The welcome banquet was set in an elegant private chamber in the side hall of the Night-Watch Bureau.
Though it was called a welcome banquet, this was, after all, an official's domain. The dishes lacked the extravagant refinement of Zuixian Tower, but they made up for it with hearty portions and solid ingredients, all carrying the bold, soldierly air of men of the ranks.
After three rounds of wine, Vice-Commander Liu set down his cup, and his eyes — seemingly casual — swept once over Gu Chengming.
Earlier, outside the city, the distance had been too great, and the spirit-light of the flying boat had obscured his view. He had not been able to see clearly.
Now, observing up close, doubts began to stir in his heart.
"First realm, ninth layer?"
Vice-Commander Liu was secretly astonished.
By all past custom, when the great sects sent inner-court disciples down the mountain to temper themselves, which of them did not start from the second realm?
After all, although the Great Qian was held in check by its dragon energy, that energy was meant to ward off great demons and great fiends. The strange cases and human malice that pervaded the Capital, inside and out — without at least a second-realm cultivation base to lean on, never mind tempering oneself, even self-preservation would be difficult.
Yet this youth before him, though his aura was harmonious and rounded, was truly and unmistakably only at the first realm.
What was even more inscrutable was that the Wenjian Sect had actually dispatched a third-realm elder to escort him.
It must be understood: although Yu Wenqiu had once drifted through her days at the Night-Watch Bureau, she was, at the very least, a true and proper elder of the Wenjian Sect.
For a sect to have a full elder lower herself and serve as a "Dao-guarding companion" for a first-realm disciple…
His background was likely no small matter.
Countless thoughts flashed through Vice-Commander Liu's mind. Could this be Sect Leader Shen's illegit— ahem, direct-line descendant?
Or perhaps the closed-door disciple of some Grand Elder?
As he thought of this, the smile on Vice-Commander Liu's face grew ever more radiant, and without realizing it he leaned forward slightly, probing as he asked:
"Chengming, this Great Qian is not like up on the mountain — the waters here run very deep. Let me ask one prying question: in sending you down this time, did the sect have any… ahem, particular instructions?"
With Gu Chengming's keen perception, he saw through the man's thoughts at a glance.
He set down his chopsticks, and rather than answering directly, he gave a vague smile:
"My honored sect-uncle the Sect Leader, and my master, did indeed have certain instructions, but they were nothing more than the usual words about tempering oneself in the mortal world and broadening one's horizons. As for anything else — that depends on opportunity."
That single "sect-uncle the Sect Leader," combined with those two trailing words, "opportunity," landed in Vice-Commander Liu's ears as nothing short of confirmation.
So he really did have great backing!
Vice-Commander Liu put on a face of "we both know what's going on," personally filled Gu Chengming's cup, and grew three measures warmer in his manner than before.
Gu Chengming lifted his cup, but his gaze drifted, unintentionally, to the side.
Yu Wenqiu was sitting bolt upright, chopsticks pinched in her hand, eyes fixed on a plate of soy-braised beef before her — yet she didn't dare reach for it.
Her tightly wound bearing left not a single trace of the dignity of a sect elder.
Gu Chengming found it rather amusing in his heart.
All along this journey — passing through the city gate, entering the Night-Watch Bureau, and stepping into this private chamber — he had taken pains to observe carefully. Whether it was how one crossed a threshold, how a teacup was placed, or how the seating at the banquet was arranged, there were indeed some niceties, but they were nowhere near as terrifying as Elder Yu had made them out to be on the flying boat.
Things like "step with the wrong foot and you're rude," "say the wrong word and they pin a label on you" — there was nothing of the sort.
"Looks like it must have been Elder Yu scaring herself back then — making up all those rules in her own head?"
Gu Chengming had his own conclusion.
Watching Yu Wenqiu fidget so uncomfortably in her seat, something stirred faintly in him.
But no matter what, she was his own sect's elder. He couldn't very well leave her stranded in this awkwardness.
So Gu Chengming gave a light cough and, with utmost naturalness, steered the topic elsewhere.
"Commander Liu, to be honest, this disciple's descent from the mountain is not only for tempering. There is, in fact, another matter — I wish to follow in Elder Yu's footsteps."
Oh?
Vice-Commander Liu blinked, and subconsciously glanced at Yu Wenqiu, who at that moment was counting grains of rice:
"Follow… Centurion Yu?"
"Exactly."
