Li Xinhan let his expression settle.

He’d only been in this county for a few days, but he’d already taken the measure of it — rotten to the core, officials and demons working together against the people they were supposed to govern. It wouldn’t survive a proper inspection.

Which had naturally inclined him to look at every local constable with a certain predetermined assessment.

“Keep it quiet. Take him first. Bring him back for a thorough interrogation — we need to find Deputy Commander Lin.”

“Understood.”

The dozen figures dispersed quickly, silently sealing off every route of retreat along the entire length of the street.

Old Liu — the best with concealed weapons among them — dropped the candy pole and drifted toward the thatched-roof side house. The beggar fell in behind, calloused hand moving beneath his tattered sleeve, grappling technique honed to the point of instinct.

The two had worked together for years. One poison dart to open the engagement, then locking holds to immobilize — ordinary practitioners at the same cultivation level rarely lasted through the first exchange.

Then the beggar noticed Old Liu had stopped.

“What is it?”

He looked over, something uncertain passing through his eyes.

The door was open.

A young man with sharp features stood in the doorway, one hand resting lightly on his scabbard, watching the street in silence. As if he’d been expecting them.

“He heard us coming from that far away?”

The beggar was mildly surprised, but not concerned. After this many years and this many missions, there wasn’t much that gave them pause.

Besides, Li Xinhan was standing somewhere back down the street — a genuine Jade Liquid Realm practitioner.

What the beggar hadn’t expected was for Old Liu to quietly put the blowpipe away and offer the young man a smile.

“Evening again, sir.”

He’d seen the man on the street that morning, and it had been obvious even then that the constable had noticed something off. But he hadn’t said anything.

Someone who could identify a street vendor who’d been replaced at a glance — pulling the humble-and-unsuspecting act for a follow-up ambush would just make Old Liu look ridiculous.

“What can I do for you?”

Shen Yi nodded slightly, gaze passing over them both.

He couldn’t recall any previous dealings with jianghu people. Not calling them out that morning had been a matter of not wanting the bother — not fear.

“We have questions that require your attention. If you’d come with us.”

Old Liu stepped back half a pace in courtesy. The beggar read the signal.

He launched forward, both palms shooting out like a diving spear, fingers hooking like iron talons — a lock aimed at both shoulders, brutal and direct.

His hands closed around them.

His fingers drove in. Both arms exploded with force, trying to throw the man to the ground.

“Hgh—!“

The beggar let out a sharp sound, and blood rose to his face.

The young man was standing exactly as before. Feet planted as if grown from the ground. Every ounce of force the beggar had thrown into those arms had gone somewhere and disappeared without a trace.

Then Shen Yi kicked him in the stomach.

The beggar flew backward with a sharp cry, twisting through the air several times — and still hadn’t shed enough momentum when he hit the column on the far side of the street.

A crack. The entire food stall rocked heavily twice.

He slumped against the column, breathing ragged, veins standing out on his forehead. Several long moments passed before he could even think about standing.

Old Liu stared. So did every other figure on the street.

In close-quarters grappling, the beggar was the strongest among them — not counting Li Xinhan. And he hadn’t lasted a single exchange.

“…”

Old Liu’s smile became strained. He stepped back a few paces without quite realizing it.

His hand moved toward his identification badge.

Imagine having to flash credentials just to bring in one constable from a backwater county. The indignity was considerable.

Then a hand came down on his arm.

He turned. Li Xinhan had appeared beside him without sound, brow furrowed, nose faintly working — something had caught his attention.

“You’ve been near blood recently.”

Li Xinhan drew a slow breath, and when he looked at Shen Yi again, something sharp entered his eyes.

The others heard the remark and their expressions shifted from focused to tense.

They hadn’t come to Baiyun County for a routine inspection. Every trail pointing toward Deputy Commander Lin’s whereabouts had led to this young man. And now Li Xinhan was detecting blood on him, here, on a county street.

