Before Feng Ya could even come back to her senses, Gu Chengming's fist had already arrived.
"WHAM!"
A teeth-grating, muffled thud.
Feng Ya felt the world before her flip in an instant. From the bridge of her nose came a sensation of shattering—a stinging sourness and searing pain exploding at once—and tears welled up uncontrollably.
She instinctively tried to mobilize the spiritual energy within her body to fight back. But the very instant her spiritual energy began to rise, an extraordinarily viscous force, riding the momentum of Gu Chengming's punch, bored straight into her meridians.
[Sword Intent / Clinging Formula]
Feng Ya discovered that her second-realm spiritual energy—which she normally commanded as easily as her own arm—was now circulating at an infuriatingly sluggish speed. Before she could even react to this sudden change, Gu Chengming's second fist, his third fist, had already arrived in succession.
"WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!"
No tender mercy for a delicate flower—only the purest of violence.
[Flowing Cloud Moon-Following watched Feng Ya's contorted, distorted face, and felt the pent-up frustration that had long been bottled up in its heart dissipate over half in an instant.]
[In its eyes, a sword cultivator who relied solely on bullying others with her sect's name was dirty even to look at twice. To see her humiliated like this now—truly satisfying to the heart!]
[Well struck!]
[Flowing Cloud Moon-Following favorability +5]
[Current favorability: 60 / Liked]
[Favorability rank up: from [Friendly] to [Liked]]
[Fixed attribute points: Strength +4]
[Current Strength attribute: 16]
Only a few breaths had passed.
Gu Chengming withdrew his hand and straightened up.
Feng Ya, by this point, had long since been knocked completely unconscious.
Gu Chengming grabbed Feng Ya by the back of her collar with one hand, as though hoisting a bag of garbage, strode over to the railing of the elegant pavilion-seat, and with a flick of his wrist tossed her casually away.
"Whoosh—"
A figure traced a wretched arc through the air, slammed heavily into the grass outside the banquet hall, and made a muffled thud upon landing.
Having done all this, Gu Chengming clapped the nonexistent dust from his hands, turned, and walked back to the table.
Within the vast rear garden, the several hundred Night-Patrol Guards who had been toasting and drinking all turned their attention this way at this moment.
Granted, when these rough men of the Night-Watch Bureau had drunk too much, the occasional table would break into a quarrel, and they might shove one another a couple of times on liquid courage, or even come to blows—all of which counted as part of the festive entertainment.
But to act on a single disagreement like Gu Chengming had—and an act of utterly one-sided, crushing, beat-her-to-death-in-the-face violence at that—they had truly never seen the likes of it.
Most critically of all, the one being beaten was an inner-gate female disciple of the Yunyue Sect!
Song Qing's chopsticks had at some point fallen, unnoticed, to the ground.
Looking at Gu Chengming's air of light, unruffled calm, he felt his throat go dry—he couldn't get half a syllable out.
An Shan and Li Dujiang likewise had never imagined that this seemingly mild-mannered colleague would suddenly explode like that.
After that brief silence—
A series of heavy, hurried footsteps, accompanied by the clanging clatter of armor, came from outside the garden.
"Who dares to clamor and brawl privately here?!"
An imposing, furious shout came rolling in.
Right on its heels, a middle-aged man clad in dark-gold heavy armor with a long saber hanging at his waist strode in with great, sweeping steps.
His features were squarely cut, awe-inspiring even without anger, and his whole body emanated a suffocating fourth-realm spirit pressure. This was none other than another wielder of real power within the Night-Watch Bureau—Vice-Commander Wang.
This Vice-Commander Wang had risen from the ranks of the military. He was the most rigid and severe of men, holding strictly to the principle that military orders were as immovable as mountains.
Within the Night-Watch Bureau, aside from Director Zhou herself, he was the hardest to talk around, and the most allergic to anyone breaking the rules. He had just been on patrol in the front hall when he'd heard the great commotion from the rear garden. A sweep of his divine sense had revealed someone being thrown out by force—and he had come storming over in a great rage.
Vice-Commander Wang strode up to the table of the "Tianshu" squad. His gaze was like a blade. First he swept a glance at the still-unconscious Feng Ya outside the entrance, then locked his eyes dead onto Gu Chengming.
"Was it you who struck?"