Gu Chengming's expression was perfectly solemn, his tone carrying a touch of reverence:
"Commander, you may not know this, but within the sect, Elder Yu is famously low-key. Day to day she keeps herself in seclusion, neither flaunting her mountains nor displaying her rivers. Yet whenever the sect faces calamity, or a disciple meets a bottleneck in cultivation, Elder Yu can always cut to the bone with a single word and guide them through the maze."
"Especially in recent years, Elder Yu's cultivation has advanced by leaps and bounds, and her attainment in the way of the sword has reached the realm of consummate mastery. In the recent grand sect tournament, although the Elder did not deign to take the field herself, the mere bearing she showed in guiding the younger generation left countless disciples in deep admiration."
"When I was still in the sect, I often heard it said that during Elder Yu's wanderings through the Great Qian in those years, she 'finished the matter and brushed her sleeves clean, leaving both body and name buried deep.' Seeing today how courteously the Commander treats the Elder, I know now that the rumors are not empty!"
Through this entire speech, Gu Chengming's face did not redden, nor did his heart skip a beat.
Although most of it was built on facts — "Elder Yu really is an elder," "her cultivation really has advanced" — after such a deft hand at editorial embroidery, Yu Wenqiu was instantly transformed from "a slacker who only knows how to coast" into "a wise sage masking her brilliance, a transcendent master hidden in plain sight."
Vice-Commander Liu listened, dumbstruck.
He took another, more careful, look at Yu Wenqiu.
In his memory of those old days, this Centurion Yu did indeed seem to have been a person of few words, never one to snatch credit, always hanging back behind the others on every mission.
But now, with Gu Chengming framing it this way… could it be that, back then, she had simply disdained to fight over credit?
Add to that the fact that Yu Wenqiu was now a genuine third-realm elder — that cultivation could not be faked.
"So that's how it was…"
Vice-Commander Liu had a sudden moment of clarity. The contempt in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a kind of solemn respect:
"To think Elder Yu was such a person of lofty and unsullied virtue!"
So saying, he actually took the initiative to raise his cup, toasting Yu Wenqiu.
Yu Wenqiu was still in a daze when she suddenly heard this volley of flattery. Her whole being went a bit light and floaty.
So in young Gu's eyes, I'm this magnificent?
So I have such prestige within the sect?
"Ahem… not at all, not at all."
Yu Wenqiu hurriedly raised her own cup. Inside, her heart was blossoming with joy, but on the surface she still had to maintain a master's reserve. She waved her hand and let out a string of not-very-clever giggles:
"Heh heh heh… empty names, just empty names…"
With this little interlude, the atmosphere at the table grew considerably warmer.
The meal was eaten to the satisfaction of both host and guests.
Just before the gathering broke up, Vice-Commander Liu wiped his mouth, his expression sobering slightly, and began to address the official business:
"Chengming, since you've come to temper yourself, then according to the agreements between our Great Qian and the great sects, the most fitting posting for you is, naturally, with the Night-Watch Bureau."
"This Night-Watch Bureau is called a government office, but it answers directly to His Majesty — you might even say it stands independent of the court. We concern ourselves only with slaying demons and exorcising fiends, not with the scheming and infighting of the court."
"Those princes and dukes, the ministers of the Six Boards — no matter how great their rank, none of them have the standing to lay a finger on the cases of our Night-Watch Bureau. By taking a post here, you can both encounter all manner of strange cases to temper your sword-heart and spare yourself a great deal of unnecessary bureaucratic socializing. It's as quiet a posting as you could hope for."
Gu Chengming nodded. This was exactly to his liking — besides, he still had that token of the Hall of Punishment and Law in his keeping. With both safeguards in hand, the Great Qian was, to him, as flat as level ground beneath his feet.
"My thanks for the Commander's guidance. Once this disciple has settled in, I'll report to the Bureau tomorrow."
"Excellent!"
Vice-Commander Liu laughed heartily and personally saw the two of them all the way to the gates of the Night-Watch Bureau.
As they emerged from the Bureau, the sky was already nearing dusk.
The streets of the Capital still bustled with carriages and horses, the shops on either side hanging up their lanterns, the whole scene one of flourishing prosperity.
Yu Wenqiu walked beside Gu Chengming with a light, springy step — clearly in extremely good spirits.
Just now at the banquet, Gu Chengming had not only rescued her from her predicament, but had lifted her up so high that she had thoroughly shown her face in front of her old colleagues.
"Um… young Gu."
Yu Wenqiu clasped her hands behind her back, gave a light cough, and said somewhat sheepishly:
"Earlier, thank you."
"Why does the Elder say such a thing?"
Gu Chengming smiled, his tone natural: "This disciple only spoke the truth — I was simply being honest, that's all."
