[POV: Meng Rong]

  The study of the Lord of Xincheng was heavy with the scent of ink and sandalwood. Sunlight filtered through the lattice windows, falling across shelves of meticulously arranged scrolls and maps. I stood before the long desk, arms folded within my sleeves, while my younger brother sat behind it, his back straight, his expression unyielding.

  “No, I refuse.”

  Meng Wu’s voice was firm, almost sharp.

  “There are orders to things,” he continued. “Even if you are my elder sister, there are lines I will not cross. The strategies you speak of sound grand, but in essence they lack substance. Moreover, this person you recommend for Chief Constable is suspicious.”

  I met his gaze steadily. He had always been like this, practical, rigid, and almost stubbornly moral. A good ruler, perhaps. But goodness alone was never enough in a world infested with cultivators and demons.

  “Sometimes,” I said calmly, “you must dirty your hands to get things done. Cultivators will not hesitate to use underhanded methods to achieve their goals, regardless of whether they claim to be orthodox or unorthodox. Letting Yakuza Man do the dirty work for us insulates you from the consequences.”

  As I spoke, an image rose unbidden in my mind of Yakuza Man standing before me, confidence bordering on arrogance, scolding me for even considering fleeing with the Meteor Child. Quick-witted. Decisive. Dangerous in a way that could be useful.

  “He is exactly the kind of person this position requires,” I added. “Someone who can move where you cannot.”

  Meng Wu’s brows knit together.

  “Fine,” he said at last, exhaling slowly. “But I refuse to let my citizens be used as pawns. From your own words, it seems this Yakuza Man would not mind doing so.”

  His gaze hardened, locking onto mine.

  “You may be my elder sister, and I may only be a mortal,” he said, each word measured, “but I swear upon my soul that if you cause so much as harm to my people, I will curse you to death.”

  I laughed softly.

  So this was how much he had grown.

  “Relax,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t mind you speaking to me this way. In fact, I appreciate your honesty. But remember this… Never use that tone with other cultivators. You do not know their temperaments, nor how fragile their patience can be.”

  I straightened, my expression turning serious.

  “And since you are being so cooperative,” I continued, “that confirms it. Yakuza Man will be appointed Chief Constable of Xincheng.”

  Meng Wu frowned and shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “You misunderstand. I said a compromise.”

  He leaned forward slightly, hands resting on the desk.

  “I will bestow upon him the position of Consultant Constabulary. A temporary post. It will grant him authority equal to that of the Chief Constable, but the final decisions will always rest with me… and with my Chief Constable. A man I have known for many years, someone I trust.”

  I studied my brother in silence.

  It might be cruel, but I had always intended to use Yakuza Man as a scapegoat, if it ever came to that.

  The matter of the Meteor Child was far too sensitive. I knew nothing of Yakuza Man’s origin, his true background, or what kind of ripples his existence might cause if exposed to the wider world. Entrusting him with something tied to ancient prophecy was a gamble bordering on madness. But that was precisely why he was useful. He was an ‘unknown’ I could easily discard if it came to it.

  My master used to speak of such things in passing, half as warning, half as story that when a Meteor Child appeared, it marked the turning of an era. Calamity, upheaval, and the collapse of old orders.

  Most cultivators laughed such tales off as folklore.

  I did not.

  I had seen the child with my own eyes.

  If sacrificing a seemingly good-natured stranger like Yakuza Man meant prolonging the secrecy of the child’s existence, even by a little, then… I was willing to bear that sin.

  “Whatever suits you, brother,” I said aloud, my voice calm despite the turmoil beneath it.

  Yet even as the words left my lips, doubt gnawed at me. Should I forcibly take the Meteor Child from him? Or trust this reckless, baffling man a little longer?

  I loved and respected Meng Wu. I truly did. But the years had pulled us onto different paths, and the distance between mortal governance and cultivation only widened with time.

  Suddenly, a wicked qi burst forth.

  My heart skipped.

  I turned sharply toward its source and found it leading to the direction of the House of Cherry Blossoms.

