“I’m going to… kill you…”

Chen Ji was shaking from head to foot, the words coming out in something between a growl and a snarl.

Shen Yi cracked him across the face with the scabbard. A clean, sharp slap. It knocked the words right out of him.

“Pick up your blade and stand up straight. Talking tough after you’ve already lost is worthless — unless you’ve got someone to fight your battles for you.”

Chen Ji stared at the saber that had been kicked back to him, completely at a loss.

Shen Yi had already sheathed the scabbard and turned away. The message was clear: Chen Ji didn’t register as a threat.

He’d always believed he was the most quietly dangerous person in this entire yamen. After his private conversations with the Demon Suppression Commander, his perspective and his abilities had already put him leagues beyond his colleagues. The only reason he was still suffering under Shen Yi’s thumb was that he hadn’t yet had enough time to grow into his full potential.

Give it long enough, and—

Reality had just handed him a harsh correction.

Unless he’d badly misread what just happened, Shen Yi’s movements had carried the unmistakable signature of the Demon-Subduing Bladework — not as a technique being applied, but as something fully absorbed into the body, the kind of deep, unconscious mastery that only came with Perfection.

Faster than Chen Ji. More powerful. More at home in the technique than he was.

“But the Commander only passed these arts down three years ago. How could you possibly have reached Perfection already.”

Chen Ji picked up his saber and muttered the words mostly to himself.

Shen Yi walked over to the pile of constables still crumpled on the floor. “Where is she?”

Zhang Dahu opened and closed his mouth several times before actual words came out. “She— she’s— she—”

Since when does the boss know how to use a blade.

Shen Yi sighed and kicked him, sending him skidding half a meter across the floor. “I’m asking where she is.”

The predecessor had certainly left him a full plate.

The simplest way to understand the man’s operation: Shen Yi had been a broker — drawing a government salary while devoting his actual energy to servicing the needs of various demon factions.

Unlike the Dog Demon pack under the Yellow King, whose interests ran no deeper than eating people, there was another group to consider: a clan of old apes. Their tastes ran toward women — young ones, not yet fully grown — and they were viciously, casually brutal about it. Every woman the predecessor sent up the mountain was dead within a few months. The demand was constant.

This time, the two factions’ needs had collided.

The predecessor had originally arranged six girls for the apes — all of them young, none of them yet fifteen — and the Liu girl had been one of them. Then the Dog Demons had gotten interested in the Liu family for their own reasons.

Forced to find a replacement, the predecessor had turned his attention to Chen Ji’s sister. She was slightly older than his usual selections, but her looks made up for it by a wide margin.

“What a piece of work,” Shen Yi said quietly, shaking his head. His eyes had gone sharp.

He’d thought his previous life had given him a thorough education in how harsh the world could be. He was learning that suffering had gradations he hadn’t imagined.

Zhang Dahu could tell this wasn’t a performance for Chen Ji’s benefit. The boss was genuinely angry.

He hauled himself off the floor, rubbing his stomach, and led the way without further commentary.

Chen Ji followed close behind, jaw tight.

Two streets from the yamen, Zhang Dahu turned into a teahouse on a corner, through to a vegetable patch behind the latrines. Several young women lay there, bound hand and foot, caked in mud and barely conscious — clearly starved for some time.

“The old ladies from the house haven’t had a chance to come clean them up yet, so they look a bit rough,” one of the constables offered, anxious not to be blamed for laziness. “A bit of powder and rouge and they’d be perfectly—”

Zhang Dahu shoved him aside before he could finish.

“Boss.” He held out a sheaf of papers. “Their parents’ thumbprints are all on these contracts. Every one of them. It’s not like we wanted to — their families had no choice, and neither did we…”

Shen Yi took the contracts and was quiet for a moment.

“Go buy rice, flour, and salt. And pork. Plenty of it. Move.”

“Yes sir!”

Zhang Dahu was already turning to go. Years with Shen Yi had taught him one thing — the man’s methods were ruthless, and the ones who’d questioned him early on had ended up feeding the demons. Don’t ask questions that aren’t yours to ask.

“I said buy it.”

The flat reminder came from behind him. Zhang Dahu froze, turned around, and found himself looking into a pair of clear, steady eyes — none of the old cruelty, no particular edge of threat.

He couldn’t explain why his bladder suddenly became an urgent concern. His knees pressed together. “Understood, sir. Paying for it. With money. You have my word.”

Shen Yi looked away.

Chen Ji was crouched nearby in dark silence, pressing his nails into his own palm hard enough to leave marks.

“That’s enough,” Shen Yi said, without much energy. “We’re still on duty.”

He turned and walked out of the vegetable patch with the girls, leaving Chen Ji behind.

“The rest of you — get back to the duty room. Leave the supplies. Let him carry them.”

Chen Ji nearly laughed despite himself. After everything you did to my sister, you want me to be your errand boy?

Chen Jinyu, his sister, bit her lower lip and looked around with dazed eyes. She was a few years older than the other girls, and where they were trembling on the edge of panic, she managed to hold herself still — though only barely.

“Brother. I’m fine. Go do what you need to do.”

She knew his temper better than anyone. In situations like this, even she couldn’t always talk him down. Which meant she couldn’t afford to fall apart — it would only make things worse.

“Hurry up, it’ll be dark before we’re done.” Shen Yi’s voice drifted back from outside, blunt and unhurried.

The tone made Chen Jinyu tense. She looked at her brother with a flicker of worry in her eyes.

What she didn’t expect was for Chen Ji to stand up, say nothing, heft the rice and flour onto his back —

— and quietly say, “Stay close to me. I’ll take you home after shift.”

Chen Jinyu blinked at him, surprised.

Then, slowly, her gaze drifted toward the doorway, and something quietly curious moved behind her eyes.

(End of Chapter)