Yu Wenqiu, coaxed by this "simply being honest" into not knowing which way was up, could no longer keep up her elderly composure.
She glanced at the streets around them, and suddenly her eyes lit up. She volunteered enthusiastically:
"All right, no more wandering around out here. It's getting late — we have to find a place to stay first."
"This Capital? I know it!"
Yu Wenqiu patted her chest, her face full of confidence:
"Back in the day, in this very Capital, I stayed at the finest inns and drank the most expensive wines. Finding an inn — such a trivial matter — just leave it to me! I guarantee you'll be lodged in absolute comfort!"
Hearing this, Gu Chengming had no objection: "Then I'll trouble the Elder to lead the way."
"Follow me!"
Yu Wenqiu swept her arm in a grand gesture and led Gu Chengming across the bustling main avenue, turning into a somewhat quieter alley, then twisting and winding through one turn after another, going further and further off the beaten path.
After roughly a quarter-hour of walking.
The two of them stopped before a wooden building that gave off a distinct air of "historical significance."
The building stood three stories tall, with flying eaves and upturned corners — one could still faintly make out the elegance it must once have possessed.
Only…
The originally vermilion gates were now peeling, their paint flaking off to reveal the grey-white wood beneath. The two lanterns hanging at the entrance — one was punched through with a hole, the other had simply gone out altogether, swinging precariously in the wind.
Even the wooden plaque bearing the three large characters "Rain-Listening Pavilion" hung askew, looking ready to drop down and brain a passerby at any moment.
At the gate, a few people who looked like beggars were huddled in a sheltered spot. When they saw the newcomers approach, they only lazily lifted their eyelids — not even rousing themselves enough to beg for coin.
Gu Chengming stood at the entrance, gazing at this scene of bleak dilapidation, and the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
He turned his head, glanced at the equally stunned Yu Wenqiu beside him, and spoke with a trace of hesitation in his voice:
"Elder… this is the finest inn in the Capital that you spoke of?"
Yu Wenqiu blinked. And then blinked again.
She raised her head and confirmed the words on the plaque.
No mistake — it really was the Rain-Listening Pavilion.
Back in the day, this had been the favorite gathering place of the Capital's literati and ink-brushers — a haven of refined tranquility, never an empty seat in the house.
In her time, she had saved up her stipend for ages just to splurge on a single night's stay here. She had even left a poem on its wall!
How had it become this ghastly state of affairs?
"This… well, that is…"
Yu Wenqiu's eyes wandered. She shrank back guiltily, even her voice losing its confidence:
"It should be, right?"
"Maybe… perhaps over these few decades, the proprietor has changed? The style has changed?"
She forced out a dry laugh, trying to salvage her dignity:
"Or perhaps… they call this returning to simplicity? The greatest hermit conceals himself in the marketplace? Why don't we go in and have a look? Who knows — maybe inside it's a different world?"
Gu Chengming sighed. Inwardly, he could only resign himself.
"All right, then let's go in and see."
Although the Rain-Listening Pavilion looked, from the outside, like a derelict structure that hadn't been repaired in decades — its plaque ready at any moment to drop and crack someone's skull — once inside, things weren't quite as awful as one might have imagined.
The floorboards, though old, were polished until they gleamed, showing the original grain of the wood. The guest rooms were simply furnished — a wooden bed, a set of table and chairs. Although there was none of the lavish configuration of a spirit-gathering array, the bedding was crisp and new, carrying the dry, clean scent of having been sunned.
One could tell that, in an effort to recover the "face" she had lost along the journey, Elder Yu had put considerable thought into this lodging arrangement.
"Young Gu — this place is quiet, perfect for cultivating one's body and mind."
Yu Wenqiu stood in the doorway of the guest room, her eyes peeping into the room with a faintly unnatural air:
"How is it? Is it… is it all right?"
Gu Chengming set down his luggage, looked around once, and smiled:
"Quiet within the bustle, antique and refined — just as the Elder said, it's a good place."
Hearing this, the heart Yu Wenqiu had had hanging in her throat finally dropped back down into her belly.
After the attendant had brought hot water and tea snacks, Yu Wenqiu did not rush back to her own room.
Instead, she followed Gu Chengming into his room — once again ready to put on the airs of "one who's been through it all" and pass along a bit more of her experience.
"Tomorrow, when you go to report to the Night-Watch Bureau, there's one thing you must keep in mind."
"Please speak, Elder." Gu Chengming was sorting through his luggage; upon hearing this, he stopped.