  Not long ago, reports had reached me of a possible spider demon. I had dismissed it too easily. Demonic beings that entered the Earthly Seal Domain suffered shortened lifespans due to the thin qi in the atmosphere. Most were cautious. Most avoided places like Xincheng.

  Perhaps… I should have taken it more seriously.

  “Elder sister?” Meng Wu asked, alarmed by my sudden change. “What is the problem?”

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  “Summon your constables,” I said without hesitation. “Head to the House of Cherry Blossoms. Arm them if you must.”

  The Earthly Seal Domain restricted cultivators below Qi Refinement, but demons were different. Non-human races often possessed terrifying physical advantages within the same realm. While such gaps could be bridged with experience and wisdom, the truth was the cultivators of this domain were not ready and they would die useless deaths in front of threats like this. .

  I activated my movement technique and shot forward, the world blurring beneath my feet.

  The wicked qi was violent, dense, malignant, and unmistakably alive.

  Someone was fighting it.

  Just as suddenly, the wicked qi vanished.

  I arrived moments later.

  And there he was.

  Yakuza Man stood amid shattered stone and splintered wood, his breathing heavy, his clothes torn and soaked with blood that was not entirely his own. At his feet lay the corpse of a woman. She was twisted, broken, and her human guise torn apart to reveal the monstrous truth beneath.

  A spider demon.

  My breath caught at the sight of her face.

  “Weng Xia…?”

  Of course I knew her. Anyone who spent time around my master did. He had a peculiar habit of “researching” human society through courtesan houses. I had met the madam owner of the House of Cherry Blossoms more than once.

  And now?

  She lay dead at Yakuza Man’s feet.

  Disbelief washed over me as I stared at the body. A genuine spider demon here, in Xincheng, slain!

  Yakuza Man lifted his head and looked straight at me, irritation clear despite his exhaustion.

  “Huh,” he said, wiping blood from his chin. “You sure took your sweet time.”

  He glanced down at the corpse, then back at me.

  “It’s over.”

  “I can’t believe Weng Xia was a spider demon,” I remarked, more to myself than anyone else.

  “This is not Weng Xia,” Yakuza Man said flatly.

  I turned to him. “How do you know that?”

  He nudged the body lightly with the tip of his bat, his expression grim rather than triumphant. “Because this spider wouldn’t shut up. She kept boasting about how she peeled the late madam’s face off while she was still alive. I don’t think she was lying.”

  A chill crept up my spine.

  Though, something else quickly distracted me.

  I looked again at Yakuza Man.

  His breathing had steadied far too quickly for someone who had just fought a high-ranking demon. The qi around him was… wild, untamed, but vigorous, surging back into balance on its own like a raging river correcting its course. There was no careful circulation, no orthodox rhythm, yet the recovery was unmistakable.

  However, I had this distinct feeling Yakuza Man had grown stronger.

  I had assumed he was a wandering cultivator at best, someone with crude foundations and poor control.

  But someone like that should not be able to kill a spider demon.

  My gaze drifted upward to the gaping hole torn through the upper floors of the House of Cherry Blossoms. Broken beams jutted out like snapped ribs, and the faint residue of wicked qi still clung to the air.

  No. There was definitely more to Yakuza Man.

  I crouched beside the corpse and began a swift autopsy. Blunt-force trauma dominated the injuries with overwhelming, repeated impacts that had shattered bone and ruptured internal organs. The demon’s chitinous armor had chipped and cracked in multiple places, especially around the four arachnid legs that had sprouted from her back. Even the inner mesh, normally resilient enough to deflect blades, had collapsed inward.

  Brute force, refined through terrifying efficiency.

  I extended my qi and probed deeper, locating the demonic beast core. With a precise pull of qi telekinesis, I extracted it from the body.

  It hovered in my palm. It was small and no larger than a pinky finger. Pinkish in hue, its surface etched with delicate, almost jewel-like embellishments. A mid-stage Qi Gathering demon, just as I suspected.

  Footsteps and rattling armor announced the arrival of the constabulary. A formation of guards rushed in, spears raised, faces tense beneath full body armor.