Vice-Commander Wang's voice was low, carrying the oppressive weight of an interrogation.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze in that instant. Song Qing and the others were frightened to the point of not daring even to draw a deep breath, terrified of being splashed by the rebound.
Gu Chengming, however, was utterly composed. He set down his wine cup, rose, straightened his robes and crown, then performed a bow—neither obsequious nor arrogant:
"Reporting to Commander Wang—it was indeed this subordinate."
Vice-Commander Wang gave a cold snort, his eyes surging with killing aura:
"Today is the welcoming banquet. As a Night-Patrol Guard, you dared to beat down a colleague in full view of everyone? Are the rules of the Night-Watch Bureau still in your eyes at all?"
Faced with this great hat of accusation being clapped down on him, Gu Chengming did not panic.
"This subordinate struck precisely in order to uphold the rules of the Night-Watch Bureau, and precisely in order to defend the laws of the Great Qian."
"Oh?" Vice-Commander Wang was so angered he laughed instead: "Beating a person and calling it 'upholding the rules'? Then lay out the reasoning for me, one, two, three. If you're just twisting words to evade the issue, today you will not get off lightly!"
Gu Chengming's expression turned solemn. He spoke out clearly:
"Feng Ya, as a Night-Patrol Guard, was invited to this banquet—yet she arrived more than half a watch late. Upon taking her seat, she did so without announcement, showing no respect for her fellow comrades. This is impropriety. The Night-Watch Bureau values that orders be carried out and prohibitions observed; she treated her superiors as if they were not even there. This is indiscipline."
"To execute without first teaching is called cruelty; to teach without effective instruction is called villainy. Only by acting could the matter be set straight and the law made plain!"
Vice-Commander Wang listened in dumbstruck silence. He had originally thought this was just some hot-headed greenhorn running wild—who could have guessed that this line of reasoning would so perfectly suit his appetite?
He himself was a man who valued rules to the extreme, and what he could least stand was precisely the sort of insubordinate troublemakers who, riding on the prestige of their sects, lorded it about within the Bureau.
Feng Ya's airs and conduct he had, in fact, long heard about, and he had been thoroughly displeased with them in his heart.
Gu Chengming's words now, though they were a self-defense, had also genuinely struck Vice-Commander Wang's sweet spot.
"This lad… is rather interesting."
The fury in Vice-Commander Wang's heart had dispersed by more than half. In the gaze he turned on Gu Chengming, there was now even a faint, scarcely perceptible hint of appreciation.
A man who understood the rules—and a man with backbone to boot.
However…
Appreciation was one thing; rules, after all, were rules.
"Be that as it may, private brawling is still inappropriate."
Vice-Commander Wang pondered for a moment, then said with a stern face:
"Even if she was at fault first, you should have reported it to the Hall of Punishment and Law and let the Bureau handle it—not privately resorted to your own justice. If everyone acted as you did, would not this Night-Watch Bureau fall into utter chaos?"
Privately, he was calculating: although Gu Chengming had the right of the matter, his methods truly were a touch excessive.
If word reached Director Zhou herself, she might well find the lad's conduct too reckless and lacking in propriety.
Both to protect this boy and to preserve the Bureau's face, better to first dispense some light punishment and put the affair to rest.
"In consideration of this being your first offense, and that there was a reason for the matter…"
Vice-Commander Wang was just about to pronounce some minor punishment—three cups of penalty wine, or perhaps a two-day grounding.
Just then.
"What's going on here?"
A voice came from the back of the crowd.
Vice-Commander Liu was squeezing his way through. He had just been drinking happily at the next table over when his subordinates told him Gu Chengming over here had run into trouble—and he had come charging over in great haste.
This was a promising stock he had personally taken a fancy to. If the boy got dealt with by Wang Blackface on his very first day on the job, where would that leave his own Vice-Commander's face?
Vice-Commander Liu quickly stepped forward, threw himself between Gu Chengming and Vice-Commander Wang, and cupped his hands with an apologetic grin:
"A misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding! Young people, you know—a bit of hot temper is only natural. Besides, you know full well what sort of conduct that Yunyue Sect girl has shown around the place. Chengming here was helping us put things in order!"
Vice-Commander Wang looked at Vice-Commander Liu in his shielding-his-cub mode, and felt both exasperated and amused.
He hadn't actually been planning to dig into the matter. What was Old Liu running in here to make a scene for?