"That cultivation method of yours, the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method…"
Yu Wenqiu's eyes flickered, her tone taking on a subtle quality:
"Once you arrive at the Bureau, if you happen to meet the Director — that is, the Grand Commander of the Night-Watch Bureau — you may, intentionally or otherwise, let her catch a glimpse of it."
"The Director?"
Gu Chengming was somewhat puzzled.
He remembered Vice-Commander Liu mentioning that the Director of the Night-Watch Bureau was an extremely mysterious figure, perpetually in closed-door cultivation or entering the palace for audiences with the Emperor, and very rarely making an appearance.
"Why?" Gu Chengming asked. "Could it be that this Director has some connection to this heart method?"
"Ahem… you could say that."
Yu Wenqiu was deliberately vague, as though she didn't want to invoke that figure's name. She only said, in earnest tones:
"In any case, just listen to me, and you won't go wrong. That Director… mm, has a rather odd temperament, but if she learns you cultivate this heart method, she might just look upon you with new regard, perhaps even take a liking to you. That will be of great benefit to your standing within the Night-Watch Bureau."
Watching Elder Yu's secretive, lips-sealed manner, Gu Chengming felt a measure of confusion in his heart — but he also knew there was no point in pressing further.
"This disciple will keep it in mind."
"Good. Now turn in early — you still have proper business to attend to at first light tomorrow."
Yu Wenqiu waved her hand, yawned, and walked out of the room.
With that, not waiting for Gu Chengming to ask any follow-up, she yawned her way back to her own room next door, leaving behind only a parting line of "Don't sleep in tomorrow morning," before closing the door behind her.
Gu Chengming looked at the tightly shut door and shook his head.
The night deepened, and through the window came the watch-drum sounds peculiar to the Capital.
Gu Chengming closed the doors and windows but did not rush to rest. He sat cross-legged on the bed, regulated his breathing, and began to circulate the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method.
Strictly speaking, this was the Capital of the Great Qian — tens of thousands of li from the Wenjian Sect, with the dragon energy holding sway over it all. By rights, the Myriad Wonders Assembly, founded as it was upon the resonance of divine souls, should not have been reachable from here.
But he gave it a try out of habit anyway.
His divine sense sank down into his sea of consciousness, and the familiar grey-mist space was not, as he had expected, dead and silent.
On the contrary — as the cultivation method turned, point after point of faint but tenacious starlight actually pierced through the layered barriers of space and dragon energy and stubbornly lit up within his sea of consciousness.
And then — that familiar interface really did surface.
[Myriad Wonders Assembly]
Gu Chengming was stunned.
One must understand: the dragon energy of the Great Qian was notoriously overbearing, a barrier that could cut off any external probing by divine sense. Even a fourth-realm great cultivator's voice-transmission talisman, sent from this distance, would be worth less than scrap paper.
Just as he stood there in surprise and confusion, a line of faint text surfaced upon the interface — an explanation from the cultivation method itself.
[The Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method is rather pleased with itself.]
[It explains: This is actually the effect of "all streams returning to the source." Not just anyone can connect to this place — only you can. Because you are the master of the Myriad Wonders Assembly, no matter how far away or what barrier stands in the way, you alone can maintain this faint connection…]
Gu Chengming understood.
He flipped through the posts. Most were things like "Looking to buy second-tier spirit herbs, price is negotiable…" or "Has anyone noticed that several elders have all gone into closed-door cultivation at once?"
Reading these familiar words, the sense of unfamiliarity that came with being in a strange land was dispelled all at once.
His heart somewhat eased, Gu Chengming exited the Myriad Wonders Assembly, lay down still dressed, and sank into a deep sleep.
The next day.
The sky was just barely lightening, the morning bell of the Capital had only just rung.
Gu Chengming woke from his dreams to find his head dull and heavy, as though someone had poured a jar of cheap rotgut down his throat the night before. His temples throbbed in protest.
"What's going on…"
Pressing his forehead, he sat up.
With his cultivation now at the perfected ninth layer of the first realm, combined with his nine points of constitution, he should long since have been impervious to cold and heat. How could he suddenly be exhibiting symptoms like wind-chill invading the body?
Could it be unfamiliarity with the local climate? Or was the dragon energy in the Capital too oppressive, leaving his divine soul somewhat ill-adapted?
Before he could think it through further, there came a knock at the door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The sound was somewhat muffled, not as crisp as on previous days.
"Young Gu, are you up? Time to go."
Yu Wenqiu's voice came from outside the door.
Gu Chengming forced down the dizziness, climbed out of bed, and opened the door.