  “Too late, the lot of you!” I straightened, irritation sharpening my tone. “How long does it take for you lot to deploy? What if this had been an invasion? Do you understand the stakes of your tardiness?”

  The formation stiffened.

  A man stepped forward, clasping his fist respectfully. “I apologize on behalf of my subordinates, Lady Meng.”

  Teng Wen.

  On the surface, he was merely the lord’s personal guard, but in truth, he was also the Chief Constable of Xincheng, the man responsible for the city’s immediate defense.

  I studied him for a moment, then glanced back at Yakuza Man who was bloodied and battered, but still standing.

  The contrast was… troubling.

  I did not raise my voice, yet every word carried.

  “Form a perimeter and block the roads. Detain the courtesans and everyone you find inside—gather them in one place if you must. Look for the body of the late madam of the House of Cherry Blossoms. Spider demons feed on life force, not flesh. Her body should still be somewhere. Leave no stone unturned. Any suspicious materials are to be turned over immediately.”

  However, despite my assertive words, not a single constable moved.

  I exhaled through my nose and turned my gaze slowly toward Teng Wen. In moments like this, I found myself both admiring and resenting my brother’s people. Their loyalty to Meng Wu was absolute. Either they feared nothing, or their discipline ran so deep that even a cultivator’s authority meant little without proper confirmation.

  Teng Wen cleared his throat loudly. “You heard Lady Meng! Move!”

  The constables snapped into action at once, flooding the building and the surrounding streets with practiced efficiency.

  I turned away, satisfied.

  “You,” I said, fixing my gaze on Yakuza Man. “Come with me.”

  He looked at me with blatant indifference. “What for? I’m tired.”

  Yet despite the complaint, he followed. As he did, the bat in his hand vanished without a trace.

  A storage ring, probably.

  And not a low-grade one either. I felt no spiritual pressure, no ripple in the surrounding qi. Interesting. This man might be far wealthier or far more fortunate than I initially thought.

  I began inspecting the pillars, walls, and corners of the building, tracing my fingers along the stone as my senses extended outward. Something here had interfered with my perception earlier. I had felt wicked qi, yes, but neither its true depth nor continuity.

  That bothered me.

  I had always prided myself on my perception and my ability to recognize patterns. If my detection had been dulled, then it was not an accident.

  “What are you looking for?” Yakuza Man asked.

  “Found it,” I replied.

  I stopped before one of the load-bearing pillars and cast a revealing spell. Lines of light bloomed across the stone, unraveling into layered symbols and interlocking arrays. From a single node, the entire structure became clear to me.

  “A concealment formation,” I murmured. “One that suppresses and diffuses qi indiscriminately.”

  I straightened. “She’s been here for a long time. Long enough to build this without drawing attention. She must have suppressed her cultivation at the start, passing as a mortal while slowly reinforcing the formation.”

  No wonder I had been late.

  I glanced at Yakuza Man and spoke casually, as if discussing the weather. “The lord has decided to appoint you as Consultant Constabulary. If you want the details, speak to Teng Wen.”

  He raised a brow. “I thought you were giving me Chief Constable.”

  So he remembered.

  “Yes,” I said evenly, lying through my teeth to save face. “And I decided against it.”

  I paused, then added, “We can discuss salary. If you don’t like it, you’re free to refuse.”

  He chuckled. “What happened to the pretty librarian who was flirting with me?”

  “That,” I replied coolly, “was an act. You know that.”

  “I want a different compensation.”

  My steps slowed.

  So this was it.

  He didn’t know about the Meteor Child at least, not directly, but he wasn’t a fool. Anyone with half a brain could piece together that something sensitive was unfolding in Xincheng. Three sects arriving, my personal involvement, the urgency, the secrecy, and now his own demonstration of value by killing a spider demon far beyond the city’s means to handle.

  He was raising his price.

  I braced myself for demands of spirit stones, techniques, artifacts, perhaps even a request related to cultivation advancement. He was at the early stage of Qi Gathering, I shortly realized… Such requests would not have surprised me.

  “What do you want?” I asked carefully.

  Yakuza Man said plainly, “Help me find home.”