As though he were some heinous, ten-evils tyrant of a cruel official.
"All right, all right. Don't put on a show for me here."
Vice-Commander Wang waved his hand in exasperation:
"I never said I was going to do anything to him. Since you've come, then this mess is yours to clean up."
With that, he glanced at Gu Chengming, gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, then turned and ordered the personal guards behind him:
"Go—the one outside the gate… carry her back, find a medical officer to take a look."
"Sir!"
With Vice-Commander Wang's departure, this storm had for the moment been quelled.
At the same time.
Deep within the Night-Watch Bureau, the place where Director Zhou customarily worked and cultivated.
A meditation room, of the simplest furnishings.
Upon a massive desk of yellow pear-wood were piled mountain-tall stacks of files and jade slips. On the surrounding walls hung maps of the Great Qian, marked densely with the locations of demonic disturbances and uncanny cases across the land. The crimson vermilion annotations were enough to stop the heart.
Seated before the desk was a figure that looked somewhat weary—a face bearing no rouge or powder, yet still of pristine, peerless beauty.
The Director of the Great Qian's Night-Watch Bureau, Zhou Qingmu.
She had just finished processing a batch of urgent military reports from the northern frontier.
Demonic tide stirrings, the borders sounding alarms, plus the covert jockeying of several factions within the Capital—she had not closed her eyes for several months running.
She had originally planned to make an appearance at today's welcoming banquet. But this sudden military intelligence had forced her to postpone her itinerary.
"Director."
A middle-aged councilor in a gray robe, gaunt of feature, appeared silently in the doorway, holding in his hands a brief that had only just been delivered:
"Over at the welcoming banquet, there's been a small incident."
Zhou Qingmu rubbed at her brow: "If someone got drunk and made trouble, just handle it according to the law. There's no need to report it to me."
"It's not entirely a matter of making trouble…"
The councilor hesitated, then reported truthfully:
"The newly-joined Wenjian Sect disciple Gu Chengming had a clash with the Yunyue Sect's Feng Ya."
"Gu Chengming knocked Feng Ya unconscious in front of everyone, and tossed her out of the banquet."
The vermilion brush in Zhou Qingmu's hand paused slightly. Her brow furrowed.
A private brawl?
At such an occasion?
Was this Wenjian Sect disciple, perhaps, just another arrogant fool who didn't know how high the sky was, riding on the strength of his background?
A flicker of displeasure crossed her eyes. She was on the verge of opening her mouth to issue a rebuke.
But then the councilor continued:
"However… afterwards, when Vice-Commander Wang went to question him, this Gu Chengming offered a piece of self-defense that was rather interesting."
"Oh?"
"He said…" The councilor cleared his throat, and recited Gu Chengming's discourse on etiquette, hierarchy, and upholding the law, word for word.
As the councilor spoke, Zhou Qingmu's tightly knit brows actually relaxed, little by little.
When she heard the line about "the undisciplined, disrespectful, and unmannered breaking the rules of the Night-Watch Bureau," the vermilion brush in her hand came lightly down, leaving a single bright-red dot of ink on the page.
"Good."
Zhou Qingmu uttered the single word softly. The corners of her mouth turned upward ever so slightly, forming an extremely faint—yet extremely satisfied—curve.
"That Feng Ya… is she of the Yunyue Sect?" she asked.
"Indeed she is." The councilor nodded.
"Excellent."
Zhou Qingmu inclined her head slightly. A flash of approval crossed her eyes:
"This disciple named Gu Chengming understands ritual and law quite well, and has courage and judgment—knows when to advance and when to withdraw. He is moldable material."
That Yunyue Sect bunch had always looked down their noses at everyone, fancying themselves lofty and pure when in reality their discipline was lax. They were the ones she most despised.
Day in, day out, leaning on the strength of their sect, they had caused her no end of trouble in the Capital.
"That Yunyue Sect disciple breaking the rules and disrespecting ritual—well, let that be."
"The crux is…"
Her fingers tapped lightly on the desktop. She said slowly:
"On what grounds does a female cultivator get to sit at the table?"
"…"
The councilor standing in the doorway, upon hearing this last sentence, ventured a reminder: "Um, Director, my lady…"
"Forgive this subordinate's prattling, but you yourself are also a female cultivator."
The air seemed to freeze for an instant.
