The Pacification Bureau

"Ow, ow, ow, ow-"

Zhao Fugui was in so much pain that all he wanted to do was curse!

What had just happened? Had that little bastard slapped him?

Impossible!

How could this mud-legged peasant possibly have such earth-shattering strength?!

Though he questioned it inwardly, he neither dared nor had the presence of mind to provoke Lin He again.

Clutching his unbearably painful hand, he ran straight for the village apothecary.

"Oh dear! What are we going to do? Boy, you've offended this local emperor beyond all hope now!"

Watching Zhao Fugui run off with his face twisted in pain, Old Man Sun could not help voicing his concern.

"It's fine, Elder Sun. Put your mind at ease."

Lin He chuckled, not taking this mere village head seriously at all.

"Want these crabs? Take them and sell them. Just give me half afterward."

Old Man Sun looked at the net bag full of Golden-Backed Blue Claw Crabs and could not help swallowing.

"You're... really giving them to me? Boy, I won't stand on ceremony!"

"What ceremony? Go ahead and take them!"

Unconcerned, Lin He handed him the net bag, waved, and headed home.

This trip had only been to probe Golden Lake's secrets. Having learned more or less what he wanted, there was no need to linger.

Next time, he would bring Ingot along and search thoroughly. Perhaps he really could find some treasure.

After midday, Lin He was beside the pool in the backyard, feeding Ingot the fish scraps left over from yesterday. The snapping turtle, as big as a washbasin, blew bubbles contentedly in the water, while Goudan wagged his short yellow-and-black tail beside him, frantically rubbing against Lin He's trouser leg to compete for his affection.

"Bang-crack!"

A sudden crash shattered the peace.

Someone viciously kicked open Lin He's already flimsy wooden courtyard gate. Its hinges gave a mournful squeal, and it sagged to one side.

"Damn it, coming out to this place where birds won't even shit in the middle of the day. What rotten luck!" a coarse voice boomed at the courtyard entrance.

Lin He brushed his fishy-smelling hands together and walked unhurriedly out of the backyard. His brows lifted slightly as his gaze swept over the uninvited visitors in the courtyard.

At their head was a man wearing a blue-green constable's uniform, with a standard-issue iron ruler hanging at his waist. Flesh bulged across his face, and he strutted with his toes splayed, acknowledging neither kith nor kin. Two attendant bailiffs followed with their arms folded. Behind those three, timidly poking half his body out, was none other than Golden Lake Village's village head, Zhao Fugui, whom Lin He had just slapped.

Zhao Fugui had clearly come prepared. His right hand was swollen like a purplish-black steamed bun, suspended from his neck by a few strips of rag. He was staring fixedly at Lin He with a look mingling venom and smugness.

"Cousin, that's him!" Zhao Fugui pointed at Lin He and accused him through gritted teeth. "This unruly peasant relied on his brute strength to forcibly seize the catch, then openly assaulted me, the village head! His moves were vicious. He's nothing like an ordinary refugee from Emerald Mountain Village. He might well be an accomplice of some bandits on the run!"

Oh, what a towering accusation.

Lin He sneered inwardly.

"So you're Lin He?" Head Constable Zhao De, the man addressed as cousin, looked Lin He up and down.

Though Lin He was tall and powerfully built, Zhao De saw no fluctuations of Spiritual Qi from him, and his clothes were those of a destitute resettled refugee. He immediately felt assured. Early that morning, Zhao Fugui had hurried into town on a donkey cart to pour out his grievances, promising him ten taels of silver as payment. Zhao De had been worrying about having nothing to show for this month's public security record. Was this not a fat sheep delivered right to his door?

"Gathering a crowd to cause trouble, assaulting a village head, and suspected collusion with Bandit Cultivators and mountain bandits." Zhao De sneered, drew the refined-steel chain from his waist, and shook it with a clatter. "Boy, you've got some nerve. Since Golden Lake Village falls under the town's jurisdiction, you'll follow the authorities' rules. Chain him up and take him back to the yamen for rigorous questioning!"

The two attendant bailiffs moved at his command, drawing their iron rulers and reaching to lay them across Lin He's neck.

Lin He stood where he was without moving a step.

He quietly watched those dark refined-steel chains and iron rulers, weighing the pros and cons in an instant. After three rounds of body tempering with Essence of the Sun, his flesh, sinews, and bones had long since reached an inhuman level. Especially after the second tempering, ordinary mortal blades could not even leave a white mark on him.

If these two small fry brought their iron rulers down, Lin He could guarantee that his neck would remain completely unscathed, while both iron rulers would snap on the spot.

But therein lay the problem.

Tank the blows? Once that ringing clash of metal against stone sounded, these bailiffs would definitely scream "unnatural" as though they had seen a ghost, and might even report me as an Evil Cultivator. If that brought in the cultivators behind the authorities, the trouble would never end. My current strategy is to "lie low and develop." I absolutely cannot reveal my trump card of being impervious to blades and spears in front of mortals.

No fighting. I need to use my head.

"Head Constable Zhao, was it?" Lin He folded his arms across his chest, his voice utterly calm, even carrying a hint of mockery. "Before arresting someone, shouldn't you first establish whose jurisdiction this place actually falls under?"

Zhao De froze briefly, then flew into a rage. "Insolence! I'm the town yamen's head constable! Of all the mortal villages for dozens of li around, where don't I have jurisdiction-"

"Creak-"

Before Zhao De could finish, the wooden door of the main room behind Lin He was suddenly pushed open a crack from within.

A cool, steady female voice, bearing a certain unquestionable composure, drifted lightly through the gap.

"How imposing you are, Head Constable Zhao. Unfortunately, I suspect you haven't even read the 'Golden Lake Resettlement Regulations' issued by your own yamen?"

The men in the courtyard all froze.

A pale, slender hand reached through the gap in the door, holding a piece of white cloth covered in inked words, and gave it a light shake. Those were the notes Su Qiuran had casually copied down the previous night.

"In the three hundred and forty-second year of the Great Chu calendar, the Pacification Bureau issued a decree." Seated in her wheelchair inside the room, Su Qiuran's voice drifted out. "For all refugees evacuated in connection with immortal sect ruins, household registration and jurisdiction shall temporarily fall under the direct administration of the Pacification Bureau during resettlement. Only after three years may they be transferred to the local mortal yamen."

Su Qiuran paused, a trace of icy mockery entering her voice. "Head Constable Zhao, the failure of the seal at Green Mountain's Mass Grave was a major incident that even cultivation Lineages intervened in. We are refugees whose resettlement was specially approved by the Pacification Bureau. We count as half-registered with the cultivators."

From behind the door, her voice suddenly rose, each word striking the ground with force. "You're a mere mortal head constable from the front courtyard of a town yamen. Crossing jurisdictional boundaries to arrest someone is one thing, but you dare overstep your authority and interfere with resettled Households under the Pacification Bureau's direct administration? Where is your written summons for questioning? Does it bear the Law Seal of a cultivation elder of the Pacification Bureau?!"

That final question struck Zhao De square in the chest like a heavy hammer.

Zhao De's expression changed in an instant, going from red to ashen, then from ashen to white. His hand holding the chain froze in midair, and a fine sheen of cold sweat visibly seeped across his forehead.

"The... Pacification Bureau?" Zhao De swallowed.