Evening was falling.
"Get inside!"
Thirteen criminals stood in a row, trembling like chaff in a sieve, as they were shoved into the sinister Imperial Prison, where daylight never reached.
Jia Huan stood behind them with his hands clasped behind his back and barked:
"Fathead Fish, Skinny Monkey, give these beasts a taste of torture!"
"Yes, sir!" His two subordinates wore savage expressions.
Jia Huan strolled alone to a locust tree several yards away. His mind went hazy for an instant, and portraits of the criminals appeared on the panel.
[Sin Value—ninth-rank lower, ninth-rank middle, ninth-rank lower, ninth-rank lower...] [Rewards-Iron Sand Palm, Crane Cry Fist, Snow-Treading Without a Trace, Qingyi Sword Technique...] [Experience points-203/1000]
Boom!
An unfathomable power poured into his Dantian. His inner qi surged like steam rising from a vast marsh, and the blood throughout his body began to seethe.
The second level of the Postnatal Realm!
There was little joy on Jia Huan's face.
It was already his eighth day as a Great Banner.
He had toiled without pause, working day and night. He had not returned to the manor to sleep for several days, and the six men under him had been dragged into all-night surveillance and investigations.
His contribution had increased considerably, but the cases were too minor!
Most of the Sin Values were at the lowest level, ninth rank.
Many other cases involved offenses such as "recklessly discussing state affairs" and "slandering court officials"—people charged for their words. He tossed those aside without handling them. First, these people had no Sin Value. Second, he had a conscience and could tell right from wrong. He would not arrest brave souls who dared speak frankly against their superiors.
Even the smallest fly had meat on it, and he enjoyed hunting down murderous, plundering villains. Yet he had already cleared the entire backlog.
There was no work left!
How could Jia Huan not fret?
"I want to get ahead so badly!"
Jia Huan felt forlorn.
"Lord Jia, I'd like to go home and rest." Twin Whips and Drunkard approached, both utterly exhausted.
Even a donkey would not be worked this hard. They were so tired they wanted to collapse and sleep right there.
"Go ahead." Jia Huan waved a hand. "Thank you for your hard work."
"You've worked harder than any of us, my lord." Drunkard's admiration was heartfelt.
No wonder he could shoulder responsibility on his own at such a young age. He had so much drive, his eyes lit up whenever he saw a case. Would there be any justice under heaven if Lord Jia did not rise in rank and fortune?
Although exhausted, he had not a word of complaint. When trouble arose, Lord Jia truly stepped up.
Zhongling Street.
A cramped incense and candle shop had yellow paper displayed outside its door. The interior was dark, lit only by a single flickering candle.
Three coffins were stacked in a corner, and behind them, five monks actually sat side by side!
One monk with large ears watched the distant street through a gap and asked doubtfully:
"We've been waiting for two days and two nights. Does that little bastard not take this road?"
The thick-browed monk leading them remained patient and said calmly:
"He has to pass this way to return to Ningrong Street."
They had avoided setting their ambush on Ningrong Street mainly because a constabulary post there conducted security patrols, with guards and mounted troops stationed on site. They did not want to be surrounded with no way out.
"Anyone who meddles should be struck down by heaven's thunder. Since heaven has turned a blind eye, I swear to avenge Junior Brother Yuan Si!"
"That damned little bastard!"
"He likes playing the hero, does he?"
"I'll make him crawl on the ground like a stray dog and suffer every humiliation before he dies!"
A monk whose face brimmed with viciousness spewed curses.
The six fellow disciples had enjoyed carefree, comfortable lives ever since leaving the No-Killing Temple in Jiangzhou. They had never expected to lose one of their brothers in the Divine Capital. Though Junior Brother Yuan Si was reckless and heedless of consequences, he had originally had a chance to escape pursuit-until that hateful little bastard appeared out of nowhere!
They were as close as flesh and blood. This vengeance had to be taken, or their junior brother would never rest easy beneath the Nine Springs.
"Is that him?"