Zhou Qingmu raised her head, then rose to her feet and gave a great sweep of her sleeves:
"Before being a female cultivator, I am first and foremost the Supreme Standing Administrative Commissioner of the Great Qian, the Commander-General of the Mystic-Armor Patrols of the Capital Region and the Various Circuits. I hold charge of the prisons, the criminal cases, and the affairs of the Netherworld for the Capital Region—the Chief Commander of the Night-Watch Bureau!"
Having finished reciting her titles, she added, with the air of someone whose iron refuses to become steel:
"In the officialdom of the Great Qian, we do not speak of gender. Understand?"
The councilor seemed to have long known Zhou Qingmu's particular character, and was not at all surprised by this speech. He could only helplessly cup his hands and assent.
With Feng Ya hauled away, the disturbance—under the framing set by Vice-Commander Wang Daoling—was at last reduced to a mere interlude during the banquet.
For this crowd of Night-Patrol Guards of the Night-Watch Bureau, strength was the only hard truth.
Gu Chengming's display not only failed to get him ostracized—it instead truly integrated him into this circle that recognized nothing but power.
Amid the toasting and clinking of cups, no one dared, on account of his ninth-layer first-realm cultivation, to harbor the slightest hint of disdain for him. The other members of the "Tianshu" squad benefited along with him, receiving no small number of toasts themselves.
Three rounds of wine in, the moon had climbed to its zenith.
Just as the atmosphere of the banquet reached its most fervent peak, with everyone drinking until their faces were red—a wave of pressure, without the slightest warning, descended over the entire rear garden.
The previously raucous sounds of finger-guessing games and laughter cut off in that instant. Everyone instinctively set down their wine cups, rose in a single uniform motion, lowered their heads and stood at attention. Their movements were so practiced it was almost pitiful to see.
At the garden gate, a figure clad in purple-gold official robes came slowly forward, treading on the moonlight.
She did not walk fast. Each step seemed precisely measured.
With her arrival, the previously somewhat overheated wine-laden air was instantly scattered by a clear, austere atmosphere.
Director Zhou of the Night-Watch Bureau—Zhou Qingmu—had finally arrived.
She did not take the seat of honor; instead, she stood at the steps, her gaze sweeping calmly across the entire venue.
"My esteemed colleagues."
Zhou Qingmu spoke. Her voice was not loud, but it carried clearly into each person's ear:
"The territory of the Great Qian stretches ten thousand li. Demons and devils ring us round; wicked spirits stir in the shadows. That the common folk can sleep in peace, that the realm can stand stable—all of it depends on all of you, who day and night cut through thorns and brambles."
"Tonight's banquet is both a welcome and a send-off. Whether you come from a sect or from the ranks of the military—once you've entered the gates of this Night-Watch Bureau, we are family. There is only this one identity: Night-Watchman of the Great Qian."
"May the blades and swords in your hands ever be keen. Drink this cup to the brim."
No droning officialese, no ethereal empty promises.
Just these few short sentences—but they made the eyes of more than a few veteran Night-Patrol Guards present rim faintly red.
The assembly raised their cups as one, tipped their heads back, and drank to the bottom.
After that, Zhou Qingmu took her seat.
Those Vice-Commanders who on ordinary days carried themselves with awe-inspiring authority were now, each and every one, as meek as little boys in a village schoolmaster's classroom.
Vice-Commander Liu especially—from the moment Zhou Qingmu appeared, his eyes were fixed on his nose and his nose on his heart. He didn't dare so much as draw a deep breath, terrified that one wrong placement of his foot would see him hauled off again to "learn the rules."
Zhou Qingmu's expression, by contrast, was as usual. Now and then she asked a few questions about recent matters within the Bureau—her language concise, going straight to the heart.
Wang Daoling and the others rose to answer, all with the utmost reverence.
This meal, for its latter half, could only be described as deathly silent and supremely solemn.
When the remnants of the feast were about to be cleared away, and everyone was preparing to file out in proper order—
Zhou Qingmu, who had been seated upright at the seat of honor and seemingly forgotten the earlier interlude long ago, suddenly set down the teacup in her hand.
She tilted her head slightly. Her gaze cut across the crowd and came to rest directly on the table in the corner.
"Gu Chengming."
She called him in a light, even tone.
The call was not loud, but it made Gu Chengming—who had been preparing to leave with the rest of the crowd—pause in his steps.
