The Master Who Eats From Three Households, The Official Who Manages The Pleasure District

The air in the courtyard seemed to freeze for a moment.

Fang Mo's harmless smile didn't fade at all; instead, it grew even brighter.

He flipped his wrist, and several pieces of good-quality broken silver appeared in his palm as if by magic, reflecting light in the sun.

"Two seniors, this is my first time here. We'll be working together from now on, so please look after me."

He took two steps forward and naturally slipped the silver into the thin old man's hand, then casually tucked another piece into the embrace of the tower-like man.

His movements were fluid and seamless, as if he had done this a thousand times before.

"I'll need your help a lot in the future. This isn't much, just a small token of respect to buy you both some wine to wet your throats."

The old man, who had been puffing on his pipe, paused. His cloudy eyes darted over the broken silver, and then his wrinkled face bloomed like a chrysanthemum in the spring breeze.

"Oh, the new leader is so considerate!"

The old man tucked his pipe into his waistband. His withered fingers nimbly gathered the silver into his sleeve, and he patted Fang Mo's hand. The touch was as rough as tree bark.

"Our Punishment Department is small but full of trouble; shallow waters have many bullies. Since you're new and willing to give us a bite to eat, we brothers should be content."

He pointed to the giant next to him, who had remained silent the entire time, merely polishing a large iron hammer. "His name is Iron Bull. He's mute and a blacksmith. His skills are decent; he usually repairs weapons for the brothers in the department to make a living."

Then, he pointed to himself. "My name is Yan Wangchou. Yan Wangchou, as in the one who makes even King Yama worry. It's a humble name; you can just call me Old Yan. I used to be a Legal Advisor in the yamen for a few years. Later, I offended someone and ended up here in the Punishment Department as a clerk, writing case files for the deceased. It's quite fitting."

His self-introduction was flawless. A mute blacksmith and a down-on-his-luck advisor.

Lei Heng giving these two to Fang Mo clearly showed he didn't want Fang Mo to have anyone useful.

Iron Bull stopped swinging his hammer. He didn't speak but nodded at Fang Mo with a simple smile. Then, he took the silver from his embrace, bit it, and after confirming it was real, grinned, revealing a mouth full of white teeth. He turned back to continue hammering the red-hot iron billet.

The clanging sound resumed, but it was much more pleasant than before.

Fang Mo didn't mind. As long as they accepted the money, the principle remained the same—problems that could be solved with money were not problems.

"The leader is a generous person! If you have any tasks in the future, just give the word," Yan Wangchou promised, patting his chest.

"Of course, of course," Fang Mo waved his hand. "Brothers, I'm new here and don't know the rules. Where do I go to handle the onboarding paperwork? I can't just take up my post like this, can I?"

Gu Yichuan's soul had already explained the procedures of the Punishment Department clearly last night.

To assume the post of a Small Flag, one needed the Hundred Households' order to register at the department's clerical office, then proceed to the armory to collect a standard saber, a Small Flag uniform, and weapon quotas for three Captains, and finally go to the logistics department to apply for funds to repair the assigned post.

His question was a test, and also a way to establish himself as someone who understood the rules and didn't cause trouble.

"Ah, it's no big deal," Yan Wangchou said, tucking his pipe into his waistband. "Lord Fang, please follow me. I'm familiar with this."

With that, he took small steps and led Fang Mo through the dilapidated courtyard towards the main hall of the White Tiger Hall.

Along the way, Yan Wangchou didn't stop talking, explaining the factions and taboos among the Hundred Households and General Flags in the White Tiger Hall, mixing truth with falsehood.

Iron Bull followed behind them like a shadow, the three of them heading towards the department's main hall.

Fang Mo only listened, not asking any further questions.

Upon arriving at the clerical office in the main hall, the process went unusually smoothly.

Perhaps Lei Heng had given prior notice, or perhaps the broken silver Fang Mo had given that morning had worked its magic. The appointment document, stamped with the White Tiger Hall's vermilion seal, was soon in Fang Mo's hands.

Yan Wangchou skillfully led Fang Mo to the armory to collect his items.

The attendant in charge of the armory intended to make things difficult but seeing Yan Wangchou's half-smile, he seemed to have thought of something and, for the first time ever, gave Fang Mo a brand-new set of Silver Thread Fish Scale Armor and a saber made of Hundred Refined Steel.

"Old Yan, your influence is quite significant," Fang Mo said on the way back, weighing the saber in his hand. The blade felt heavy, and its cold glint was sharp. It was a good saber.

"Heh heh, I've been serving the department for several years and have gotten to know people," Yan Wangchou chuckled, brushing it off vaguely.

After all the procedures were completed, Fang Mo looked at the appointment document with its bright red seal and felt a surge of emotion.

In his past and present lives, he had been busy, and he never expected to have eaten from three different households. A salary from the heavenly prison, a tribute from the Prison Suppressing Realm, and now an official salary from the Punishment Department.

"Old Yan, what kind of duties does our Seventh Small Flag usually handle?" Fang Mo asked as they walked.