Two old donkeys plodded out of the county town one behind the other.

Chen Ji rode with his head down, expression tight.

He hadn’t expected Shen Yi to actually agree to ride out — and he certainly hadn’t expected to be brought along. That was completely out of character.

It should have been good news. And yet…

He glanced back.

Shen Yi sat on his donkey with one hand holding a martial arts manual open, reading with the focused absorption of someone who’d just discovered a new hobby.

By the usual routine, before any dealing with demons, Shen Yi would dispatch his subordinates to buy quality wine and meat — what he called “proper etiquette.”

Chen Ji had always found that practice quietly infuriating.

But today they were riding out empty-handed, and somehow that made him more uneasy, not less. If they couldn’t manage the two demons at Liuli Temple village, the several hundred farmers living there wouldn’t last long.

“Stop looking back every five seconds. Watch the road. And stop being jealous of my face.”

Shen Yi closed the manual and set it in his lap.

The panel had already updated with two new entries.

【Cloudscattering Longfist — Untrained】

【Serpentine Eight Strides — Untrained】

A striking art and a movement technique — alongside the Demon-Subduing Bladework he already had, these were everything the Demon Suppression Commander had passed down.

Getting all three to Minor Mastery would give him the foundation to handle lesser demons.

Shen Yi didn’t waste time deliberating. He began feeding his remaining demon lifespan into the movement technique first — the most glaring gap in his current toolkit.

A sharp blade means nothing if you can’t close the distance.

【Your martial foundation is already deep, your body powerful and conditioned. In just one year, you achieve basic proficiency in Serpentine Eight Strides.】

【By year three, your footwork grows increasingly elusive. Minor Mastery achieved.】

【Six years in, the Eight Strides have become pure instinct. Major Mastery.】

【Year eleven — you move like a ghost. No tells, no patterns. Perfection.】

【Remaining Demon Lifespan: 25 years】

Shen Yi felt the shift in his body and was quietly impressed.

The panel factored in his current physical state when calculating progress. Of course it did — a seasoned veteran who’d spent decades devoted to the blade would naturally pick up new techniques faster than someone starting from scratch. One skill bleeds into another.

Without really thinking about it, he adjusted his posture on the donkey — and immediately felt lighter, like his body was coiled and ready to cover ten feet in a single burst.

A shame there was no room to test it properly right now.

He pulled his attention back and began pouring the remaining demon lifespan into the Cloudscattering Longfist, hoping this time he’d get another glimpse of something at the Threshold Realm.

The results were a mild disappointment.

【You have no particular gift for striking arts — but twenty-five years of grinding yields results regardless. Your fist strikes like rolling thunder; your open palm can split stone. Cloudscattering Longfist reaches Perfection.】

【Year twenty — no further progress. You begin to feel you’re wasting your time.】

【Year twenty-three — doubt creeps in. It seems as though Perfection may simply be the ceiling for this art.】

【Year twenty-five — through years of quiet reflection, your fundamental understanding of striking and palm techniques has grown. Striking Affinity acquired.】

Every last year of demon lifespan spent. The full returns were laid out on the panel.

【Cloudscattering Longfist — Perfection】

【Serpentine Eight Strides — Perfection】

【Striking Affinity: Reduces training time for striking and palm arts. Increases the chance of breakthrough insights.】

Three martial arts at Perfection, and a passive talent on top of it — but still nothing about the Threshold Realm that Shen Yi had been hoping for.

He tilted his head slightly. “The Demon Suppression Division — aren’t they due for their inspection of our county soon?”

Chen Ji, focused on the road, went still. Something complicated moved behind his eyes, though he didn’t turn around. “Approximately one month from now, sir.”

He understood perfectly what the remark meant.

The entire Baiyun County yamen was neck-deep in the same swamp. The single most pressing task facing all of them right now was surviving the Division’s inspection — presenting a clean, peaceful picture of county life when the auditors arrived.

One wrong step and most of them would be decorating the execution grounds at the market square. The youngest and most handsome head on those posts would, without question, belong to Shen Yi.

So that’s it. Chen Ji thought. Today’s unusual behavior all makes sense now.