The gazes from all around immediately converged, carrying envy and also a measure of concern.
In Vice-Commander Liu's heart there was an even more pronounced lurch. Oh no, he thought to himself—could it be that the Director was still going to call him to account for the earlier beating?
Gu Chengming's expression did not change. He straightened his robes and crown, walked out from among the crowd, came to a halt three zhang in front of Zhou Qingmu, bowed in salute—movements textbook-precise, without a single flaw to be picked at:
"This subordinate is here."
Zhou Qingmu did not speak right away.
She sat there, looking down from above, examining the young man before her.
That vast pressure belonging to one above all others surged toward Gu Chengming like a tide.
This was no deliberate attack, but a person of weak will, beneath such pressure, would by now already be weak at the knees, putting on an unsightly display.
Yet Gu Chengming stood in place, his bearing as upright as a pine, his expression as composed as still water. Even faintly, around his body, there circulated an aura of upright balance and impartial equanimity, dissolving away that oppressive official pressure silently and without trace.
Neither cringing, nor arrogant.
To hold to ritual and to right one's heart, as the saying goes—a flicker of surprise crossed Zhou Qingmu's eyes.
She straightened slightly, and the fingers that had been resting casually on the armrest tapped down lightly.
Zhou Qingmu spoke softly, her tone carrying both inquiry and a touch of surprise:
"What you cultivate is… the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method?"
The Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method.
This heart method had been created by her in her years studying at the Imperial Academy, born of her awareness of the order of heaven and earth and her bitter critique of the ills of her age.
Though she had been young then, she had already set her aim on using this method to put the universe in order, to right the human heart, to rectify the imperial court.
Sadly, the threshold of this heart method was exceedingly high, and its principles too rigidly upright. To those cultivators who lived by their own whims, it was, frankly, asking for self-inflicted suffering.
Thus, even after she later sent copies into the Scripture Pavilions of every major sect, almost no one ever inquired about it.
The occasional taker would, more often than not, give up halfway, unable to bear the dry, dull doctrine and the severe self-restraint it demanded.
"Good."
Zhou Qingmu tapped her finger on the armrest. She did not linger on the origin of the heart method; instead she pivoted, and once again raised the matter of the earlier incident:
"Since you cultivate this method, you must know the principle that a gentleman is cautious even when alone. So tell me—at the banquet table just now, why did you suddenly explode into violence?"
This seemed like a reproach, but it was in truth a test.
Gu Chengming's expression was composed; he showed not the slightest panic at the Director's questioning.
With clear logic he enumerated, one by one, the various ways Feng Ya had overstepped—pointing out her disrespect toward superiors, her indifference toward her colleagues. His words were ironclad, his reasoning tight.
Zhou Qingmu listened, inclining her head slightly. The satisfaction in her eyes grew thicker.
To know that "when names are not rectified, words do not follow," to know how to press others down with the great principle—this was indeed a fine seedling for cultivating the Zhouli.
However, just as Zhou Qingmu thought his defense had concluded—
Gu Chengming paused, raised his head, looked Zhou Qingmu directly in the eyes, and added one final line:
"More importantly: she is a female cultivator."
With these words, the Night-Patrol Guards all around who had their ears pricked up eavesdropping nearly had their eyeballs pop out.
Vice-Commander Liu even sucked in a sharp breath, sorely wishing he could rush forward and clap a hand over Gu Chengming's mouth.
Of course, this remark of Gu Chengming's was the product of careful deliberation, made after listening to his colleagues' descriptions of this Director Zhou's personality.
The moment he heard it, he realized: this Director Zhou had the same temperament as his own Zhouli—how could he not know exactly what she wanted to hear?
And sure enough, upon hearing this line, Zhou Qingmu, far from being angered, looked as if she had heard something supremely pleasing to her ear. Her brow relaxed, and she nodded in deep agreement.
"Ahem."
Finally, Zhou Qingmu gave another light cough, and decided to throw out a question well beyond the syllabus.
"What you say has great merit."
She leaned slightly forward, fixing her gaze on Gu Chengming. Her voice betrayed neither pleasure nor displeasure:
"But this Bench-Holder herself is also a female cultivator."
If Gu Chengming changed his tune, it would be flattery—proof that his Dao-heart was unsteady. If Gu Chengming stood his ground, it would be defiance—a slap across her face to her face.