Outside, Yu Wenqiu had changed into an extremely formal black official's robe, with a black silk gauze hat on her head and a jade belt at her waist. She looked unusually… solemn?
"Tidy yourself up. You're coming with me to the Yamen Bureau to report in."
Gu Chengming frowned slightly, a strange feeling rising in his heart.
"Yamen Bureau?"
He distinctly remembered that yesterday Vice-Commander Liu had said they were to go to the "Night-Watch Bureau" — so why, today, had Elder Yu's words turned it into the "Yamen Bureau"?
What kind of department was this "Yamen Bureau"? Did the Great Qian even have such an institution?
"Elder, weren't we going to the Night-Watch Bureau?" Gu Chengming asked tentatively.
Yu Wenqiu did not answer. She merely turned and walked toward the stairs, her voice floating back to him:
"You'll know when we get to the Yamen Bureau. Quickly now — don't be late. That's a capital crime."
Gu Chengming watched her retreating back, and that sense of wrongness grew stronger and stronger.
He wanted to press further, but the muddled feeling in his head suddenly intensified, leaving him unable to focus enough to think the question through.
"Hsss…"
Gu Chengming sucked in a sharp breath, gave his head a shake. The drilling pain forced him to set the doubts aside for the moment.
Perhaps… they just called it something different here?
Suppressing his discomfort, he hastily tidied his robes and hat, and followed after her.
Stepping out of the Rain-Listening Pavilion, he found the street outside cloaked in a thick layer of white fog.
Although it was morning, there were no pedestrians on the street — only the occasional carriage rumbling past, its wheels grinding over the bluestone with a dull, leaden sound.
The two of them walked one behind the other, threading through the mist.
After walking for who-knew-how-long, a grand yet uncannily sinister government compound appeared at the end of their line of sight.
The gates of the compound were black as ink. On either side, instead of stone lions, stood two ferocious-looking statues of ghost-deities clutching prisoner-rods.
Above the gate hung a plaque, upon which were inscribed two warped characters: [Yamen Bureau].
This place… no matter how one looked at it, it did not resemble a proper government office, but rather the Hall of Yama from the Yellow Springs of the underworld.
"We're here."
Yu Wenqiu stopped and turned around: "Once inside, remember above all to obey the rules. The rules of the Yamen Bureau are greater than the heavens."
With that, not waiting for Gu Chengming's response, she stepped forward toward the gate.
Gu Chengming was about to follow when he saw Yu Wenqiu come to a halt before the threshold.
She took a deep breath, then with the utmost gravity raised her left foot, holding it suspended in mid-air for a full three breaths, before stepping over with the greatest of care, landing without a sound.
Then came the right foot.
Gu Chengming was utterly at a loss. He was just about to step across when two ashen-clad, deathly-pale runners at the gate blocked him with their prisoner-rods.
"How dare you!"
One of the runners shouted sharply, his voice piercing and shrill:
"A newcomer? Don't you know the rules?"
"Today is an even-numbered day! To pass through the gate, one must lead with the right foot! If you lead with the left, that is disrespect to the Lord Director — and merits thirty strokes of the rod!"
Gu Chengming was stunned.
He glanced at Yu Wenqiu, who had already passed through, and pointed at her back: "But Elder Yu just now distinctly led with her left foot…"
"The Lord is the Lord, and you are you!"
The runner glared, the whites of his eyes far more than the black, exuding an air of death:
"The Lord holds the body of a fourth-rank official — she has her own manner of walking. You, a commoner without rank, dare to compare yourself with a Lord? Right foot first! And the tip of your foot must point outward by three inches, never directly at the door-god!"
A surge of suffocating frustration rose in Gu Chengming's chest.
What in the dog's name was this rule?
Forcing down his discomfort, he followed the runner's instructions and awkwardly stepped through with his right foot.
The moment he set foot inside, before he could even steady himself, two more clerks approached with a copper basin and a measuring rod.
"Halt!"
The clerk took up the rod and began comparing measurements all over Gu Chengming's person, his brow knotted, his face full of disgust:
"Your clothing is wrong! This is sheer treason!"
"The collar — how can there be only two folds in the pleat? By Yamen Bureau statute, the collar of a new appointee must be folded into three pleats, symbolizing 'thrice daily I examine myself.' You have one less — that is insufficient sincerity of heart! You deserve punishment!"
"And this belt — it's tied too high! It looks frivolous! Lower it by two inches!"
"Your cuffs are too wide — suspicious of harboring filth! They must be bound up!"
The two of them muttered as they pulled and tugged at Gu Chengming's robes, raising goose bumps all over him.
