Intelligence

The Black Badge disciple named Xiao Yi wore a gloomy face, his back teeth grinding together with a clicking sound, and his gaze seemed as though he wanted to devour Qian Baolu alive.

Yet, after a brief standoff, he still endured it, clenched his fists, and flicked his sleeves as he walked away.

Qian Baolu stood rooted there, brooding for a moment, and just as he was about to leave, his peripheral vision caught sight of Chen Cheng eating with his head down near the window.

"Junior Brother Chen, did you see that ungrateful wretch just now? Xiao Yi! The dark-faced one!"

Qian Baolu walked over and plunked himself down in the seat opposite Chen Cheng, speaking on his own accord.

"He arrived only a few days before you. At first he didn't understand a damn thing, and I was the one who patiently guided him, taught him, and helped him... completely treating him as one of our own."

"Seeing that he was strapped for cash, I pulled every possible string, spent favors, and lost face to hustle up a lucrative nominal post for him! A monthly stipend of three taels! Three whole taels! But what was the result?"

Qian Baolu spoke with spittle flying, his fingers rapping a thumping rhythm on the tabletop.

"The dog's son collected his first month's pay, and the moment his spine straightened, he turned around and refused to acknowledge me!"

"The profit-sharing we agreed upon in advance, all in black and white... Bah, even if there wasn't anything in writing, basic integrity should at least count for something, right?"

"And what about him? He didn't even intend to share a single coin with me!"

Qian Baolu stared at Chen Cheng, eagerly seeking validation.

"Junior Brother Chen, you judge this fairly. Is this even still human? A rotten-hearted, ungrateful wretch! I'll screw his ancestors! I..."

Chen Cheng did not take up the thread, waiting until Qian Baolu had finished his cursing before speaking calmly.

"Senior Brother Qian, I'm not clear on the specific grievances behind this. But if it truly is as you say... then he certainly isn't acting very honorably."

Seeing that Chen Cheng did not immediately share his bitter hatred, but instead spoke purely of the matter at hand, Qian Baolu curled his lip and bantered tauntingly.

"You won't end up acting like him down the road, will you?"

"Me?"

Chen Cheng chuckled.

"To be frank with you, Senior Brother, this morning I just found a place for a nominal post at Yongsheng Trading Firm, right here in Annan Ward."

"Yongsheng Firm?"

Qian Baolu froze, a trace of unmaskable envy welling up in the depths of his eyes.

"That's a major establishment, backed by the Shen Clan, and its monthly stipend is quite a bit higher than everywhere else... But I heard that they haven't openly recruited nominal martial artists from the outside in ages..."

"I had good luck and happened to catch it just in time," Chen Cheng said indifferently.

"Save it!"

Qian Baolu snorted dismissively, not believing this explanation at all.

"When Yongsheng Firm recruits people, it's either because your connections are ironclad or because you have some other utility... Relying solely on the title of a newly advanced Inner Hall disciple isn't enough to break through their doors!"

Seeing him press the matter, Chen Cheng found it difficult to conceal it any further.

"If I had to give a reason, I worked at Yongsheng Firm for three years previously, and The Proprietor trusts me."

"Look at that! I knew it!"

Qian Baolu slapped his thigh, his face revealing an expression of "just as I thought."

"Since when is Yongsheng Firm a place just any stray cat or dog can enter? Junior Brother... you've really latched onto a genuine towering tree!"

Chen Cheng did not pick up the topic, turning instead to ask.

"Senior Brother Qian, among the nominal postings you meticulously counted off for me yesterday, the Patrol Office of the South Third Guard was among them, right?"

"It is, but didn't you think it was dangerous?"

Qian Baolu curled his lip.

"The nominal martial artists recruited by the South Third Guard Patrol Office are mainly responsible for plainclothes patrols, assisting in arrests, and hunting down fugitives... Every single task could involve bloodshed and risking one's life. Are you willing now, after all?"

"It's not me. A friend asked me to help inquire about it for him."

Chen Cheng's expression was as usual, as though he were merely making casual conversation.

"He heard that the Patrol Guard Bureau has strict rules, and if he goes there, I wonder which chief would have jurisdiction over him? What is his temperament like? He wants to ask around in advance so he doesn't blindly run into bad luck."