The hearts of everyone present leapt up into their throats. Vice-Commander Liu even closed his eyes, unable to bear watching the tragedy that was about to unfold.
Yet, facing this over-the-syllabus, life-or-death question, Gu Chengming did not hesitate even for an instant.
His expression remained as usual. Even his eyes showed not the slightest ripple. He simply made another deep bow, his voice clear and crisp, every word a pearl:
"Before being a female cultivator—"
Gu Chengming raised his head, his gaze blazing, his voice booming like a bell:
"You are first and foremost the Supreme Standing Administrative Commissioner of the Great Qian, the Commander-General of the Mystic-Armor Patrols of the Capital Region and the Various Circuits, holding charge of the prisons, the criminal cases, and the affairs of the Netherworld for the Capital Region!"
"You are the one who guards the night of the Great Qian, who makes ten thousand demons quake—the Chief Commander of the Night-Watch Bureau!"
Every single title he recited with fluent, perfect memorization.
Zhou Qingmu opened her mouth, but the rebuke she had prepared—at this moment, not a single word would come out.
"Whew…"
After a long while, she let out a long breath. When she came back to her senses, she found herself, of all things, somewhat moved.
—It was indeed fitting that you cultivate this Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method of mine.
At the same moment.
[Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method is greatly astonished, then sinks into admiration.]
[It had prided itself on knowing all the ritual law under heaven; yet today it learned that there is heaven beyond heaven. Such verbal craft—even were it to cultivate a thousand more years, it could not hope to match it. Chengming is not merely one who knows ritual—he is in truth a sage of the official arena.]
[Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method favorability +10]
[Favorability +10]
[Current favorability: 63 / Liked]
[Favorability rank up: from [Friendly] to [Liked]]
[Special state unlocked—[Bright Mirror Hung High]]
[Bright Mirror Hung High: While in office, your heart is as a bright mirror. When you are within the territory of the Great Qian, or are bearing a token of official identity, your spirit-soul strength is increased by 30%, and you possess extreme resistance to all illusion, charm, and mental-control class techniques. Furthermore, when you act in the name of the great principle or of the law, your speech will carry an "Awe-Striking" effect, which can make the guilty-hearted tremble and cause petty villains to retreat.]
After a long while.
Zhou Qingmu slowly straightened up and broke into a smile. Her tone now held not the slightest trace of probing or examination—only satisfaction:
"Enough. Since you have already joined this bench, there is no need for further ceremony. You've had a long day; go back early and rest."
Gu Chengming caught her meaning at once, and made another deep bow:
"This subordinate thanks the lord for her consideration. I take my leave."
With that, he straightened up, without the slightest dragging of his feet, turned, and walked out toward the garden gate.
Vice-Commander Liu and the others had long been staring with their jaws on the floor. It was only when Gu Chengming had walked far off that they suddenly came back to themselves.
…
After a while.
Within the rear garden, following Gu Chengming's departure, Zhou Qingmu once again raised her teacup and took a light sip.
The tea, which she normally found somewhat bitter, today seemed inexplicably to carry a touch more sweet aftertaste.
She tilted her head slightly and looked at Wang Daoling and Vice-Commander Liu beside her, both of whom were still a little shaky. In a markedly good mood, she said:
"This Gu Chengming is a fine seedling."
"Pass down the order. All of his treatment within the Bureau is to be given by the highest grade—first-class preferential."
"And another thing."
Zhou Qingmu paused: "That Nightmare Roving Corpse case—transfer it in full to him to handle."
"There's no need to assign him too many helpers. Let him investigate it himself."
Vice-Commander Liu was alarmed: "Director, that's a third-realm fiend, with a faction behind it. Sending a newcomer to investigate it—isn't that a little…"
"I have my own judgment."
Zhou Qingmu cut him off. Her tone, though even, carried an extremely strong confidence in Gu Chengming.
Vice-Commander Liu naturally could only assent helplessly, thinking inwardly that the Director simply met too few people, so much so that she likely figured any disciple with a touch of talent must be as dazzlingly brilliant as she was herself.
Using a matter like this as a trial—Little Gu wouldn't survive it even with ten lives.
He could only think about whether he himself might be able to lend some help on the side later.
Gu Chengming naturally knew nothing of Vice-Commander Liu's secret schemes.
And Vice-Commander Liu, after receiving that weighty case file, did not rush to hand it over to Gu Chengming either. Instead, he pressed it down on his desk under a paperweight.