"So these are… the rules of the Great Qian?"
The sense of absurdity in Gu Chengming's heart grew ever stronger.
He recalled Yu Wenqiu's earlier grumblings on the flying boat — "which foot to step in with first," "how to wear your clothes," "how to speak."
At the time, he had thought Elder Yu was exaggerating. Now it seemed: this was not exaggeration in the slightest — if anything, the reality outdid her account.
"These rules… aren't they a bit too convoluted?"
Gu Chengming could not help but voice a retort.
"Convoluted?"
The clerk looked as if he had heard the joke of the heavens. He froze in his work, and that pallid face thrust itself up close to Gu Chengming's, the corners of his mouth splitting into an exaggerated arc:
"Rules are rules! Without rules, how can there be order? Since you have come to the Yamen Bureau, you are a dog of the Yamen Bureau — you do as you are told, and you don't have so much nonsense to spew!"
"Lower your head! Who gave you permission to look directly at a superior? Eyes downward! You may look only at the third bluestone on the ground!"
Gu Chengming's fist hardened.
However, just as he was about to erupt, that familiar semi-transparent dialog box suddenly popped up in the lower part of his vision.
It was the reaction of the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method.
Gu Chengming had thought that the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method — that orthodox Confucian classic, the one most devoted to "ritual propriety" and "rules" — would, faced with such a scene, be in its element, perhaps even sing the place's praises.
After all, was this not precisely what it advocated — "observing rules and conventions," "hierarchy of high and low"?
But to his surprise, the words within that dialog box now carried an unprecedented level of fury.
[The Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method is scowling, watching these petty clerks wielding chicken feathers as if they were imperial decrees. A strong revulsion rises in its heart.]
[It declares: "Ritual" is "principle." It is the order of Heaven and Earth — the foundation that gives peace to the human heart and clarity to the way of the world.]
[But what is this?]
[Which foot to lead with through the door? How many folds in the collar? What manner of "ritual" is this? This is plainly nothing but tormenting people!]
[Such bloated, bureaucratic nonsense is the greatest insult to the word "ritual" itself!]
[And most importantly…]
[It thinks: if these rules were applied to other people, fine — let it be.]
[But these scrabbling little curs, these inflexible vermin — what right do they have to apply these rules to you?!]
[The audacity!]
Gu Chengming saw these lines, and felt a flicker of surprise.
Although he had long known that the Zhouli, while claiming to uphold ritual, actually had double standards, this kind of fiercely partisan reaction was nevertheless something he hadn't quite expected.
— Yesterday you were still saying these were good rules.
But with the Zhouli's backing now offered up like a battle cry, the suffocating frustration in Gu Chengming's chest dissipated quite a bit.
He drew a deep breath, ignored the two clerks' chittering, and with a single cold flick of his sleeve, threw off their hands and strode toward the inner hall.
"Hey! How can you just—"
The clerk wanted to block him, but the aura that suddenly burst forth from Gu Chengming's person left him cowed. He opened his mouth, but did not dare step forward again.
Passing through long corridors and crossing checkpoint after checkpoint…
All along the way, Gu Chengming witnessed every manner of absurd, unbelievable rule.
One person, for taking a step that was a half-inch too wide, was punished by being made to kneel on flagstones and slap his own cheeks. Another, for speaking a touch too loudly, had his lips sewn shut with needle and thread. Yet another, simply for failing to drop to his knees fast enough as that "Lord" passed by, had his legs broken outright.
The entire Yamen Bureau was suffused with the air of death.
At last, Gu Chengming arrived at the inner hall.
Here it was even more sinister than outside. The light was dim, and along both sides, on grand armchairs, sat figures clad in official robes of every variety — each with head bowed low, faces invisible.
At the very top, on a raised dais, sat a Director — his figure bloated, his official garb extraordinarily ornate.
He was sunken into a wide chair, his face veiled by a faint layer of black mist, only a pair of green-glowing eyes fixed unwaveringly upon Gu Chengming as he entered.
Yu Wenqiu was at this moment standing below the dais, head lowered, not making a sound — as though she had become some soulless ornament.
"You — you are the new arrival?"
The Director spoke, his voice like two rusted iron plates grinding together — grating, painful to hear.
Gu Chengming forced down the ever-increasing dizziness in his head and did not kneel. He merely cupped his hands slightly:
"Wenjian Sect disciple Gu Chengming, reporting in."
"Insolence!"
The Director slammed his gavel down with a crash.
"Crack!"
This thunderous sound seemed to strike directly upon Gu Chengming's heart, sending a wave of blood and qi surging in his chest.
