Now I Don't Want to Talk to You—It's Annoying to Listen

Old Wu straightened up, his face still pale from surviving the ordeal, though his brows had knotted tightly.

He had served as a constable for half his life. Gratitude was gratitude, rules were rules, and professional instinct still overrode his emotions.

"Inspector Xu..."

He hesitated, seeming unsure how to phrase it.

Xu Jin turned his head and glanced at him.

"Speak plainly if you have something to say."

"Your subordinate merely thinks... isn't executing them on the spot somewhat against procedure?" Old Wu forced himself to say. "Under Great Yin's regular laws, any serious case involving human lives must be escorted to the prefectural judicial office, tried in court, statements recorded, and submitted for approval level by level."

Xu Jin was so angry that he laughed.

He had seen stupid people before.

But people this stubborn were rare.

"You handle ordinary civilian criminal cases. I handle cases involving heretics and demons."

"Mortals have mortal laws. Heretical cultivators and river bandits have the Demon Suppression Bureau's rules. What I do is reasonable and lawful."

"But you didn't say whether it followed procedure."

Old Wu stubbornly craned his neck, seizing on the gap in his words.

Xu Jin swept him a glance, impatience in his eyes.

"Procedure is for people who follow every step in order. If you have nothing better to do, you can submit a petition to the prefectural merit office afterward."

"Right now, I don't want to talk to you. It's annoying to listen to."

Old Wu choked.

He had not meant to pick a fight. He had simply spent half his life handling cases by the book, and when he suddenly saw such thunderous methods—executing first and reporting afterward—his instincts had driven him to pick at the legal code.

But after Xu Jin shut him down, he understood that he had been pushing his luck. The man had just saved his life, and he had turned around to nitpick his methods. It truly was ungrateful.

He opened his mouth, but in the end lowered his head and muttered, "Your subordinate knows his mistake."

The young constable beside him was so frightened he barely dared breathe, secretly tugging hard at Old Wu's sleeve.

This lord is the famed Molten-Gold Yama. He even dares to kill grandmasters on the spot. It was already good enough that he hadn't held it against you, yet you still had to keep pressing him.

At that moment, Wang Lei came over from the shore with a frown, clutching half a duty list in his hand, his face so bitter it seemed ready to drip water.

"Brother Xu, everything's been arranged. The brokers have been detained in the courtyard for now, and most of the stolen-goods ledgers have been sealed. The compensation list for the boatmen along the banks still needs to be checked slowly."

He sighed and complained under his breath, "Confiscation, accounts, compensation, pacification... just verifying the river-protection fees means running through more than a dozen villages up and down the river. It won't be finished in three to five days. Cleaning up this mess is more exhausting than fighting three battles."

Xu Jin glanced at him.

"Handling cases is your duty."

"When you came rushing over in such a panic to report to me, why didn't you complain that it was troublesome then?"

Wang Lei choked, then his shoulders slumped as he completely gave up.

"Fine, you're right about everything. Who made me your deputy? I'll clean up the mess."

After a pause, he remembered the important matter and added, "Oh, there are also River-Crossing Flood Dragon's two sworn brothers on shore. The second, Zhao Hu, manages the fleet and has formidable external martial arts; the third, Mr. Qian, handles the accounts and is the most meticulous. Neither of them ran or resisted during the inventory. They're just squatting in the courtyard, waiting for judgment. Shall I bring them over?"

Xu Jin lightly tapped the sword hilt with his fingertips, his gaze turned toward the brokerage on shore.

"Bring them over."

"I'd like to see whether they want to die with him or live."

Meanwhile, in the canal-shipping brokerage's courtyard on shore, the atmosphere was grave.

Zhao Hu stood bare-chested, the saber scars across his back vicious, his clenched fists cracking. Beneath his thick beard, his face was full of fury.

He was River-Crossing Flood Dragon's second brother. He managed the entire fleet and was the strongest fighter in the group.

"Big Brother is just gone like that?!"

"That Xu bastard charged in alone and killed Big Brother without even a word? I'll gather all the brothers right now and fight him to the death!"