What would make Li Xinhan that careful — it wasn’t going to be pig blood.

Everyone closed in at once.

“…”

Shen Yi looked at the gathering faces, his gaze settling on Li Xinhan’s conspicuous black brocade robe.

I thought this was a nest of mice. Turns out it’s the cat that found me.

They’d moved faster than he’d anticipated. Even if the predecessor had somehow survived Old Liu’s father’s club that first night, he’d have run out of road long before today.

A clear conscience fears no knock at the door.

Shen Yi lowered his hand from the hilt without particular hurry. “The blood is demon blood, sir.”

At the hand leaving the hilt, several of them let out a breath they hadn’t consciously been holding — then looked at each other sideways.

Among Demon Suppression Division members, there was an unspoken pride about county-level posts that nobody said aloud but everyone felt. The idea that they’d been genuinely wary of a regular county constable was not a story any of them wanted getting around.

“Why are there demons in your home?”

Li Xinhan’s voice had an edge — the tone of someone who interrogated people for a living. Not unfriendly exactly, but built for compliance.

Shen Yi wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to this way, but he understood it. People who spent their lives with their necks on the line fighting demons didn’t come out of it naturally warm and approachable.

He stepped to one side.

Li Xinhan’s brow knitted again. He was already drawing breath to speak when Old Liu’s shoulder connected with his arm.

“Just look.”

He turned.

And went absolutely still. So did everyone else, one after another, as if struck by the same sudden realization.

In the small, cramped room, Lin Baixi was walking in from the back courtyard with a wooden basin of washed vegetables, blinking toward the doorway with mild curiosity.

The oversized men’s robe she was wearing made it quite clear whose it was.

It was extremely noticeable.

She looked at the assembled figures with some surprise and smiled. “What are you all doing here?”

Li Xinhan opened his mouth. Thought better of it. Closed it. He gripped his own hands and offered a formal bow.

“Your subordinate Li Xinhan — reporting to Deputy Commander Lin.”

The others followed immediately. Old Liu clicked his tongue, shot a sideways look at Shen Yi that was impossible to read, and explained: “It’s been a month without word from you in Qingzhou. We were sent to check on things.”

“You’ve all gone to a lot of trouble.” Lin Baixi shook her head with a slightly apologetic expression. “I’m all right.”

“We’ll escort you back to Qingzhou immediately.” Li Xinhan had registered that her qi wasn’t right.

“I’d like to stop by my family’s home first.” She pressed her lips together, a little self-conscious. “And — could we wait until after dinner? The lamb soup just went on.”

“As you wish, Deputy Commander.”

Something like warmth moved through the assembled Division members at that. This was the demon hunter whose name was known throughout Qingzhou — and she was exactly as the stories described. No airs whatsoever. The kind of person who made everyone around her relax.

The warmth didn’t last long.

It faded steadily as Lin Baixi moved in and out of the kitchen with practiced ease, while the young constable stood to one side in complete silence.

“…”

When the steaming lamb soup was finally on the table, Shen Yi discovered that eating a meal could be a genuinely difficult undertaking.

More than a dozen people were standing in the doorway, cold eyes fixed on the table with the focused energy of people waiting for something to conclude.

“Sorry about this.”

Lin Baixi had noticed too. Their eyes met across the table. The lamb was fragrant and tender. It tasted like nothing in particular.

She set down her chopsticks and sighed. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

Shen Yi clasped his hands in farewell and watched her walk into the group. More than ten figures dissolved into the dark at the end of the street.

He looked back at the empty room.

Stood quietly for a moment, then shook his head with a faint, self-deprecating sound.

He’d only been in this world for a short time, and already he’d developed all kinds of habits he hadn’t asked for.

Entirely his own fault.

He finished the food on the table, washed and put away the bowls, rinsed his outer robe and hung it to dry.

He lay back on the bed and slowly opened the panel.

(End of Chapter)