Auspicious Signs in the River, Illicit Shrines to a Wild God

The candlelight flickered in the Quiet Chamber, stretching the two men's shadows across the mottled wall.

The moment Pang Song pushed open the door, his gaze swept casually over the chamber where Chu Bai worked.

He had imagined that Chu Bai, a prodigy from the Dao Academy and a rising star fresh from a great achievement, would have put some care into his workspace, even if it was not luxurious.

A few antiques or paintings, perhaps, or a fine tea set. Such things were commonplace among officials.

Instead, what he saw made even a seasoned hand like him feel a chill.

Apart from the necessary bed, table, and chair, the room was practically bare.

There were no extra decorations, not even a decent ornament.

Only case files filled his view, piled up like mountains. Some were stacked neatly at the corner of the table; others lay scattered beside the bed, plainly handled often.

The air carried a faint scent of ink and old paper, but none of the intoxicating bustle of worldly life.

He truly is an ascetic cultivator...

Pang Song silently affixed that label to Chu Bai.

People who wanted nothing and devoted themselves wholly to official work and cultivation were often the hardest to deal with.

They had no weakness to seize upon. Money, beauty, pleasure—methods that worked on ordinary people were useless against them.

Such a person was like a sharp blade without a sheath: capable of wounding enemies and its wielder alike, and all the harder to control.

"I hope I haven't disturbed your rest by visiting so late, Patrol Banner Chu?"

Pang Song gathered his thoughts and put on a measured smile, neither fawning nor discourteous.

"You're too polite, Captain Pang."

Chu Bai gestured for Pang Song to sit, his expression calm. "I still had