A craftsman who wishes to do his work well must first sharpen his tools.
He had naturally sensed that Gu Chengming's abundant spiritual energy was on the verge of breakthrough. He thought to himself that there would be plenty of time to inform him of the matter once he had broken through to the second realm.
Time slipped by; in a flash, several more days passed.
Within his sea of consciousness, the changes in his several great cultivation methods were the most directly visible.
"Flowing Cloud Moon-Following" and the "Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method" went without saying—the shift from Friendly to Liked was the moment of greatest qualitative change for a cultivation method.
The Huiyuan Sword Art rather enjoyed the present—great city, small alleys, gray bricks and dark-tiled eaves—like that busy yet peaceful time a newlywed couple has just after they've come together.
As for Old Hundred, it remained mired in its inescapable self-narrative of heaven-mandated destiny. Every day, besides urging Gu Chengming to eat well and drink well, it kept clamoring about when they could go grab another fortunate windfall.
Under the joint impetus of these several forces, Gu Chengming clearly felt the loosening of the boundary.
From the first realm to the second was the first true watershed on the cultivator's path.
First realm—Qi Refining—was still merely an extension of the mortal martial warrior: tempering the sinews and bones, accumulating internal breath. The second realm—Foundation Building—was to forge, within the dantian's sea of qi, the very foundation of the great Dao.
This single step had stopped no one knows how many cultivators.
But at this moment Gu Chengming felt that the layer of paper across the window had only to be poked through.
Deep within the small courtyard.
These few days, the Capital had had several autumn rains. The weather had turned cooler.
The leaves of the old tree in the courtyard had begun to yellow, drifting down in the wind with a soft rustle, carpeting the ground in gold.
Yu Wenqiu, instead of lying on her soft couch reading storybooks as she usually did, had rolled up her sleeves, and rarely for her, showed a touch of the virtuous, domestic side.
From who-knows-where, she had procured a large basket of fresh osmanthus blossoms. She was sitting by the stone table, painstakingly picking the impurities out from among the petals.
An autumn wind blew past, lifting a few strands of dark hair to brush her somewhat languid face. Today she wore no rouge or powder, dressed only in a plain set of everyday robes—which made her look all the more clear and lovely beyond the dust of the world. Those hands, which on ordinary days were used only for turning pages or gripping a sword, were now pinching the delicate osmanthus blossoms, looking rather cautious about it.
Her movements were not skilled, even somewhat clumsy. Occasionally she would crush a few of the tender pistils from too forceful a pinch, and each time she did, she'd wrinkle her nose in some chagrin and steal a glance at Gu Chengming meditating not far away. Seeing she hadn't been caught, she'd nonchalantly continue with the work in her hands.
This Elder, who normally said she didn't bother with anything and loved nothing more than slacking off, was actually meticulous as a hair in the heart.
"This wretched osmanthus is truly hard to look after."
Yu Wenqiu grumbled to herself silently, though her fingertips never paused.
She knew Gu Chengming was at the edge of breakthrough these days, his mind and spirit drawn taut, so she'd deliberately found some trivial chores to do—to ease her own heart.
The shadows of day slanted west; kitchen smoke curled into the air.
From the kitchen came the sound of steaming baskets, accompanied by a rich, sweet, cloying fragrance of osmanthus that pervaded the entire small courtyard.
That was the osmanthus cake Yu Wenqiu had steamed with her own hands.
Though their appearance was truly nothing to write home about—
—some had sagging middles, some had cracked tops, the sizes were uneven, utterly lacking the elegant, jewel-like form of the Capital's pastry shops—still, when the steaming cakes were brought to the table, Gu Chengming was the first to pick one up and pop it into his mouth.
Soft and chewy in the mouth, the sweetness penetrating to the heart.
The taste was actually not bad.
Gu Chengming chewed slowly. A warmth slid down his throat. He raised his eyes and caught Yu Wenqiu's gaze—half expectant, half affecting nonchalance—and couldn't help a faint smile:
"Elder Yu has fine craft. This cake suits me well."
At his words, Yu Wenqiu's brow lifted slightly. The corner of her mouth curled up in a smug arc, leaving only a pair of crescent-moon eyes:
"But of course. When this Elder takes a hand, how could the product be anything ordinary? Eat plenty—don't waste this Elder's effort."