The large-eared monk's eyes widened.
At the far end of the long street, someone in a Flying Fish Uniform was strolling along at ease.
"Quick, take a look." The other monks immediately pulled out a portrait.
They had interrogated a shopkeeper who had witnessed the incident and drawn the scoundrel's likeness from his account.
The large-eared monk studied the portrait carefully, then looked up at the young man in the Flying Fish Uniform drawing ever closer.
"That's the little bastard. I'll eat his flesh raw!" His eyes bulged with fury.
Murder flashed in the thick-browed monk's eyes, but his habitual composure held, and he reminded them quietly:
"Once we kill this fiend, leave the capital according to plan. We must not split up!"
As his words fell, he smashed a coffin lid open with one punch, took a black monk's staff from beneath it, and darted out of the incense shop.
The large-eared monk followed close behind.
The other three monks pushed open the shop's back door, circled through an alley, and moved straight to cut off the retreat.
Two monks blocked the road.
One held a monk's staff; the other cradled a sword against his chest.
Neither possessed the kindly expression of a man of the cloth. Their faces were those of savage demons.
Hearing heavy footsteps behind him, Jia Huan turned and saw three more bald asses.
"Kneel!"
The large-eared monk's voice was hoarse. That single word brimmed with murderous intent.
He wanted to see his enemy kneeling on the ground in fear, trembling and regretting what he had done.
But none of that happened.
The youth looked startled, then excited.
"What are you smiling at?" The thick-browed monk approached step by step, his staff dragging a long groove through the bluestone paving and sending sparks flying.
Jia Huan's smile did not fade. Someone had delivered a pillow just as he grew sleepy-how could he not be delighted?
His Embroidered Spring Saber slid from its sheath. He held the hilt lightly, sank his breath into his Dantian, and filled every aperture of his body with inner qi.
"A martial artist at the second level of the Postnatal Realm, at such a young age. No wonder you captured our junior brother alive."
A flicker of alarm crossed the thick-browed monk's eyes, but he felt no fear. Deep in his gaze, there was even a trace of greed.
This boy must possess a superior internal energy cultivation method. I must make it mine!
Unlike their unruly, lazy youngest junior brother, who had only reached the peak of entry-level cultivation, all of them were at least at the second level of the Postnatal Realm. He himself was at the fourth level of the Postnatal Realm. Killing this little scoundrel would be as easy as turning over his hand.
Jia Huan looked at the thick-browed bald ass and said casually:
"See that tower in the distance? Once someone fires a Signal Arrow, the Patrol Office guards from the three surrounding streets will all come running. You'd better attack together instead of wasting any more time."
If the street's Patrol Office interfered, it would reduce his contribution for nothing. How irritating would that be?
What?
The large-eared monk's face darkened. So young, yet his arrogance knew no bounds!
"Interesting. I enjoy teaching fools who don't know the height of heaven or the depth of earth a lesson."
As he spoke, the thick-browed monk pushed off with his toes and hurtled forward. Inner qi gathered in his palms as he swung his staff hard. It traced a beautiful arc through the air, then descended with savage force, capable of pulverizing anything in its path.
Jia Huan did not move from his spot. He merely raised his saber and chopped at the staff.
"To behold me is to behold the heavens themselves. An ant like you dares resist..."
Halfway through his words, the thick-browed monk went rigid.
The saber stroke looked utterly unremarkable, yet it seemed to freeze the air. In an instant, overwhelming baleful energy engulfed him, as though all the resentment of the bones piled within the Imperial Prison had gathered and come crashing down like floodwaters through a shattered dam.
Boom!
At the collision, the staff could not withstand even a single chop.
It snapped in two!
The thick-browed monk suffered a tremendous backlash and staggered several steps backward. His arms shook uncontrollably, and his palms were mangled and bloody.
The other four monks felt as though they had plunged into an ice cellar. They stared in disbelief. One simple saber stroke had repelled the supreme move their eldest brother took such pride in?
This was the second level of the Postnatal Realm?
Before you continue