"Hey! You're asking the right person this time!"

Qian Baolu relied entirely on matchmaking and connections to make money. Being cross-examined by someone of a cautious nature was already an everyday occurrence for him; he wasn't afraid of being asked—he only feared no one asking.

"Over at the South Third Guard, the ones currently managing the hunt for fugitives and solving murders are two chiefs. One is surnamed Sun, but he's too old and has already stepped back from the front lines... Newly arrived nominal martial artists will mostly be led by Chief Zhao Chuan. As for that man..."

He smacked his lips and lowered his voice.

"He is genuinely ruthless, a martial artist who has genuinely forged two wisps of Blood Qi, except... he's a bit sinister, handles affairs without regard for the rules, and shields his own fiercely. Those he trusts and is willing to heavily employ are mostly bound by blood or marriage."

"If your friend wants to stand firm under him... he needs to be observant, know how to handle things, and have a brain more nimble than his fists."

Chen Cheng listened closely, his face entirely unruffled as he casually echoed the sentiment.

"Then it sounds like it will be difficult..."

"Actually... there's still another path."

Qian Baolu thought for a moment and said.

"Chief Zhao has recently been frantically investigating the case of his second older brother, Zhao Shan, being murdered. If your friend can provide clues, or put in solid effort, he should be able to become his confidant."

"That makes it even harder..."

With an attitude as though it had nothing to do with him, Chen Cheng casually remarked.

"Many thanks for Senior Brother's guidance. I'll talk it over with my friend later. If he really is able to ride this wind and stand firm under Chief Zhao, there will definitely be a tea-money tip for Senior Brother!"

"Heh, now that sounds lovely!"

Qian Baolu grinned widely, patting his chest as he spoke.

"I'll say it again: if you don't understand anything in the future, just come right ahead and ask me."

Chen Cheng offered his thanks once more.

Afterward, the two of them chatted idly for a while, and the conversation somehow drifted back around to Xiao Yi before they knew it.

He also came from a poverty-stricken background, with his whole family tightening their belts to support him in learning martial arts. At first there was nothing special about him, but recently, he had progressed with astonishing speed as if suddenly enlightened, and had already gained the attention of the Inner Hall.

If not for this, Qian Baolu would not have stopped at merely cursing him with his tongue.

In the afternoon Chen Cheng returned home, dividing out half a tael of fragmented silver to sustain his mother's daily life.

"Mother, you shouldn't take on any more work from the Red Moon Nunnery from now on."

Chen Cheng lowered his voice and said.

"I saw Xiao Long this morning... He told me some things, and that Red Moon Nunnery... it cannot be touched. We should stay as far away from it as we possibly can."

"...Sigh, Mother will listen to you."

Madam Li nodded silently, murmuring under her breath.

"Actually, Mother had been harboring doubts in her heart all along... Where on earth does that nunnery get so much black cloth that it needs to be washed endlessly?"

"Moreover, every batch of fabric sent over emanates a weird odor. They claim it's the scent of incense, but it's mixed with something like... the sour, moldy stench of things rotting away..."

"Lafely, Aunt Zhang and the others have been constantly chattering on about ghostly rumors... Mother's heart hasn't been at ease, either."

Madam Li thought for a moment and quickly made up her mind.

"The next time there's any work from the Red Moon Nunnery, Mother will simply... just fake some minor illness and decline it."

Seeing that his mother had made her decision, Chen Cheng felt somewhat more at ease.

Without saying anything further, he turned and changed into his old set of tattered clothes, full of patches, and his pinching, worn-out rush sandals.

He carefully wrapped his martial arts training uniform and cloth shoes in a piece of old fabric, slinging them diagonally across his shoulder.

Then he vigorously ruffled his neatly combed hair, grabbed some stove ash from the wind-furnace, and smeared it across his cheeks, neck, and the backs of his hands.

Madam Li watched it all, but did not ask many questions.

She had figured things out long ago.

She lacked the ability to help her son with anything, and the only thing she could do was manage this mouth of hers well.

What shouldn't be asked, she wouldn't ask; what shouldn't be said, she wouldn't utter a single syllable of to the outside world.