Rice, Firewood, and the Roll Call Hour

It was late at night.

Ye Caiwei's breathing from the inner room was light, shallow, and even, like a stream flowing over pebbles in early spring, delicate and with a steady rhythm.

Ye Qingxuan lay on the hard plank bed in the outer room, his eyes open, staring at the blurry shadow cast on the roof beam by the moonlight.

He couldn't sleep.

Deep within his body, the new warm current from his cultivation intertwined with a hidden soreness, like a dormant beast reminding him of his growing strength. But in his mind, a more tangible debt weighed on him.

Nine days.

He extended a finger and lightly traced the bed board beside him.

The deadline Duan Tianbao had given him was only nine days away.

Fourteen taels of silver.

These four words felt like four mountains pressing down on his chest.

A constable without official status, earning five hundred wen a month, would need two years and four months to save this amount, even without eating or drinking.

Now, he had the Heavenly Machine Codex and the Indestructible Vajra Body. Strength was his key to breaking through this predicament. But strength couldn't directly turn into silver.

He needed a way to monetize his strength.

Furthermore, there were expenses.

Last night's meal of beef and eggs had cost nearly a hundred wen. And that was just the beginning. Cultivating a formidable external martial art like the Indestructible Vajra Body was like igniting a furnace within the body; ordinary food wouldn't even make a ripple. From now on, beef, large bones, and eggs – foods that replenished qi and blood – would be indispensable, every single day.

This was a continuous stream of expenses.

In the rice jar, the small packet of copper coins wrapped in oil paper was the last bit of savings his father had scraped together before he passed away, less than one tael of silver in total.

After this meal, there would be no guarantee of the next.

And then there was the door.

During the day, he had propped it up with a wooden stick, but at night, with the strong wind, it still creaked and groaned, like a gaping hole that blew away the last bit of stability in this small courtyard. Hiring a carpenter to fix it would cost money.

A single coin could stump a hero.

It was only now that Ye Qingxuan truly understood that in this turbulent world, the daily necessities of life were more taxing than any martial arts feud.

He turned over, facing the wall.

Don't rush.

At times like this, the mind needed to be even calmer.

He sorted through the chaotic thoughts in his mind, one by one, arranging them.

First, cultivation couldn't stop. That was the foundation.

Second, he needed to find a way to earn money, quickly and discreetly.

Finally, he needed to comfort his sister.

"Ge..."

From the inner room behind him came Ye Caiwei's dreamlike murmur.

Ye Qingxuan stirred, quietly got up, and walked to the door of the inner room.

In the moonlight, the little girl was curled up in her blanket, her brow furrowed again.

He walked over, crouched by her bed, and reached out, gently smoothing the crease between her brows.

"Nannan, don't be afraid," he said in a voice only he could hear. "About the money, your brother already has a plan."

This statement was for his sister, and also for himself.

There would be a way.

The next day, just after the hour of Mao, the sky began to show a pale white.

The Fengtian Division's yamen in the alleyways of the Southern District was still shrouded in morning mist. This was merely the most inconspicuous of the Fengtian Division's many branches in Linyuan Prefecture city, responsible for this mixed and chaotic marketplace.

The courtyard was not large, its bluestone floor pockmarked and holding dew from the previous night.

Ye Qingxuan changed into a faded, washed indigo uniform, a standard short saber hanging at his waist, and walked into the courtyard.

He had arrived rather early.

There were already seven or eight people in the courtyard, all "temporary constables without official status" like himself. These individuals gathered in twos and threes, some leaning against the wall yawning, others squatting on the ground, wiping their scabbards in the morning light, chatting idly.

Under the east wall, led by a man with a sharp mouth and a sallow complexion, three or four people were gathered, speaking in low voices and occasionally glancing towards the other end of the courtyard.

Under the west corridor pillars, there were two or three people, each silent and exuding an air of aloofness.

This small courtyard was a microcosm of officialdom, with distinct cliques.

"Qingxuan, morning!"

A voice called from behind him, somewhat boisterously.

Ye Qingxuan turned around. It was Wei Datong, nicknamed Monkey Head. He was also a temporary constable, a few years older than Ye Qingxuan, well-informed, and a gossip. He loved to complain about the unfairness of the world but never dared to truly step forward.

"Morning, Brother Monkey," Ye Qingxuan nodded.

"Took yesterday off to rest at home all day?" Wei Datong leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows. "What a shame, the Hundred Flowers Pavilion south of the city just got two Yangzhou courtesans, their figures, tsk tsk…"

Ye Qingxuan didn't reply, just smiled.

Wei Datong, finding no response, changed the subject. "Did you hear? Last night, on the territory of the Starving Wolf Gang in the west of the city, two more places were taken down. The attacker was clean and swift, striking once and leaving, not even alerting the Starving Wolf Gang's hidden sentries."

"Oh?"

"Heh, this Linyuan Prefecture city is probably going to be restless again." Wei Datong lowered his voice, but his face held a schadenfreude expression.

Just then, a burly figure walked in.

It was Xiong Tiezhu, known as Big Mountain. He carried a heavy broadsword befitting his physique, and when he walked, the ground seemed to tremble slightly.

"Big Mountain," Ye Qingxuan called out.

Xiong Tiezhu grunted in a deep voice, acknowledging him. He walked to a corner of the courtyard, set down his sword, and ignoring everyone else, assumed a horse stance on his own, diligently practicing his fist forms.

As his fists and feet moved, they cut through the air with a powerful force, clearly showing he had some martial arts foundation.

Wei Datong curled his lip and whispered to Ye Qingxuan, "Big oaf, all he knows is practice. What good is just strength these days? You need this."

He pointed to his head, then towards the back hall of the yamen.

The implication was obvious.

Ye Qingxuan just kept smiling.

As the sky brightened, more people gathered in the courtyard.

As soon as the hour of Chen arrived, the back door of the yamen opened.

Several men in brand-new dark blue uniforms, with long sabers at their waists, walked out. They looked arrogant, their gazes straight ahead, and their aura was far more formidable than the temporary constables in the courtyard.

These were official constables.

As soon as they appeared, the low chatter in the courtyard immediately died down. Wei Datong also shut his mouth and instinctively shrank back.

Those official constables, without even glancing at the temporary constables, gathered directly under the eaves of the main building, chatting and laughing amongst themselves, forming their own circle.

In their eyes, the temporary constables in the courtyard were perhaps no different from the hawkers and peddlers outside the courtyard walls.

This was class.

Ye Qingxuan stood among the crowd, observing all this with a blank expression.

He was long accustomed to these invisible barriers.

After another while, a commotion suddenly arose at the courtyard entrance.

The official constables who had been chatting under the eaves immediately stopped talking, stood up straight, and all looked towards the entrance.

The temporary constables in the courtyard also held their breath.

A slightly plump middle-aged man, surrounded by a group of people, slowly walked in.

This man wore dark brocade clothing, with a black Fengtian Division Chief Constable uniform over it, a jade belt at his waist, and steady steps.

"Chief Constable Zhang has arrived."

Wei Datong whispered quickly into Ye Qingxuan's ear, in a voice like a mosquito's.