Mr. Qian beside him raised a hand to press down his arm. His face was equally pale, but he was far calmer.

He was the third brother, in charge of all account books and business dealings. He was the most meticulous, and also the clearest on what mattered.

"Second Brother, don't act rashly."

"Fight? With what? The life-bound flood dragon baleful spirit Big Brother had nurtured for more than a decade couldn't even withstand a single move from him. With the few men we have, going up there would be serving ourselves on a platter."

Zhao Hu's eyes were red, his chest heaving violently.

"Then what do we do? Does Big Brother just die for nothing? We've run rampant on the canal for so many years, and now we don't even dare let out a fart? How are we supposed to keep standing afterward?"

Mr. Qian clasped his hands behind his back and paced two steps around the courtyard, lowering his voice.

"You and I both know what kind of business Big Brother has been doing all these years. Smuggling yin objects, colluding with Profound Yin Hall, detaining people from the Demon Suppression Bureau—any one of those is a capital crime. If this really went to trial, he would still end up executed without delay."

"But you and I are different."

"We only handled the accounts and the fleet. Our hands have never been stained by murder, nor have we touched the core trade in yin objects. Our crimes don't warrant death."

Zhao Hu froze, clearly never having considered it from that angle.

Mr. Qian stopped and looked toward Backwater Bay, unconcealed dread in his voice.

"Haven't you heard the name Molten-Gold Yama?"

"Zhou Qing, the branch hall master of Profound Yin Hall, was an early-stage grandmaster. Didn't he still fall into Xu Jin's hands?"

"This man's strength and ruthlessness are simply beyond anything we can touch."

The fury on Zhao Hu's face gradually faded.

Yet he still could not swallow this humiliation, and muttered, "Are we really going to go beg for forgiveness? That's too humiliating! How will we ever make a living on the canal afterward?"

Mr. Qian sighed, his tone growing heavy.

"Those of us in canal shipping trade our lives for money, then use money to buy our lives."

"We enjoyed the glory when we were making fast money. Now that something has gone wrong, we have to accept the loss."

He paused, laying out the stakes piece by piece. "We take the thorn branches upon our backs and plead guilty, hand over every account book and every coin of stolen money, and spill all the leads on the downstream hidden ports and the Chenla supply sources. That counts as atoning for our crimes with merit. What the Demon Suppression Bureau wants is the entire smuggling route and the remnants of Profound Yin Hall, not two tiny fish like us."

"If we insist on fighting, not only will we fail to avenge Big Brother, we'll both be dragged down with him, and the little foundation he built will be utterly finished. Keep the people alive, and there will at least be a chance in the future."

Zhao Hu remained silent for a long time.

His fists clenched and loosened, loosened and clenched, until his knuckles turned white.

At last, he slammed his fist viciously into a corridor pillar, shaking dust from the wooden beams.

"We'll do as you say!"

"I'll keep this life of mine for now. If he really tries to wipe us all out, then at worst, the fish dies and the net splits!"

Seeing him relent, Mr. Qian also breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned and instructed his men to bring coarse hemp rope and thorn branches. He also had them sort out every account book, warehouse key, and token of correspondence, arranging them neatly on a wooden tray.

"Wait."

Just as Zhao Hu was about to leave, Mr. Qian called him back.

He picked up a thorn branch, untied his outer robe, and lashed his own back three times.

The sharp thorns tore through his flesh, blood streaming down his spine, yet his expression did not change. He did not even furrow his brow.

"Only if we put on a convincing display will our chances of survival be greater."

Zhao Hu looked at the bloody marks on his back, gritted his teeth, and also grabbed a thorn branch to lash his own back twice.

"Let's go."

"Whether we live or die depends on this."

The two men went bare-chested, thorn branches upon their backs, walking step by step toward Backwater Bay.

Mr. Qian carried a tray piled high with account books and tokens, his footsteps steady;

Zhao Hu's back was taut as a fully drawn bow, though several traces of unease lay hidden in his eyes.