Another day later.
Gu Chengming sat cross-legged on his cushion, casting aside all stray thoughts, sinking his mind and spirit into his dantian.
At this moment, the small courtyard had already been sealed off by a barrier formation that Yu Wenqiu had set up; all the outside clamor was held outside the walls.
Inside the room, sandalwood smoke drifted in fine wisps; the silence was perfect. Gu Chengming's eyes were tightly closed, his breathing long and even, the qi-mechanism around his body drawn in to its utmost—he might as well have been an inert, lifeless stone.
However, within his body, a different scene was unfolding.
The gaseous spiritual energy that had filled every part of his meridians, now under the pull of the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method, was, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, madly converging upon the sea of qi in his dantian.
Hundred Bones Resonance, at this moment, also no longer clamored. Instead, it transformed into a vast, mighty surge of blood-qi force, anchoring itself in his physical body, protecting the meridians around it, so that the spiritual energy would not run amok and damage his root foundation.
The spiritual energy in Gu Chengming's body began to madly compress, collapse, undergo qualitative change.
One drop, two drops… one drop, two drops…
At last, the first drop of liquid "true essence" condensed and took form deep within the dantian.
However, at this critical moment, an unexpected change suddenly arose.
Because of the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method running at full power, plus the fact that Gu Chengming was at this moment within the Capital of the Great Qian—the place where the dynasty's dragon-qi gathered most thickly—
That mood of "ritual," of central balance and harmony aligned with the order of heaven and earth, had unwittingly resonated in some marvelous way with the vast national fortune of the Great Qian outside.
"Hmmmm—"
A low, deep humming sound rose—not from inside Gu Chengming's body, but from deep within the earth of the Capital, from the dragon-qi coiled above the Imperial City.
Gu Chengming was not aware of the change outside. He only felt a force, carrying the boundless pressure of imperial dao, surge forcibly into his body along some invisible link—pushing him through the barrier!
For an official of the Great Qian, this would have been a longed-for, sought-after opportunity.
But for a sect disciple in the midst of breaking through to the second realm—and one of sensitive identity at that—this was a fatal exaltation, praise that would kill.
Outside the small courtyard.
Yu Wenqiu, who had been idly watching over the formation's eye out of boredom, suddenly went pale.
She snapped her head up to look at the sky over the Capital.
"Dragon-qi?!"
Yu Wenqiu's whole mind blanked.
You're breaking through to the second realm—what in the world are you stirring up dragon-qi for?
No, wait—you're not even at the second realm yet. How on earth did you stir up dragon-qi?!
Yu Wenqiu knew that if this matter became known to the Great Qian imperial house, there would be no end of trouble.
A disturbance this large would inevitably alert the Imperial Astronomical Bureau and the masters within the Imperial City.
She ground her teeth, but her movements did not allow themselves the slightest delay.
—Using blood as the guide, deceive heaven, deceive earth!
The Wenjian Sect had been founded several thousand years ago. Its sword arts were countless; its arcane arts likewise not few.
But there was one arcane art which, though not a forbidden technique, had—because of the severity of the conditions for its cultivation and the height of its demands on talent—gone unmastered by anyone for several thousand years, save the founding patriarch himself.
That was—[Clairvoyant Eye].
Looking up, it beholds the azure heavens; looking down, the dark Yellow Springs. It can spy out heavenly secrets, can throw yin and yang into disorder…
It can deceive heaven.
Yu Wenqiu's hands clutched at empty air, as though seizing some thread of vein in the void, then gave a violent wrench.
Hum!
An intangible ripple instantly spread outward.
To outside observers, that anomalous phenomenon which had been thrusting straight at the heavens and was about to descend upon the small alley—in midair, without the slightest warning, it twisted aside.
Having done all this, Yu Wenqiu could no longer hold on. She coughed up a mouthful of blood, and her whole body sagged to the ground.
A real loss this time…
Yu Wenqiu wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and looked toward the west wing, her eyes carrying both vexation and a measure of relief.
—Little Gu, no matter what you say, you're going to owe me a few rolls of storybooks in compensation for this one.
…
Within the west wing.
The towering waves outside did not affect Gu Chengming in the slightest.
As the dragon-qi entered his body, the final barrier within him collapsed at last, utterly.
"BOOM—!"
The sea of qi surged; true essence turned to liquid.
Second realm—achieved.
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