Clouds Gather, Cracks Lie Hidden

The rain stopped.

Light broke through the lead-gray clouds, illuminating the wet, slippery flagstones of the Fengtian Division's courtyard with a blinding white glare.

Ye Qingxuan stood in the yard, listening to Hong Qingshan assign the day's patrol duties. The old constable's voice was as steady and unhurried as ever, but the atmosphere in the courtyard was more subdued than usual.

The constables coming and going, whether in their official black uniforms or temporary short tunics, had less of their usual swagger and more solemnity on their faces. The sound of swords being sheathed and footsteps splashing through puddles were both heavier than usual.

Ye Qingxuan held the Water-Fire Cudgel in his hand, but his mind wasn't on the words being spoken.

Half of his attention was still in that small courtyard in the Southern District.

Is my sister safe? Will officials come to question her? Can she handle it at her young age?

"...The Southern District has been a bit restless lately. You few, keep a closer eye," Hong Qingshan's words pulled his thoughts back.

The old constable's cloudy gaze swept over Ye Qingxuan and Wei Datong and the others, as if intentionally, yet as if by chance.

Wei Datong, quick of tongue, leaned in and lowered his voice, "Qingxuan, did you hear? Hu Jiudao and his gang, something happened to them last night."

Ye Qingxuan didn't lift his eyelids, merely wiping the head of his cudgel with a cloth, his movements unhurried.

"What?"

"Dead, all dead!" Wei Datong said, spittle flying. "Word is, they got drunk and there was a fire, the whole house burned to a crisp along with them! Tsk tsk, the coroner went to look, said it was a terrible burn, they couldn't even piece together the skeletons."

Xiong Tiezhu, standing nearby, added in a gruff voice, "Serves them right. That bunch of hooligans never did anything good."

"That's true," Wei Datong glanced around, his voice even lower. "But what's strange is, the Fierce Tiger Hall sealed off the alley early this morning, wouldn't let us Fengtian Division people investigate thoroughly. Chief Constable Zhang took people over, but they were blocked, and it almost came to blows."

Ye Qingxuan's wiping motion paused slightly.

The Fierce Tiger Hall's reaction was faster and more forceful than he had anticipated. Duan Tianbao wouldn't believe the nonsense about a "drunken fire" for a second.

"There have been a lot of strange occurrences in the city recently, and the higher-ups are on edge," an old constable passing by chimed in. He had just come out of the division, a worried look on his face. "Did you hear? The demons of the Myriad Tribulation Sect have shown themselves in the city again. Lord Xiao has issued a strict order for a thorough investigation, and to kill on sight at the slightest sign of trouble."

Myriad Tribulation Sect.

Those three words pierced Ye Qingxuan's ears like needles.

His father had contracted his illness during the suppression of the Myriad Tribulation Sect years ago.

The old constable sighed, shaking his head as he walked away. "A time of troubles..."

An invisible cloud seemed to be hanging over Linyuan Prefecture City. The pressure on the Fengtian Division, the unusual movements of the gangs, and the demonic cult that had been silent for years... This turbulent world, the undercurrents beneath the surface were more violent than he had imagined.

Ye Qingxuan spent the entire day in a state of unease.

He was more silent than usual during his patrol. Wei Datong's chatter and the clamor of the marketplace seemed distant to him.

After practicing Muscle Tendon Strengthening, his senses had become exceptionally keen; he could hear the buzzing of flies and mosquitoes dozens of steps away. But at this moment, these sounds were a torment. He couldn't help but try to catch any hint of movement from the direction of the Southern District.

Finally, when his shift ended, he handed in his Water-Fire Cudgel and hurried home.

The closer he got to the Southern District, the more oppressive the atmosphere in the alley became.

At this time of day usually, smoke would rise from the chimneys of every household, children would be chasing each other and playing in the alley, and women would gather at their doorways, sorting vegetables and chatting.

Today, the alley was so quiet he could hear the wind.

Every house had its doors and windows tightly shut. Even the old yellow dog that usually loved to lie by the door basking in the sun was nowhere to be seen. Occasionally, a corner of a curtain would be pulled aside, revealing a pair of peeping eyes, which would quickly retract as soon as they met his gaze.

The air was filled with a strange smell, a mixture of wet earth after the rain and scorched charcoal.

