Profound Formation Division

How satisfying is showing off?

Or rather, how satisfying is showing off in front of a big shot?

Zeng Anmin held Huzi, his face still beaming with an extremely bright smile.

He finally understood the joy of a top student solving high-school-level Olympiad math problems in front of a teacher.

At this moment, Father's expression was somewhat frozen.

Never mind Father—in the entire courtyard, aside from Qi Dachun who had just been beaten, who wasn't completely dumbfounded?

Zeng Anmin withdrew his fingers, blinked, and said in an innocent tone:

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

His voice broke the silence of the courtyard.

Everyone turned to look at Zeng Anmin in unison.

At that moment, the last rays of the setting sun happened to skim past the tip of his nose. His sharply chiseled profile and those strikingly eye-catching Phoenix Eyes gave off an air of youthful exuberance unique to a young man.

Father snapped out of it. He clasped one hand behind his back, his expression returning to calm, and cleared his throat, which seemed blocked by something:

"Ahem, opening the Purple Mansion at this age is indeed somewhat talented."

Having said that, Father shifted his tone:

"However, opening the Purple Mansion is only the first step into the Confucian Path. A ten-thousand-zhang foundation begins from the ground beneath your feet. Don't be impetuous from now on; cultivate patiently."

"You must understand that truly comprehending Heaven and Earth is the root of the Confucian Path."

"From now on, you may study Confucianism at home. If there's anything you don't understand, come to the study and find me."

After speaking, Father walked briskly toward the study with noticeably quicker, shorter steps than usual:

"I suddenly recall there are official matters to attend to. I won't be eating dinner."

With that, he stepped into the study.

"Slap."

The door closed behind him.

"Tch."

Zeng Anmin lowered his head, teased Huzi for a moment, then lazily lifted his eyelids and glanced at the study's tightly shut doors and windows:

"Then let's not bother Grandfather. We'll eat first, Huzi?"

"Yes!!" Huzi seemed indifferent to everything, but the moment Zeng Anmin mentioned the word "eat," his eyes suddenly lit up with blazing brightness:

"Great, great! Heehee."

Drool was already dripping down.

Zeng Anmin lifted Huzi's shirt to wipe his mouth.

He cast another glance toward the study, curled his lip, and muttered:

"Suppressive education and all that—nothing but annoying."

Inside the study, Zeng Shilin peered out through a crack in the window.

After Zeng Anmin left the courtyard with Huzi and Aunt Lin to eat dinner.

The servants in the yard also gradually departed one after another.

He waited a little longer, until the entire courtyard was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Zeng Shilin could no longer hold back. He released his hand, which had been clenched so tight it had turned white.

"Hahahahaha!!!!"

An extremely hearty laugh rang through the entire study.

"That surnamed Qin! Always has to compare everything with me?"

"So what if your daughter reached the Cultivation of Temperament Realm in half a year?"

"Haha! Perfect—she'll make a fine wife for my son!"

"..."

But the rest of the words, Father kept to himself.

Prince Jiang's Estate was located in the southern part of Two Rivers Prefecture.

Two turns past it, not far away, was the official road.

It was also the place where Wang Lin, the Young Master of Prince Jiang's Estate, had died.

At this moment, though night had already fallen, Prince Jiang's Estate was ablaze with lights.

Main Hall.

A burly, imposing figure sat expressionlessly on the central chair.

Around thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, he was tall and stalwart, tightly wrapped in a purple robe.

His neck and wrists revealed a bronze complexion.

His features were sharply defined and deep-set, with dark, icy eyes.

This man was none other than the current Prince Jiang. He stared silently at a slightly hunched old man sitting diagonally across from him.

"The Young Master indeed died under a spirit weapon."

The hunched old man's face was crisscrossed with wrinkles, and his plain cloth attire was extremely simple.

If one didn't know, they might mistake him for some old farmer.