If there was one person in this yamen who actively welcomed the Demon Suppression Division’s arrival, it was Chen Ji. He genuinely hoped — with every fiber of his being — that the court would come and flay Shen Yi alive.

If that man hadn’t been suppressing information and faking reports, the Division would have taken over Baiyun County long ago and swept the surrounding area clean of demons.

“One month.”

Shen Yi rubbed his temple.

According to the predecessor’s memories, he was too low-ranking to have any direct channel to the Demon Suppression Division. If he wanted access to more advanced martial arts, he’d have to wait for them to come to him.

The question was — if he could reach the Threshold Realm within that one month, would it be enough to earn a place in their ranks?

Not enough demon lifespan. Not nearly enough.

While his thoughts drifted, the two donkeys had come to a stop at the edge of a paddy field.

Shen Yi looked up the slope at a small temple in advanced stages of ruin — the deity’s statue sitting exposed to the elements, half-covered with old straw, the offering platform half-collapsed and choked with weeds.

The farmers had stopped bothering to pray. That told you everything about the depth of their resentment.

“This way, sir.”

Chen Ji tied the donkeys and pointed the direction.

They crossed the narrow paths between the paddies at a quick pace. A loose cluster of farmers in ragged clothes stood watching from a distance — hollow-faced, eyes listless — and when they recognized the constable uniforms, they turned away and crouched back down. No cries for help. No petitions.

They knew perfectly well who’d brought this suffering to their door.

Chen Ji felt those distant eyes on him and said nothing. A flush of shame crept across his young face — and then, as his gaze moved to Shen Yi’s utterly unbothered expression, the shame curdled into something closer to fury.

He pulled his bamboo hat lower to cover most of his face. “This is the household, sir. A Fox Demon’s descendants attacked in the night. You’ll understand when you see inside.”

Fox Demon wasn’t referring to a common fox.

Demons organized themselves into factions, most bound by bloodline, each claiming their own territory. Different factions had different appetites — some demanded fresh meat, some demanded women, others wanted valuables.

Among them was a pack of Dog Demons, and this pack had the closest ties with Shen Yi. Their patriarch was a massive old yellow dog who styled himself the Yellow King.

“Open it.”

Shen Yi gestured with his chin.

Chen Ji pushed open the wooden door.

The narrow room beyond was soaked in a dark, nauseating red.

Dim light. On the table, a body had been methodically taken apart — the pieces stacked with almost surgical neatness. What didn’t fit on the table had been threaded onto straw rope and hung from the rafters.

A Dog Demon sat on the edge of the bed, holding a large thigh bone in both hands, chewing rotten flesh with the blank patience of someone eating lunch.

Its eyes were sharp — the watchful eyes of a loyal guard dog.

When it registered who had walked in, those eyes softened slightly. “Well. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Shen Yi stepped inside, breathing through the stench, glancing around the room without hurry.

Chen Ji had already seen this scene once. It didn’t matter. Stepping back into that room, the face beneath his hat twisted despite himself. His hand found the hilt and started shaking — and three inches of blade cleared the scabbard before he caught himself.

His talent was real. Three years, and he’d already driven the Commander’s martial arts to Minor Mastery — more than enough to take on this demon. He’d probably win. Barely.

The reason he’d held back earlier and returned to report rather than fighting was twofold: his sister at home, and the Yellow King standing behind this demon. Strike recklessly, and whatever came next would be far worse.

Then a steady hand reached over and quietly pressed his blade back into its sheath.

Chen Ji looked up at Shen Yi’s profile, waiting.

Whatever else this man was — however rotten his soul — surely at the sight of a fellow human being’s remains arranged like cuts of meat on a butcher’s table, some flicker of feeling had to surface.

Shen Yi looked at the Dog Demon at last.

His eyes were flat. Unreadable. And then, slowly, the corners of his mouth curved upward, revealing a clean row of white teeth.

He smiled.

Chen Ji’s heartbeat went quiet. He looked away, dropping his gaze to the floor, unwilling to watch whatever pleasantries came next.

(End of Chapter)