assassin stopped breathing the moment he finished speaking.

Li Sanshun loosened his collar and lowered his head to inspect the man's molars. The poison pill had been hidden deep, coated in a thin layer of wax. Once bitten through, the toxin would flow straight down the throat into the stomach; there was no time to save him.

"The fifteenth copy..."

Gu Qinghe repeated the words and ordered the law enforcement disciples to search the body.

They dismantled his belt, soles, and hair crown, even slicing open the linings of his clothes. Aside from a few fire talismans and two bottles of detoxification pills, there was nothing else.

Sun Erhe, leaning against the stretcher, twitched when he heard those words.

"The people who captured me last night also mentioned fifteen."

Gu Qinghe turned to him. "What did they say?"

"When they shoved Zhao Chong into the iron crate, someone asked what to do about the fifteenth copy. The leader told him to shut up and said that matter wasn't their concern."

Sun Erhe recalled for a moment, then added, "I couldn't hear clearly if they said fifteenth copy or number fifteen."

At the other end of the stretcher, Zhao Chong suddenly began to cough.

Black fluid flowed from the corners of his mouth, mixed with undissolved breath-closing powder. He had just regained consciousness and was struggling to grab the hem of Gu Qinghe's robe.

"What he said... it wasn't an object."

Gu Qinghe leaned down and held him still. "Do you know what the fifteenth copy refers to?"

Zhao Chong saw Li Sanshun standing nearby and pulled his hand back instantly.

"Take me away."

"Answer first."

"They have people here. In the Medicine Peak, the Internal Affairs Hall, and the Law Enforcement Hall. If we stay on North Mountain, none of us will survive."

The expressions of the law enforcement disciples turned grim.

Gu Qinghe did not press him further and turned to issue orders.

"Zhou Yuan, seal the Herb Garden. Register every servant who participated in the burning one by one. Zhao Rui, take two teams to investigate the fire order. I want a sketch of the disciple who delivered it by tonight."

"Take all the corpses back to the Law Enforcement Hall. If anyone dares to touch them, detain them immediately."

The Medicine Peak Deacon tried to speak, but Gu Qinghe threw the forged fire order in front of him.

"Two witnesses were almost burned to death on North Mountain. If you still want to argue about who manages the Herb Garden, come back to the Law Enforcement Hall to argue."

The Medicine Peak Deacon picked up the fire order and dared not stop her again.

Half an hour later, the group returned to Law Enforcement Peak.

Zhao Chong and Sun Erhe were both sent to a side hall. This place was originally used to hold injured prisoners; the walls were carved with a spirit locking array, and eight law enforcement disciples stood guard outside.

A Medicine Peak physician cut open Zhao Chong's clothes and removed two iron nails from his abdomen.

The nails had been coated with vein-corroding poison. The poison had lingered too long and had already damaged his meridians. Zhao Chong swallowed two healing pills but still spat out a significant amount of black blood.

The physician packed up his medical kit.

"His life can be saved, but his cultivation depends on luck. He cannot use spiritual energy for the next few days, nor can he take any more breath-closing powder."

Gu Qinghe sealed the room, leaving only Li Sanshun inside.

"You can speak now."

Zhao Chong leaned against the head of the bed, glancing toward the door several times first.

"You can't protect me."

"Five of the six assassins on North Mountain are dead. The one left is you." Li Sanshun pulled over a stool. "They went to such great lengths and still couldn't burn you to death; now, they are the ones who should be afraid."

Zhao Chong stared at him for a long time.

"What is your name?"

"Li Sanshun."

Zhao Chong gripped the thin blanket covering him.

"Who gave you that name?"

"Does this have anything to do with the case?"

"Answer me!"

Li Sanshun reached out and pressed down on his wound.

Zhao Chong curled up in pain, the little strength he had just gathered dissipating entirely.

"It's my turn to ask you now."

Gu Qinghe took out an evidence bag and pulled out a folded, aged piece of paper.