However, a glint of sharpness occasionally flashed in his seemingly murky eyes, giving him an unfathomable air.

The old man was a strategist of Prince Jiang's Estate, named Qi Lang, though he preferred others to call him Mr. Qi.

Mr. Qi's voice was low and firm, with a hint of hoarseness:

"I'm all too familiar with the spirit weapons made by the Profound Formation Division."

"He died under the same spirit weapon as A Er. The killer is at least a martial artist of the Sheng Pin Realm."

"One strike, a clean kill, neat and swift—enough to prove that the Black Cat Martial Artist is a repeat offender."

Having said this, he sat in silence, eyes downcast, nose aligned with heart.

He was waiting, waiting for Prince Jiang to speak first.

After a long time.

Prince Jiang's deep eyes finally lifted, a dangerous glint flickering within them that made one tremble involuntarily:

"In the entire Two Rivers Prefecture, martial artists with spirit weapons from the Profound Formation Division can be counted on one hand."

"As for those whose spirit weapon is a short blade, there are none."

Having said this, he looked up at the Xuan paper spread across the table.

On the paper was drawn a jade short blade, its owner a mysterious figure wearing a black hood.

This was sketched based on eyewitness descriptions.

"Then Your Highness will need to send someone with this drawing to the Profound Formation Division to ask for clarification."

The old man slowly shook his head, his gaze deep.

When he said the words "Profound Formation Division," he was slightly dazed for a moment:

"All standard spirit weapons of the Profound Formation Division have records; they should be traceable."

Hearing this, Prince Jiang fell into thought, his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the table to his right.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The sound was highly rhythmic.

After a moment, Prince Jiang looked up, revealing his somewhat rugged face, his voice turning vicious:

"Heh, then let's go ask! I want to see just who dares to be so bold."

As he spoke, a thick murderous intent surfaced.

The entire main hall fell into a deathly silence.

Insects dared not chirp, birds dared not call.

The old man was silent for a while, not picking up the thread.

But Prince Jiang clearly had no intention of letting him off; he slowly fixed his gaze on him:

"Mr. Qi, I hear that the Profound Formation Division in the capital has a formation called 'Ask Heaven,' which can deduce based on a person's appearance and other information. I wonder..."

He trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

Hearing this, the old man was momentarily dazed, then revealed a bitter smile:

"This method damages one's lifespan... and my cultivation is not deep; I may not be able to deduce it."

Prince Jiang didn't even blink; he just narrowed his eyes and continued staring at him.

For a time, the main hall was steeped in an eerie atmosphere.

The old man sighed inwardly, then forced a smile, slowly rose, and bowed to Prince Jiang:

"However, I can naturally understand the grief in Your Highness's heart. How dare I disobey!"

"Excellent!" Prince Jiang beamed with joy, clapping his hands and sighing:

"This Lonely One's meeting with Mr. Qi is like a fish finding water!"

Before long, the main hall of the estate was filled with all kinds of materials.

Prince Jiang dismissed all the servants, clasped one hand behind his back, and stood beside the Old Man, quietly taking in everything.

Mr. Qi's expression was grave, a Black-Purple Compass in his hand.

He stared at the intricate blood-drawn pattern on the ground.

"Heaven's Law on Earth, Earth's Law on Heaven, by Golden Fluff, gain a thread of knowing breath."

The Old Man muttered an incantation under his breath, then abruptly snapped his eyes open. The compass in his hand began to spin without warning.

Before long, a faint ripple descended toward the pattern on the ground.

Hum~

A sound rang out. The arcane pattern on the ground, surrounded by several stones, flickered with a barely perceptible gleam.

The Old Man immediately closed his eyes again.

Perhaps some image flashed through his mind.

Or perhaps some text.

No outsider could know.

Prince Jiang only saw that when the Old Man opened his eyes again, a thin trace of blood had already seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"Your Highness, this subordinate has fully grasped the identity of the Black Cat Martial Artist."