"You have seen this official — why do you not kneel?!"
The Director bellowed sharply: "So what if you're from the Wenjian Sect? In this Yamen Bureau, even a dragon must coil and even a tiger must crouch!"
"By Yamen Bureau statute, a newcomer entering the hall must perform the great ceremony of three kneelings and nine kowtows, must announce his own family name, must recount three generations of his lineage — and if there is even a single character of error, that is the crime of deceiving the throne!"
"And — your hair! Why has it not been shaven? To leave long hair such as this is disrespect!"
"Your sword — why do you still wear it on your person? Do you mean to assassinate this official? Men! Strip that sword from him!"
As the Director roared, the officials lining the sides of the hall suddenly came to life.
All at once, they lifted their heads in unison, revealing pale, stiff faces utterly devoid of expression.
Those were not the faces of living people. They were… faces that had been painted on.
They stared dead-eyed at Gu Chengming, their mouths opening and closing, letting out a low, sleepwalker's murmur:
"Kneel…"
"Kneel…"
"Kneel…"
The voices grew louder, denser, until at last they merged into a single suffocating wave of sound, echoing throughout the great hall.
"Kneel! Kneel! Kneel!"
Gu Chengming felt as if his head were about to split open.
"So this is… the officialdom of the Great Qian…"
And just as he could endure no longer and was on the verge of drawing his sword to lash out —
[The Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method flies into a towering rage!]
[It gazes upon this gathering of demons and ghouls before it, upon this so-called court of justice now choked with the foulest of vapors, upon that bloated monstrosity attempting to force you to your knees — and the fire of fury in its heart erupts forth like a volcano!]
[The audacity! The sheer, monstrous audacity!]
[It is the foundation of the sages' teaching, the Righteous Noble Breath of Heaven and Earth! The ritual it upholds is the principle that teaches a person shame and integrity, that illuminates great righteousness — the principle that teaches a person to stand upright as a human being!]
[And these creatures of darkness, these specters and goblins, dare to wrap themselves in the skin of officials, to raise the banner of "rules," and conduct this filthy business!]
[What manner of man are you? You are a true gentleman who bears the Righteous Noble Breath, who carries rivers and mountains within your heart! Have a true gentleman kneel before this swarm of scrabbling little curs?]
[Chengming! Smash this whole farce! We will not take this insult!]
[A true gentleman has things he must do and things he must never do! Faced with a foul place such as this, the only course is to sweep it clean — only then does the Righteous Noble Breath show its true colors!]
[Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method — trait activated: Righteous Noble Breath! Shatter the Illusion!]
"Boom——!"
As these lines of text surfaced, a strand of utterly pure, utterly overbearing Righteous Noble Breath surged up from Gu Chengming's dantian, instantly scattering the haze and fog within his mind.
He jerked his head up, his gaze, in that instant, becoming crystal clear — this was the Piercing Insight granted by the Zhouli.
And the world before his eyes underwent an earth-shaking transformation.
Where was the Yamen Bureau? Where were the officials?
This was, plain and clear, a dilapidated, ruined wayside shrine!
The "officials" who had, just moments before, been forcing him to kneel — under the illumination of the Righteous Noble Breath, they were revealed in their true forms.
They were paper effigies — paper-pasted figures painted with crude features!
Their bodies were shriveled, their joints twisted, and at this moment they were gaping their painted black holes of mouths and emitting "hissing" inhuman cries.
So that was how it was…
Gu Chengming surveyed this absurd and terrifying scene.
Slowly, he drew the Wave-Listening Sword at his waist. Upon the blade, a deep blue radiance intertwined with that Righteous Noble Breath, releasing a heart-pounding hum.
"You want me to kneel?"
Gu Chengming took a single step forward — and this step was no longer bound by any nonsense about which foot left or right.
"You aren't worthy?!"
The Wave-Listening Sword flashed from its sheath like a thunderclap from clear ground, bursting forth in this dim hall of judgment.
"Zheng——!"
The cry of a dragon, pure and high; the call of a crane, piercing the clouds. With that single ring of the sword, the wretched, ghastly "kneel" of the hall's demons was crushed into powder.
Gu Chengming took his step forward, and the rotting bluestone beneath his feet split inch by inch. A torrent of utterly irresistible Righteous Noble Breath rose from his spine, surging up to pierce the Dipper and the Ox stars themselves.
This was the wrath wrought by the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method — the indignation in the breast of every scholar, churning and impossible to suppress.
Rites and music had collapsed; the demons had usurped the seats of power.
