As Gojo and Zhang Jingqing continued forward, they soon found an inn and walked inside.
After asking the shopkeeper for a table and ordering a pot of tea, the two sat down, casually observing their surroundings while conversing.
"What did you notice along the way?"
After the waiter finished pouring the tea, Zhang Jingqing took a sip and asked.
"Oppression, numbness, suffering, fear…"
Gojo answered without hesitation, listing everything he had felt.
Zhang Jingqing nodded and continued,
"And what do you think is the cause?"
"The county magistrate is the problem."
As he spoke, Gojo turned his gaze toward the direction of the yamen.
At this time, warlords were fighting across the land. Although local governments nominally obeyed the Republic, in reality they acted on their own authority.
Many magistrates imposed excessive taxes under all kinds of pretexts.
Some had even collected taxes decades into the future.
And the expressions on the faces of the townspeople here were filled with fear—as if some kind of demon haunted the city.
Clearly, the source of all this lay with the magistrate.
"Shopkeeper, do you know what's been happening in the city?"
After finishing the pot of tea, Gojo carried the kettle over and asked in a low voice,
"Why are the streets so deserted?"
Hearing this, the shopkeeper cautiously glanced outside before lowering his voice.
"Taoist master, judging by your accent, you're not from around here, are you?"
"What do you mean? Is this place unfriendly to outsiders?"
Gojo looked at him with confusion.
The shopkeeper shook his head and whispered,
"After you've rested, please leave as soon as possible. If someone finds out… your master might be fine, but you won't be able to leave."
"Hm?"
Gojo grew even more puzzled.
What did he mean by his master would be fine, but he wouldn't?
Could it be that the magistrate had… certain preferences, targeting strong young men?
If that were the case, then with his appearance and well-built physique, this really wasn't a place he should linger.
"Master, the magistrate here is definitely suspicious. Should we—"
Gojo hurried back to his seat and spoke in a low voice.
Before he could finish—
Zhang Zhiwei walked into the inn and plopped down beside him.
"Master, I've gathered some information."
"The magistrate here has gone mad recently. For the past month, he's been sending soldiers to arrest people—specifically strong adult men!"
"And once they're thrown into the prison, they're never seen again. Logically, the prison should already be full, but he's still arresting more."
"So I suspect the magistrate has a problem—very likely one of those All-Embracing heretics who use human lives to cultivate!"
Zhang Zhiwei grabbed a teacup, downed it in one gulp, and laid out everything he had learned.
"All-Embracing…"
Gojo frowned slightly.
The All-Embracing Sect was an ancient heretical faction in this world, founded by Yang Zhu, one of the philosophers of the Warring States period.
Their doctrine was:
"To pluck a single hair to benefit the world—I would not do it. To take a single hair at the world's expense—I would not do it either."
But its followers only remembered the first half, forgetting the second.
As a result, the modern All-Embracing Sect had become a gathering of selfish individuals who took without restraint and gave nothing in return.
Now, they were nothing more than a notorious evil organization, hated by all.
And joining them required no qualifications—anyone could simply declare themselves a member.
Because of this, their ranks were a chaotic mix: true villains, opportunists, and fools alike.
Yet if you rounded them all up and executed nine out of ten—
There would still be plenty left behind.
After hearing Zhang Zhiwei's explanation, Zhang Jingqing took another sip of tea and asked calmly,
"And where did you get this information?"
"Uh… well…"
Zhang Zhiwei's body stiffened instantly, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
"Yeah, senior brother, how did you find out so much?" Gojo asked curiously. "Where did you get all this information?"
He himself had questioned the shopkeeper for quite some time just to get a little information.
How had Zhang Zhiwei gathered so much in such a short time?
"Cough… cough…"
"Master, the county yamen's men tried to arrest me just now. So I beat them up a bit… and got the information from them."
Zhang Zhiwei scratched his head awkwardly as he revealed the truth.
"You rebellious disciple!"
"I told you to gather information—is this how you do it?!"
Zhang Jingqing's face darkened, looking utterly exasperated.
"Well… at least I did get the information, didn't I?"
Zhang Zhiwei grinned sheepishly.
"That's not the point!"
"What if the magistrate really is an All-Embracing demon, and because of your actions, he gets alerted and escapes?!"
As he spoke, Zhang Jingqing stood up and strode out of the inn, heading straight for the yamen.
Zhang Zhiwei quickly followed behind.
"Master, don't worry! Those guys I knocked out won't wake up for at least a day. The magistrate won't find out!"
"Gojo, go to the yamen and see what's really going on."
Zhang Jingqing sighed and said,
"Be careful."
Then he turned to Zhang Zhiwei.
"As for you—come with me!"
With that, he slapped Zhang Zhiwei on the head and dragged him away.
Watching them leave, Gojo thought for a moment before heading openly toward the yamen.
But after passing through two streets and entering a narrow alley—
Several burly men carrying clubs silently appeared behind him, surrounding him.
The leader sized Gojo up, a smile spreading across his face.
"Taoist master, our magistrate would like to invite you. Please come with us."
"The magistrate? Why would he invite a humble Taoist like me?"
Gojo took a step back, deliberately putting on a fearful expression. Even his tone carried a hint of weakness.
"Of course it's for something good," the man sneered.
"Don't worry—our magistrate won't treat you poorly."
"But if you refuse…"
He glanced at his companions.
"My brothers here don't exactly know how to hold back."
"Alright, alright—I'll go with you. Just… please don't hurt me."
Under their gaze, Gojo continued to act timid and submissive, his entire demeanor shrinking as if he were truly afraid.
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