The tall figure in the alley had his back to him, bathed in the cold moonlight.
Ye Qingxuan's body tensed, and his right hand was already resting on the short-handled woodcutter's knife at his waist. The dried blood on the handle still carried a faintly sticky sensation.
He touched the ground with his toes without making the slightest sound. Like a gecko clinging to the shadows along the wall, he slowly drew closer.
The man remained motionless, as if he were looking at the gate to Ye Qingxuan's home—or perhaps at the faded spring couplet pasted across it.
Ten paces. Five. Three...
Just as Ye Qingxuan was about to explode into action, the man suddenly moved. He turned around, revealing a face thick with the reek of alcohol. Under the moonlight, it looked dazed and exhausted.
He was a drunk.
The drunk staggered along with one hand against the wall, mumbling indistinctly. He had taken the wrong alley and actually mistaken Ye Qingxuan's gate for his own.
Ye Qingxuan relaxed his grip on the knife. The breath of true qi he had gathered slowly sank back into his dantian. He said nothing, merely watching the drunk fumble his way into the distance until he finally disappeared deep in the alley.
He pushed open the gate and entered the house. His little sister, Ye Caiwei, was sleeping soundly, her small body curled up beneath the covers, her breathing even.
He sat on the edge of the bed and, by the faint light filtering through the window, gazed at his sister's peaceful sleeping face. The scene at the alley mouth had tightened the string in his heart another three notches. In this world of turbid currents, unseen dangers lurked everywhere.
He reached into his robe and pulled out the dark, heavy iron token. It was the credential Tan Zhenglong had given him. The moment it entered his hand, it carried a metallic chill, yet that chill gradually soothed his restless thoughts.
This was his proof.
With it, he had a seventy percent chance of success in tomorrow's affair. Thirty taels of silver, a merit, the status of a formal constable... Things that had once been impossibly distant were now within arm's reach.
The corners of his mouth lifted involuntarily.
He carefully returned the credential to his robe and kept it close to his body. A night of running and slaughter had left him utterly exhausted, but his spirit was unusually excited. He did not sleep. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed, silently regulating his breath and recovering his depleted strength.
While he meditated, the rear hall of the Fengtian Division remained lit in the room belonging to the constables on night duty.
Zhang Lingxiao pushed open the door, his face brimming with barely contained excitement.
"Constable Tan, that kid's gone?"
Tan Zhenglong was sitting at the table, carefully wiping his saber with a coarse cloth. He did not even raise his head, merely grunting an "Mm" through his nose.
"That merit..." Zhang Lingxiao rubbed his hands and came closer. "What do you think? Should we go report it to my uncle?"
Tan Zhenglong's hand stopped. He raised his head. Beneath the lamplight, nothing could be read from his tiger-like eyes.
"Your uncle has already retired for the night."
"Chief Constable Hong may have retired, but my uncle might not have." Zhang Lingxiao smiled. "Such a great merit—once my uncle knows about it, he'll certainly reward us handsomely. Constable Tan, you..."
"The merit belongs to that kid." Tan Zhenglong cut him off, his voice flat. "He was the one who killed the man. I merely received the report."
The smile on Zhang Lingxiao's face froze.
"Constable Tan, you can't put it that way." He lowered his voice. "That kid is merely an unregistered temporary constable. What right does he have? Who would believe he killed him? If word got out, everyone would only treat it as a joke. But if it were you—or me—then it would be perfectly proper."
Tan Zhenglong said nothing. He continued wiping the blade with the cloth, again and again, as if some stain upon it could never be scrubbed clean.
Seeing this, Zhang Lingxiao's eyes shifted. He took a heavy cloth pouch from his robes and silently placed it on the table. The pouch touched the tabletop with a soft clink.
"Constable Tan, you've worked yourself to the bone in the Fengtian Division for half your life and rendered great service, but after all that, aren't you still only a constable?" Zhang Lingxiao's voice carried a bewitching quality. "My uncle said that if this matter is handled well, he'll certainly put in a good word for you before Deputy Envoy Xiao in the future. The position of deputy chief constable may not be a dead certainty, but it isn't impossible either."
Tan Zhenglong's hand finally stopped moving.
He raised his eyes, glanced at the pouch on the table, then looked at Zhang Lingxiao's face, written all over with greed and calculation.
After a long while, he slowly said, "This matter must be handled cleanly."
Zhang Lingxiao was overjoyed. "Naturally! I'll go find my uncle right now and discuss the matter with him from beginning to end..."
As he spoke, he cupped his hands toward Tan Zhenglong, turned around, and hurried away, his back radiating impatience.
Inside the room, Tan Zhenglong picked up the pouch from the table and weighed it in his hand before casually tossing it into a drawer. He blew out the lamp and sat back down in the darkness. His weather-beaten face was indistinct beneath the moonlight filtering through the window.
The next day, dawn was just breaking.
Ye Qingxuan was already practicing in the courtyard. Bare-chested, he used the roughest sharp-edged stone to scrape and grind his body again and again.
A night of breath regulation had fully restored his energy. After reaching the second level of body tempering, his body's recovery far surpassed what it had been before.
Sharp pain came from his skin, yet he remained completely unaware of it, his mind sinking wholly into the painting in his sea of consciousness.
[Body Tempering with Mysterious Stone, flesh and skin toughened, Merit +1.]
Only after a long while did he stop. He drew well water and washed away the sweat and traces of blood covering him, feeling refreshed and invigorated, every limb and bone brimming with strength.
He summoned the painting.
[Name: Ye Qingxuan] [Realm: Second Level of Body Tempering (Flesh Tempering)] [Martial Art: Indestructible Vajra Body (Realm: Great Accomplishment, Measure: Four Inches, Merit: 16/100)]
The hundred points required to reach perfection still seemed a long way off. Yet his state of mind was completely different from yesterday's. Last night's merit was the greatest resource of all, enough to save him from an unknowable amount of arduous cultivation.
