The night wind swept through the corridors, carrying a trace of chill. Ye Qingxuan returned to the small courtyard in the Southern District. The Demon Breaking Token in his arms felt heavy, like a branding iron pressed against his flesh, yet it gave him an unprecedented sense of reassurance.
This token was both a protective talisman and a death warrant. It was an olive branch extended by Mu Wanjun, but also a noose hanging above his head. He knew he could not show it to anyone lightly. The moment he used it, he would be dancing on the edge of a blade, with no road back. To deal with Duan Tianbao, he had to use his own methods—a faster blade and a stone capable of piercing through every arrangement.
The next day, he was on duty as usual, patrolling those same familiar streets and alleys. Cheng Yuan and Zhao Hu trailed far behind, telling dirty jokes. Their laughter buzzed around people like flies.
"Brother Cheng, that constable Ye took a beating at Chief Constable Zhang's place the other day. How come he looks like nothing happened today?" Zhao Hu's voice was shrill, deliberately raised.
Cheng Yuan's deep, muffled voice chimed in. "He's putting on an act. Young people are thin-skinned. Who knows how much he's cursing under his breath. Look at him—he probably doesn't even have the nerve to go fool around at Happy Forest anymore."
Wei Datong's teeth itched with irritation. Several times, he wanted to turn around and curse them out, but Ye Qingxuan silenced him with a look.
When they reached a fork in the road, Ye Qingxuan suddenly stopped and turned around.
The moment he stopped, Cheng Yuan and Zhao Hu's laughter ceased as well. They looked at him, undisguised provocation shining on their faces.
Ye