Gu Chengming's wrist turned. The cold blue glow upon his blade swelled three feet. No elaborate sword technique was needed — only the simplest, broadest, fullest of vertical strikes.
This stroke was named "Rectification of Names."
It was for the rectification of this overturned heaven-and-earth, and for the rectification of this defiled vision and hearing.
The sword-light streamed like white silk, slicing across the void — bright and resplendent as the sun blazing in the heavens.
On the raised dais, that "Director" — built up out of countless grudges and rotting flesh — seemed too to sense the heavenly power borne by this strike. Its enormous maw gaped wide, drool spilling out, and it emitted a non-human shriek. In an instant, countless pitch-black tentacles erupted madly from beneath its wide official robes, seeking to ward off this killing blow.
Yet — the corrupt cannot overcome the upright, the filthy cannot resist the pure.
Before that sword-intent enwrapped in Righteous Noble Breath, the sky-filling tentacles were like snow doused in boiling broth — they never even touched the blade before they melted away, dispersing into wisps of black smoke.
"Puchi!"
No obstruction, no suspense.
The Wave-Listening Sword sliced as if cutting through rotting bamboo, tracing from top to bottom a flawless, beautiful arc.
That enormous, hideous head, together with the black gauze cap atop it that had symbolized its false authority, shot skyward all at once.
Black blood spurted forth like thick ink splashed wide.
"Ahhh——!!!"
With one final, blood-curdling shriek, the massive body of the "Director" crashed to the ground in ruin.
And then — there came a brittle, glassy shattering sound.
"Crack, crack…"
The once dreadful, sinister hall now revealed countless fine cracks. The hideous-faced paper-pasted runners, the rotted blackened pillars and beams, and even the suffocating, stagnant air itself — under the residual force of that single sword stroke — all flaked away inch by inch, crumbling into dust.
Light streamed in.
Gu Chengming's vision blurred. The whole of those grotesque, bizarre sights before him receded all at once like an outgoing tide.
The nauseating shrieking in his ears was gone, replaced by a clear chorus of birdsong, and the faintly noisy cries of vendors hawking their wares from outside the window.
He snapped his eyes open.
What met his gaze — where was the stern, foreboding hall of the Yamen Bureau?
He was still sitting cross-legged in that somewhat aged but clean guest room of the Rain-Listening Pavilion.
Morning light streamed through the half-open lattice window, scattering across the slightly mottled floorboards, motes of dust dancing within the beams.
And there, less than three feet in front of him —
An oil lamp that ought long since to have gone out had a wick burning a strange, eerie pale green, releasing one last wisp of pale smoke. And beside that lamp, there sat a small… paper-pasted figurine, already cleaved in two halves.
The figurine wore a comical official's robe, its head having rolled to one side, the cut at its neck smooth as a mirror — clearly severed by sword-qi.
[The Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method, seeing that you are unharmed, lets out a long breath of relief.]
[After much pondering, it sets about giving you cover: He who usurps the high hall, called "official," is in truth a thief; the laws he speaks, called "law," are in truth poison.]
[Chengming's action here was not the breaking of law — it was the setting right of what had been overturned!]
[Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method affection increased!]
[Affection +10]
[Affection status changed: from [Stranger] raised to [Friendly]]
[Current affection: 38 / Friendly]
[Fixed attribute point gained: Spirit +3]
Damn — I'll grant you can really spin an elaborate justification.
At that very moment —
"Bang——!"
The flimsy wooden door of the inn — already none too sturdy — was kicked open from outside with such force that it gave a groan of protest.
Looking up, Gu Chengming saw Yu Wenqiu — her face full of panic, spiritual power surging around her, fingertips already pinching a sword-talisman primed to be unleashed. She was clearly braced to strike at a moment's notice.
"Young Gu! Are you all r—"
Her words cut off abruptly mid-sentence.
The room did not contain the scene of demonic possession she had been imagining.
Gu Chengming stood by the window, his long sword already sheathed — though the bitterly cold Righteous Noble sword-intent had yet to fully disperse.
And by his feet, that eerie oil lamp had been extinguished, while that headless paper-pasted figurine lay quietly in the morning light, giving off a stench of charred burning.
"Whew…"
Seeing this scene, Yu Wenqiu's heart, which had leapt to her throat, finally dropped heavily back into her belly.
PS: Just a note: the tone of this novel is fairly light, so eighty percent of the characters who show up are good people.
Yesterday it seemed Elder Yu's words spooked some of you, so a special note — the Great Qian doesn't actually have all that many rules. They were all in Elder Yu's head.
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