The officer in command was a middle-aged man with a hard face and eyes as sharp as a hawk's.
He slowly rose from his chair.
His gaze swept over White Tiger Lin Qing, who stood ramrod straight.
It was as though he wanted to dissect him inside and out and see him clearly.
After several seconds of silence,
he coldly said, "Take him."
Two words, utterly decisive.
There was not a trace of warmth in his voice.
"Lock him in the special detention cell and keep him under strict guard. Without orders from above, no one is to have contact with him."
"Yes!"
The two soldiers who had long been waiting nearby immediately stepped forward and, without ceremony, seized White Tiger Lin Qing by the shoulders from either side.
Their grip was powerful, carrying an unmistakable warning not to resist.
[As expected, I was imprisoned. I had no intention of resisting either.]
The scene shifted to a narrow, gloomy cell with only a tiny ventilation window high above.
White Tiger Lin Qing was shoved inside.
The iron door behind him slammed shut with a heavy clang.
Then came the harsh sound of chains turning as the lock was secured.
He stood in the middle of the cell.
Then he silently walked to a corner and sat down with his back against the freezing stone wall.
There was still no panic, fear, or anger on his face.
Only the calmness of a deep pool.
It was as though everything before him—this cell, imprisonment, suspicion, and all the rest—had long been within his expectations.
Beside the campfire in reality,
Lin Qing could not help twitching the corner of his mouth, and his eyelid jumped as well.
"Come on... man, aren't you a little too calm?"
he muttered under his breath.
"Shouldn't you at least show some anger over being falsely accused, or frustration over your plans getting derailed?"
He was so calm that he did not seem like an eleven-year-old boy at all, but rather an old monk who had seen through the world.
On second thought, Lin Qing understood.
"Right, the personalities of the different 'me's really are quite distinct."
He recalled the several "parallel selves" he had encountered before.
The first two Lin Qings who had grown up in Emperor Soul Village had personalities closest to his current self: cautious.
Sun Moon Lin Qing had been a Soul Tool fanatic, putting reason above all else, with the innocent simplicity of a tech nerd.
The great profiteer Lin Qing had been smooth, perceptive, and kind to others, thriving spectacularly in an entirely different field.
Immortal Herb Lin Qing... forget it. He had been a tragedy, trapped for over ten thousand years before finally killing himself in despair. His personality had been worn away long ago.
And this White Tiger Lin Qing before him was clearly another entirely different type.
He had grown up in a collateral branch of the Duke Mansion.
He had witnessed the intrigue among nobles and the coldness of reality from an early age.
And he harbored the enormous ambition of "cutting off the protagonist's opportunity," enduring and plotting alone for five years.
That had long since forged in him a calmness, rationality, and even a nearly ruthless pragmatism far beyond his peers.
"Environment really does have a huge influence on personality."
Lin Qing shook his head and continued watching the light screen.
He was very curious. Now that this unbelievably calm White Tiger Lin Qing was trapped behind bars, what would he do next?
Was his "path of defecting to the Sun Moon Empire" going to end so bleakly just after it began?
[After being held in solitary confinement for three whole days, someone finally came.]
Almost no light entered the gloomy special detention cell.
Only the palm-sized ventilation window high above let in a little miserable daylight.
The air was thick with the mingled smell of mold and rust, making it difficult to breathe.
White Tiger Lin Qing sat on the pile of relatively dry straw in the corner.
With his back against the ice-cold stone wall, his eyes closed, he seemed to be resting—or perhaps thinking.
He did not show the slightest sign of impatience or unease.
His breathing was steady and deep.
It was as though this was not a prison cell, but his own Cultivation Room.
Over the past three days, aside from the tasteless water and black bread delivered at regular intervals, no one had disturbed him.
He knew they were trying to wear him down, erode his will, and observe his reactions.
And he used that time to chat on and off with Sky Dream Ice Silkworm in his Spiritual Sea.
At the same time, he silently circulated his Soul Power and consolidated the cultivation that had just surged to level twenty-six.
Finally,
on the afternoon of the third day,
"Tap, tap, tap..."
clear, steady footsteps echoed through the silent corridor outside the detention cell.
The footsteps were unhurried as they drew nearer.
They eventually stopped outside the iron door of this cell.
"Creak—"
The rusted iron door, its sound enough to set one's teeth on edge, was pushed open.
The light streaming in from outside dispelled the darkness in a small area near the doorway, illuminating a figure standing there.
He was a plump man dressed in a silver-white robe of fine material, covered in intricate Soul Tool patterns.
His expression was stern, his hair meticulously combed, and his entire body exuded the imposing authority of a man long accustomed to high office and great power.
He merely stood there without saying or doing anything, yet the air around him became heavy.
"Jing Hongchen?!"
Lin Qing in reality was utterly surprised.
He had seen Jing Hongchen in the final image left behind by Sun Moon Lin Qing.
[I never expected Jing Hongchen himself to be the one coming to see me.]
He had imagined many possibilities.
It could have been an interrogator from the intelligence department, a high-ranking officer from the garrison, or even an envoy sent by the imperial family.
But he truly had not expected the highly esteemed, overwhelmingly busy master of Mingde Hall to personally come to this dark detention cell.
The weight of this... was somewhat beyond his expectations.
"You are Lin Qing?"
Jing Hongchen's voice rang out. His tone was steady, revealing neither joy nor anger, as though he were merely confirming the label on an object.
He stepped into the detention cell.
Two silent guards with formidable auras followed behind him, standing watch on either side of the doorway.
"Yes."
White Tiger Lin Qing rose from the pile of straw.
He brushed at dust that was not actually there and straightened his body.
His movements were neither hurried nor slow, and his bearing was neither servile nor overbearing.
He did not appear frightened because he had been imprisoned.
Nor did he deliberately ingratiate himself because of the other man's exalted status.
Jing Hongchen did not speak immediately.
Instead, he carefully examined the youth before him from head to toe with eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything.
From his slightly disheveled yet still jet-black hair, to his calm, unruffled eyes, and then to his straight back, though it was somewhat dusty.
His gaze was like the most precise scanning Soul Tool.
He tried to find a flaw in every minute expression, movement, and even the rhythm of his breathing.
The room was very quiet.
Only faint sounds from the other detention cells occasionally drifted over from the corridor outside.
After a long while,
Jing Hongchen slowly spoke.
"Lin Qing, a collateral descendant of the White Tiger Duke Mansion from the former Star Luo Empire."
His voice remained steady, but every word he spoke was like a blade.
"Age: eleven. Soul Power Level: twenty-six. Soul Grandmaster. Martial Soul: Heavenly Eye, a Mental Martial Soul."
"First Soul Ring: hundred-year. Second Soul Ring... yet it is thousand-year."
After every sentence, he paused, his gaze locked tightly onto White Tiger Lin Qing's face.
"In the Star Luo Empire, with talent like yours, you should have been a key figure cultivated by your family, with a boundless future ahead of you."
"Yet you chose to defect, crossing the long border alone to voluntarily seek refuge in my Sun Moon Empire."
Jing Hongchen narrowed his eyes slightly.
His piercing gaze seemed to turn into tangible needles aimed at the youth.
"Now tell me, why?"
His voice suddenly grew heavier, carrying an unquestionable demand.
"Give me a reason I can believe."
Before you continue