Song Changfeng lay crumpled in the corner, barely conscious, watching through the edge of his vision as the young man walked slowly toward him.
His face twitched. His throat worked. Ragged, wheezing sounds escaped him. His body — numb with pain — tried to inch backward on its own.
He couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed.
Years ago, it had been Song Changfeng himself who’d plucked Shen Yi out of a pile of street thugs. He’d seen the sharpness in the young man’s eyes and thought it worth cultivating.
He hadn’t anticipated Shen Yi being quite that sharp — sharp enough to carve out a comfortable position in Baiyun County, build working relationships with demon factions, and keep the yamen’s books looking clean. All of which had been useful, in a deeply uncomfortable way.
Even so, Song Changfeng had only ever kept his distance. Avoided, tolerated, looked down on inwardly.
Now, for the first time, what rose in his chest wasn’t contempt.
It was fear.
Three ape demons, slaughtered without apparent effort. That kind of power didn’t come from a few months of training. It didn’t come from a man who spent every evening drinking and womanizing and had to brace his lower back just walking across the room.
Song Changfeng thought about that — and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air.
All that time, all that concealment. What has he been planning?
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the young man arrive until the shadow fell over him. He threw his hands up over his face.
Then the floor dropped away. Someone had hoisted him onto their back.
Shen Yi felt the middle-aged man shaking against him and let out a slow breath. “Really? I didn’t even break anything.”
The criminal division was responsible for public order across the entire county. Its chief, trembling like this with the demons already dead. If not for the garrison troops in the military quarter keeping eight hundred men on the city walls, the demons would have cleaned out Baiyun County’s population long ago.
Song Changfeng said nothing.
Shen Yi thought about asking where the man lived — and as the thought formed, his feet were already moving. Out of the yamen, up the eastern street.
The hour was deep into the night. The road was black and indistinct.
Shen Yi didn’t feel lost for a moment. The predecessor’s memory guided him to a small courtyard he recognized. He knocked.
“You still know the way back? Could’ve died out there for all anyone cares.”
The gate swung open on a cool voice.
The woman who opened it was somewhere around thirty — pink gauze robe, features full and lovely, skin that spoke of careful maintenance, a figure that filled a doorway in a way that was very difficult to ignore.
She looked at Shen Yi’s face, and something shifted in her long, narrow eyes — a flicker of pleased surprise. “What brings you here? The old man still stuck at the yamen?”
“…”
Shen Yi’s expression went slightly odd. He stepped to the side so she could see what he was carrying.
The woman took in the sight of the “old man” on his back without much alarm, and fixed her husband with a flat stare. “You sat there drinking tea and still managed to end up like this. Honestly.”
Even Shen Yi felt a twinge of sympathy for Song Changfeng.
Career in shambles. Subordinate he couldn’t control. Came home to be scolded. And somewhere in his late forties, the man had taken a young and lively second wife — only to have her attention wander in an entirely predictable direction.
He carried Song Changfeng inside, laid him on the bed, and watched the man turn his face deliberately toward the wall and begin performing unconsciousness.
Saved your life and not even a thank you. Shen Yi shook his head and walked back out.
He’d barely stepped into the courtyard when a warm, soft weight pressed against his arm.
“What happened tonight?” Song Changfeng’s wife tucked herself against him, threading his arm through hers with practiced ease, voice dropping into something concerned. “You’re all right? Come inside — let me have a proper look at you.”
“Ah.” Something unsteady moved through Shen Yi for just a moment.
He glanced at the closed door behind him.
Then he eased his arm free. “Chief Song was the one who dealt with the demons. I still have things to wrap up at the yamen. Another time.”
She watched him walk away and stamped her foot at his back. “He dealt with the demons — him? That useless man? You’re unbelievable.”
Shen Yi came out onto the empty street.
He stood there for a moment, pulling his collar closed against the night air.
The warmth and softness still lingered, faintly, at the edge of awareness.
Not that he was thinking about the woman particularly. It was more an absence he was noticing — a hollow feeling, vaguely unsatisfying.
He didn’t approve of the situation in Song Changfeng’s household. But something like what Chen Ji had — someone leaving a lamp on, someone to come home to — that wasn’t a bad thing to imagine.
Too bad the predecessor had been a complete disaster of a human being. No parents since childhood. No friends worth mentioning. The only company in his bed had always been paid for.
Shen Yi drew in a long breath of night air and pulled up the panel.
【Sentient Ape Demon — Pre-Threshold. Total Lifespan: 326 years. Remaining: 44 years. Absorbed.】
【Sentient Ape Demon — Pre-Threshold. Total Lifespan: 355 years. Remaining: 78 years. Absorbed.】
【Sentient Ape Demon — Pre-Threshold. Total Lifespan: 420 years. Remaining: 83 years. Absorbed.】
【Remaining Demon Lifespan: 222 years】
All of it was going into the Thunder-Wind Scripture.
The Demon-Subduing Solarblade had proven its worth — no question there. That first real test against the old ape had let Shen Yi feel, for the first time, the actual process of blood and qi converting into something else. The blade transcended questions of raw force and refined technique. It touched a different order of things entirely.
But at the end of the day, it was a workaround. A mortal man forcing his way temporarily into a state that wasn’t his by nature. It couldn’t compare to genuinely inhabiting the Threshold Realm.
Two hundred years. I wonder if it’ll be enough.
He knew he wasn’t gifted. Forging a path where none existed took time — more time than talent could substitute for. He didn’t have the luxury of waiting for a complete technique to fall into his lap.
Three ape demons had just vanished from Baiyun County. That was nothing like losing a Dog Demon or two — the remaining apes would notice quickly. Losing most of your family in one night wasn’t the sort of thing a Greater Demon let pass without response.
Baiyun County sat at the edge of four demon territories: the Yellow King’s pack to the west, the ape clan in the Eastern Mountains, a demon serpent who called herself the Azure Scale Matriarch, and a fox faction rounding out the four.
He’d already made enemies of two of them.
He’d been careful — but demons didn’t require evidence before seeking revenge. Suspicion was sufficient reason to level an entire county.
Deal with it when I get home.
His head was beginning to ache with it all. He wasn’t a naturally ruthless person — the reckless edge he’d been carrying since waking up in this body had come largely from having one year left to live and nothing much to lose. Now he had twenty years of lifespan and a genuine glimpse of what lay beyond the mortal ceiling.
If there was a way to keep living, he wanted to take it.
Mind drifting, he finally made his way back to his own quarters.
It was a small side room — a step above Chen Ji’s woodshed, by yamen allocation standards, though not by much. The predecessor hadn’t bothered putting money into housing despite all the money he’d extracted from the county. Why bother, when in Baiyun County, he could sleep wherever he liked.
The room was a disaster.
Shen Yi looked at it with distaste and, fighting his own exhaustion, began clearing it out — no broom to be found, so he hauled the clutter and the scattered wine jars out to the back courtyard one armful at a time.
He looked at the greasy sleeping mat. His expression soured. Out it went too.
When it was done, he lay down on bare wood, and his eyelids immediately began their negotiations.
In principle, a body at mortal peak had no business feeling tired. But perhaps there was only so much a person could see in a single day before something in them simply wanted to stop.
Sleep came in heavy and fast.
Shen Yi closed his eyes and let himself have one quiet moment.
If there was anything missing, it was something warm to hold on to.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
He opened his eyes.
Looked at his bed.
…
(End of Chapter)