He put on his clothes and ate two baked flatbreads his sister had left for him before leaving the house with light, brisk steps.
By the time he arrived at the Fengtian Division, the sky was already bright. People streamed through the courtyard, which was filled with bustling activity.
"Morning, Qingxuan!" Wei Datong called out to him from afar with a yawn.
"Morning, Brother Wei." Ye Qingxuan smiled in reply.
Xiong Tiezhu also gave him a simple, honest nod.
Ye Qingxuan was in excellent spirits. Even the drab gray government office looked more pleasing to him. He touched the hard iron token inside his robe and waited for Constable Tan to summon him so he could claim the merit that belonged to him.
He stood in the courtyard with Wei Datong and the others, chatting idly as they waited for the daily roll call.
Before long, the courtyard suddenly fell silent.
Three figures emerged together from the rear hall. Leading them was Zhang Lingxiao's uncle, Chief Constable Zhang. At his side were two other chief constables, Chief Constable Yan and Chief Constable Huang.
The simultaneous appearance of three chief constables was no ordinary spectacle. Every constable in the courtyard, formal or temporary, fell silent and stood at attention with hands hanging at his sides.
Chief Constable Zhang walked to the stone steps at the center of the courtyard and swept his gaze across everyone's faces. His own expression was blank, but the weight of his official authority pressed down on them until it was hard to breathe.
"Everyone," Chief Constable Zhang began slowly, his voice carrying across the entire courtyard. "Last night, our Fengtian Division accomplished a great feat."
At those words, a faint stir immediately arose below.
"The Green Fish Gang remnant wanted by the authorities for days, 'Mottled Fish,' was put to death last night!"
"Whoosh—"
The crowd erupted.
"He's dead? That was a thirty-tael silver bounty!"
"Which brother got so lucky?"
"A second-level body-tempering expert, taken down just like that? I wonder which chief constable personally made the move?"
Nearby, Wei Datong beat his chest and stamped his feet, lowering his voice as he said to Ye Qingxuan, "Oh, no! Thirty taels! That would let the two of us eat and drink well for more than half a year! How did this heaven-sent fortune not fall into our laps?"
Ye Qingxuan merely smiled without speaking. He straightened his back, waiting for his name to be spoken by Chief Constable Zhang.
On the stone steps, Chief Constable Zhang raised a hand and pressed it down lightly. The courtyard fell silent once more.
His gaze swept across the crowd and finally landed on Ye Qingxuan.
Ye Qingxuan's heart gave a sudden leap.
Here it comes.
Chief Constable Zhang cleared his throat and announced the final result in a tone devoid of emotion:
"Upon investigation, last night, temporary constable Ye Qingxuan provided valid intelligence."
He said only that and then stopped.
Many eyes in the crowd turned toward Ye Qingxuan. There was surprise, envy, and jealousy among them. Wei Datong even jabbed him with an elbow, his face filled with disbelief.
But the smile on Ye Qingxuan's face stiffened.
Provided intelligence?
He had only provided intelligence?
An ominous premonition surged through his heart.
Chief Constable Zhang continued, "Formal constable Tan Zhenglong and temporary constable Zhang Lingxiao launched a swift strike after receiving the intelligence and successfully located 'Mottled Fish' at the abandoned tile yard west of the city."
Zhang Lingxiao's name pierced Ye Qingxuan's ears like a needle.
He instinctively searched the crowd but did not see Tan Zhenglong. He only saw Zhang Lingxiao standing behind his uncle, his face full of arrogance and smug satisfaction.
Chief Constable Zhang's voice continued. Every word was like a heavy hammer, smashing into Ye Qingxuan's chest.
"The two fought bitterly with the criminal and eventually cornered him. During the battle, Constable Tan led from the front and restrained the criminal, while Zhang Lingxiao seized an opportunity, remained calm in the face of danger, and delivered the final blow, killing 'Mottled Fish' on the spot!"
"For this operation, Zhang Lingxiao shall receive the primary merit! Constable Tan comes second! Ye Qingxuan also rendered service by providing the intelligence!"
"Boom—"
It was as if a thunderclap had exploded inside Ye Qingxuan's mind.
All sounds around him—the cries of surprise from Wei Datong and the discussions of the others—instantly faded into the distance. In his world, only Chief Constable Zhang's moving lips remained, along with Zhang Lingxiao's smugly triumphant face behind him.
His merit had been stolen.
By Tan Zhenglong, by Zhang Lingxiao, by the uncle and nephew working together.
The glib deception of last night, the life-and-death battle, the meticulous plan—in the end, all it had earned him was the weightless phrase "provided intelligence"!
He was the one who had killed the man!
He was the one who deserved the primary merit!
A rush of hot blood shot straight to his head. It was as if a volcano were about to erupt inside his chest. The churning rage burned so fiercely that his internal organs ached.
He clenched his fists unconsciously, his fingernails sinking deep into his palms. The iron token in his robe dug into his chest like a red-hot brand.
Proof?
What kind of proof was this?
It was nothing but a joke! A joke proving how naive and laughable he had been!
He looked at the sanctimonious Chief Constable Zhang on the stone steps, then at the arrogant Zhang Lingxiao behind him. A chill surged from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.
So this was the Fengtian Division's rule.
So this was the justice of this world of turbid currents!
They could openly call black white.
They could stand before everyone and seize his merit, his future, and everything he had traded his life to obtain, dividing it up and devouring it clean!
And he, an unregistered temporary constable, did not even have the right to utter a single word of protest.
Before you continue