The name landed, and the Niu brothers — barely a step out the door — went briefly still.

Then they dropped their heads, found something very important to look at in the middle distance, and hustled the thin middle-aged man out of the courtyard as quickly as their legs could manage.

Liu Qi’s reputation had reached even this corner of Baiyun County.

He’d come down from Qingzhou — a martial artist with a real lineage behind him, among the most prominent of the high-priced experts the local wealthy families had brought in. On the short list of names people invoked to feel safer at night, his sat near the top.

Those iron palms of his had split stone and shattered bone. Demons that had died under them were counted in the dozens.

“Are we going?”

Chen Ji watched the brothers’ retreating backs and found he couldn’t quite blame them. Baiyun County wasn’t large, and it had no proper martial sect of its own. Liu Qi had been the closest thing to a genuine powerhouse the local population could point to. People had slept easier knowing he was here.

If even he was dead, whatever had done it was almost certainly a Greater Demon.

And per Clerk Liu’s decree, demons were now Shen Yi’s problem.

Whether to go or not — that was the question. Technically no one had filed a report. Playing ignorant was an option. But this was the kind of thing street vendors could already guess. Pretending not to know would just make Shen Yi look useless on his first day, with a dereliction charge to follow.

“Terrible timing on this one.”

Chen Ji rubbed his temples. He had a talent, apparently, for walking in with bad news.

“Let’s go take a look.”

Shen Yi kneaded the space between his brows, smoothed over the brief flicker of irritation behind his eyes, and stood up, reaching for his saber.

This wasn’t about face. Other people could think what they liked.

He knew what was living inside the Lin estate. He’d personally helped put it there.

Every killing that fox demon committed added another entry to the ledger against Shen Yi’s name. If it was ever caught, the road to a Demon Suppression Division prison cell ran directly through him.

“…”

He and Chen Ji walked out onto the street.

The same curious looks from the morning followed them — until the thatched walls and packed-earth lanes gave way to grey brick and dark tile, and the stares thinned. In the wealthier eastern quarter, a constable’s uniform carried considerably less weight.

The Lin estate came into view — imposing and well-maintained, vermillion gate with brass handles, a pair of stone lions half a head taller than the ones in front of the yamen.

The gate was open by the width of one person. The Lin family’s steward — a round-faced man in a silk jacket and small cap — stood outside it looking miserable, waving off the gathered onlookers. “Move along, move along — is this a show?”

“If there’s a demon involved, let us know and we’ll go ask for help at the yamen.”

The crowd shuffled back without much enthusiasm.

“There’s no demon! There isn’t one!” The steward’s face scrunched. “I’ve said it eight hundred times. No demon.”

“You’re too timid. Did you not see the notice on the street? If Constable Shen can deal with Dog Demons in the western outskirts, what makes you think he can’t handle whatever’s in your house?”

A few people in the crowd with slightly more standing weren’t inclined to let the steward off easily.

“Constable Shen…” The steward looked away in contempt, thoughts heavy, not bothering to respond.

He knew more about Shen Yi than these people did.

When the man had brought the young mistress back safely from outside the city, the master of the house had been grateful — treated him well, even. Then the gambling started. The man showed up every few days to borrow money, and borrowed money from Shen Yi went the way of all borrowed money.

Things had been quieter recently, at least.

The master had no faith in the man regardless. When Liu Qi was found dead, he’d gone straight to the county magistrate’s residence and requested the Gaunt Monk.

The Monk looked like he’d blow over in a strong wind — all angles and no weight — but he’d served as a trusted attendant to the magistrate’s own master in Qingzhou for years. Liu Qi, in his lifetime, had called this man senior and meant it.

Someone of that standing had come to the Lin estate and made a thorough inspection.

His conclusion: no demon activity. Nothing for the master to worry about.

Liu Qi’s death he declined to discuss.

No demon. That was the word, and when a man of the Gaunt Monk’s stature gave his word, the matter was settled. Whatever the truth of Shen Yi’s demon-slaying, this was above his station.

The steward’s thoughts broke off as the crowd parted.

“He came — the notice was real!”

A young man with a saber approached at an unhurried pace, one constable behind him.

“Ah — Constable Shen.” The steward produced a strained smile, genuinely puzzled. Surely the man had heard of Liu Qi. Surely he knew what it meant that Liu Qi was dead. “Our young mistress isn’t at home, I’m afraid.”

Shen Yi’s brow drew slightly together.

Not here?

“Gone out to enjoy the spring scenery. Won’t be back for a few days.” The steward shook his head. “If you’ve come to see Miss Baiwei, I’m afraid you’ve made the trip for nothing.”

“I haven’t come to see her. Take me to the body.”

Shen Yi stepped up onto the stone stairs.

The fox demon was absent, and a martial expert was dead. That was odd.

The steward hesitated. If Shen Yi had come to sniff around on the pretext of the mistress being home, hearing she was away should have been enough to send him off. But if he genuinely intended to investigate—

The Gaunt Monk was still inside.

He raised his voice deliberately. “Constable Shen — the guest from the county magistrate’s residence has already come and looked things over.”

Chen Ji startled — then relaxed. If a real expert had already handled it, there was nothing left for them to worry about.

The onlookers murmured among themselves. That’s why the Lin family’s been so composed. Well — looks like we won’t be seeing Constable Shen in action today after all.

The steward looked back at Shen Yi with meaning. The message was clear: the responsibility couldn’t fall on you here regardless. Walk away with your dignity intact.

“…”

Shen Yi glanced at him, reading the poorly concealed anxiety the steward was trying to bury under composure.

“Looking costs nothing,” he said mildly.

The steward was genuinely surprised. This really did seem like a different person. The old Shen Yi would have thrown any problem this size over his shoulder and walked off counting money. What had gotten into him?

After a moment’s internal struggle, he stepped aside with a resigned smile. “Well — if you truly want to see, come with me.”

He turned to push the gate open, moved to step forward—

— and his expression froze.

Coming out through the gate, accompanied by the master of the house, were two unusual figures.

The first was tall and extremely thin — perhaps fifty years old, with eyebrows that hung down like dragon whiskers, dressed in a long black coat, built like a bamboo cane.

Behind him came a broad, powerfully built middle-aged man — rough-skinned, with a beard like iron needles, expression dull and heavy, wearing a greasy white short jacket, skin dark as charcoal, his distended belly protruding with an almost disturbing fullness.

The Gaunt Monk was smiling his mild smile, apparently in the middle of taking his leave from the master of the Lin household, when he raised his eyes and saw the figures in the gateway.

The steward’s heart lurched. He opened his mouth to explain.

The Monk’s smile settled slightly. He clasped his hands together in a courteous bow.

“Could this be young friend Shen? Your name has reached my ears. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

At that, the dark-skinned, rough-hewn man who’d been staring at the ground with a general air of grievance looked up — a single, light, passing glance in their direction.

(End of Chapter)