This was the copy found in the lining of Zhao Chong's inner robe. The paper depicted a newborn infant, with its weight, birthmarks, and the color of its swaddling clothes noted on the side. In the bottom right corner, the number "fifteen" was written.

The Law Enforcement Hall had initially mistaken it for a birth date.

But the drawing had no month or year.

Gu Qinghe placed the copy in front of Zhao Chong.

"Is the fifteenth copy the assassins mentioned related to this drawing?"

Zhao Chong avoided the copy and kept his mouth shut.

Li Sanshun picked up the paper to look at it.

Behind the infant's right shoulder, three red dots were drawn, with a line of small text beside them.

"Three red moles, arranged in a triangular pattern."

Li Sanshun's movements froze.

He pulled open his collar and turned his right shoulder toward a bronze mirror. Near the base of his neck, there were exactly three red moles.

He had had them since he was a child.

When the Old Rascal bathed him, he used to joke about these three moles, saying he must have owed three debts in his past life and left a mark so his creditors could find him in this one.

Gu Qinghe took the copy and compared it to the birthmark on his shoulder.

The position was identical, and the size matched perfectly.

"Where did this portrait come from?"

Zhao Chong still refused to answer.

Li Sanshun pressed the copy against his chest.

"You recognized me the moment you saw me. What exactly is the fifteenth copy?"

Zhao Chong gasped for air.

"The Old Infant Case."

"Explain clearly."

"Twenty-one years ago, someone collected a batch of newborn infants from various places. Every child had a portrait and an individual file, numbered sequentially starting from one."

Gu Qinghe pressed him: "How many people in total?"

"I only saw the first fifteen copies."

"Where were these children sent?"

"It wasn't written in the files."

Zhao Chong answered too quickly.

Li Sanshun stared at the copy; the edges of the paper had charred black marks. A few lines of text had originally been written below the portrait, but they had been scraped away, leaving only a blurred character that looked like "Shun."

His name, his birthmark, his age—everything matched.

This could not be a coincidence.

"Did number fifteen go missing?"

Zhao Chong nodded.

"The first fourteen copies all had destinations. Only the handover record for the fifteenth copy was blank, and a 'missing' seal was stamped at the end of the file."

Gu Qinghe picked up the copy.

"So Li Sanshun is the number fifteen who went missing back then."

"Yes."

The room was silent for a moment.

Li Sanshun, however, did not go on to ask about his biological parents.

For the sake of this portrait, the enemy dared to forge a fire order, burn North Mountain, and send six cultivators to clear the scene. The people involved in an infant case from twenty-one years ago were likely still alive.

They might even hold high positions.

"What were they doing by taking the infants?"

"I don't know."

"Who kept these portraits?"

"I don't know."

"How did you get this copy?"

Zhao Chong gritted his teeth.

Gu Qinghe flipped the copy over; a small amount of cyan wax residue was stuck to the back.

"The sealing wax from the ninth floor of the Scripture Library. You've been to the ninth floor."

Zhao Chong's breathing became ragged.

The ninth floor of the Scripture Library only held the sect's forbidden archives. Without a grand elder's token, even the head of the Law Enforcement Hall could not enter.

Gu Qinghe sealed the evidence bag.

"Trespassing on the ninth floor and stealing forbidden archives—this alone is enough to have your cultivation crippled and to be thrown into the Cold Prison. Do you still intend to hold out?"

Three knocks suddenly came from outside the door.

A law enforcement disciple reported through the door: "Senior Sister Gu, the Hall Master has issued an order to transfer Zhao Chong and Sun Erhe to the dungeon. Hand them over immediately."

Gu Qinghe took out her Law Enforcement Token. "Who delivered the order?"

"The Hall Master's personal attendant. The token has been verified."

Zhao Chong propped himself up on the bed frame, his wounds seeping blood again.

"I cannot go to the dungeon. They are waiting for me to go in."

"Why should I defy an order to protect you?"

Zhao Chong looked at Li Sanshun.

"Keep me alive until the public trial, and I will tell you who let me into the ninth floor of the Scripture Library, and who wants to erase number fifteen from this world!"