Hu Jiudao's death was like a huge rock thrown into the already murky waters of the Southern District, startling all the fish and shrimp into hiding in the mud at the bottom.

Ye Qingxuan pushed open the gate of his own courtyard and walked in.

The courtyard was clean. The tables and chairs that Hu Jiudao had kicked over yesterday had been tidied up.

Ye Caiwei was sitting on a small stool by the stove, idly poking the fire in the hearth with a fire poker. The firelight reflected on her small face, showing no particular expression.

"Brother, you're back," she said, standing up and dusting off her hands.

"Mm." Ye Qingxuan closed the door and bolted it. "Did anyone come today?"

"No," Ye Caiwei shook her head.

She walked over to Ye Qingxuan, stood on tiptoe, and straightened his slightly messy collar.

"Brother, I swept the floor at home, it's very clean." She looked up, her large eyes gazing at Ye Qingxuan, her words carrying a hidden meaning.

Ye Qingxuan's heart warmed. He knew his sister understood.

She didn't ask questions or cry, but in her own way, she was telling him that she would protect their home.

He raised his hand, intending to pat her head as usual. But halfway up, he suddenly remembered something and his gaze shot to the blue brick wall in the courtyard.

The rain last night had washed the wall clean.

And precisely because of that, the white marks left on it were particularly striking.

Those were the traces left by his Locust Stone practice, where he had hit the wall with stones. Some were shallow white dots, others were deep pits embedded in the gaps between bricks. They were dense, covering the entire wall.

To an ordinary person, these might just look like the marks of a child playing.

But to a discerning martial artist or an experienced investigator, it would be immediately clear that these marks were not made randomly. Their distribution, force, and angles all revealed a method honed through long practice.

This was irrefutable proof of his martial arts!

A chill crawled up his spine.

He thought he had planned for everything, yet he had overlooked this most obvious and fatal flaw.

"Brother, what's wrong?" Ye Caiwei followed his gaze and also saw the imprints on the wall, a look of confusion on her small face.

"It's nothing."

Ye Qingxuan composed himself and quickly walked to the wall. He couldn't scrape or wash them off; that would only draw more attention.

His mind raced as his gaze swept over the water vat in the corner of the yard. A thick layer of moss and mud coated the bottom of the vat.

He had an idea.

He found a broken ladle, scooped up half a ladle of dark, mushy mud from the bottom of the vat, and grabbed a handful of grayish-white grass ash from the stove. He mixed them together and stirred them with his hand.

"Nannan, come here, help your brother with something." He beckoned Ye Caiwei over.

He smeared a patch of the mud mixed with grass ash randomly on the wall, then said to his sister, "Let's paint. Let's turn this wall into a big, painted face, okay?"

Although Ye Caiwei didn't know why her brother suddenly had such artistic inclinations, seeing his enthusiasm, she happily ran over, imitated him, grabbed handfuls of mud with her little hands, and slapped them onto the wall.

The brother and sister, one tall, one short, one moving quickly, the other clumsy and cute, randomly smeared the old and new mud onto the wall.

The shocking white stone imprints were quickly covered by the mottled mud spots.

The entire wall became like an ugly monster covered in mold.

After finishing, Ye Qingxuan let out a long sigh of relief. This way, even if someone checked, they would only assume it was years of accumulated grime or the mischief of children.

He was about to go fetch water to wash his hands.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

Three dull knocks on the door suddenly rang out.

The sound wasn't like a neighbor visiting, but more like the end of a scabbard being repeatedly and heavily tapped on the door panel.

The air in the courtyard instantly froze.

The heart Ye Qingxuan had just set down leaped back into his throat.

He exchanged a glance with Ye Caiwei, seeing a hint of panic in his sister's eyes.

He made a shushing gesture to his sister and pointed towards the inner room.

Ye Caiwei understood, tiptoed, and silently hid inside the room.

Ye Qingxuan stood in the courtyard, listening intently.

Outside the door, there was no sound of speech, only a dead silence, and that faint, lingering smell of burning that drifted from Hu Jiudao's courtyard.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

The knocking sounded again, more forceful and impatient than before.

The door panel groaned under the strain.

They're here.

The people from Fierce Tiger Hall had come looking for him.