Under the moonlight, a lovely young woman of twenty stood not far from Chen Ping'an. In her hand she held a long sword, its blade still wet with blood that had not yet dried.
The two first-rank deacons of the Ten Thousand Demons Cult had indeed pinned Mu Wanjun down, but they too had paid no small price to do it.
Chen Ping'an looked up at the woman, and his gaze caught for an instant.
From so far away just now, he hadn't been able to see her clearly. But now that he was closer, Chen Ping'an could make out the woman's face.
"Which lane's office chief is this?! How can she be so young?!"
Chen Ping'an was astonished, but he still bowed respectfully at once.
"This subordinate pays his respects to Your Honor!"
Unable to tell where she had come from or how to address her, calling her "Your Honor" was the right call.
"Quite sharp, aren't you. What's your name?"
Mu Wanjun's cool, clear voice rang out.
"Answering Your Honor, this subordinate is Chen Ping'an, a temporary runner of Nanquan Lane."
"A temporary runner?" Mu Wanjun looked Chen Ping'an over with some surprise.
A clean, handsome face, red lips and white teeth — he was a fine-looking young man.
The only pity was that he knew nothing of the martial path!
"How old are you?"
Mu Wanjun regarded Chen Ping'an thoughtfully.
"Answering Your Honor, I am nineteen this year. In less than three months I will be twenty and come of age."
The boy was rather to her liking, and she had been thinking of transferring him into the Nancheng Suppression Office to groom him a little. But at his age he still hadn't even entered the martial path; even if he had some talent, the value of grooming him would be extremely limited. What's more, forcing his training would place an unimaginable burden on him. Rather than that, better to...
Hearing that Chen Ping'an was about to come of age, Mu Wanjun changed her mind.
The appearance of Wu Haihua, grand deacon of the Ten Thousand Demons Cult, within the commandery city was no small matter. Mu Wanjun had no mind to trade many pleasantries with Chen Ping'an.
"Chen Ping'an, I have noted your name. I will handle things here. Continue your night patrol!"
"Yes, Your Honor."
Chen Ping'an was delighted at heart, and answered with a cupped-fist salute.
It was just then that the sound of running feet and shouting came from the distance.
"Runners of the Suppression Office are here! Scoundrels, submit to your deaths at once!"
The sounding gong was the signal — the Suppression Office's reinforcements had arrived!
"Hmph." Mu Wanjun gave a cold snort, her face dark with anger. She paid Chen Ping'an no more heed; with a single leap, in a few bounds she vanished from his sight.
Chen Ping'an watched her go, his heart surging with excitement.
His name had been noted, and her meaning was clear enough. Surely a reward would be bestowed afterward.
His luck was good! This time, a scare and no harm done!
He had gambled and won!
Chen Ping'an didn't dare linger here long; he wanted to leave this den of trouble at once. Who knew whether those few might come wheeling back for a surprise strike. If they did return, he'd be in serious trouble.
Ai, in the end his strength was simply too weak.
Before this, after breaking into the qi and blood third layer, Chen Ping'an had felt a certain smugness. In Nanquan Lane he ranked among the noteworthy figures; in terms of strength, he had already reached the level of a head runner.
But the battle he had glimpsed from afar just now hit him like a blow to the head.
Even the least remarkable of the group, the one whose strength looked weakest, could blast down a whole wall with ease.
To Chen Ping'an, the contrast was all too stark!
Cultivation! Cultivation! Keep cultivating! No letting my guard down!
Having witnessed that scene, not a shred of the smugness and contentment in Chen Ping'an's heart remained.
In the latter half of the night, Jiming Lane was no longer the quiet, desolate place it had been.
A great many runners came rushing in, conducting a large-scale manhunt through Jiming Lane and the surrounding streets.
"What a grand show of force!"
Chen Ping'an sighed inwardly. It seemed that woman's influence was even greater than he had imagined.
He would have wished for nothing more than for the woman to be as powerful as possible — that way, the benefits he could obtain afterward would naturally be greater.
A night passed, and Chen Ping'an finished his shift without incident.
What he didn't know was that, over the next few days, because of the previous night's events, the entire South City District Suppression Office would be rocked by earthshaking changes.
Because he had patrolled through the night, the next day Chen Ping'an could take his day off as usual.
He finished his shift and returned home, where Chen Er Ya had long since prepared sweet, fragrant, soft rice porridge for him. Only after downing three big bowls in a row did Chen Ping'an feel about two-thirds full.
After finishing his morning Flying Locust Stones practice, Chen Ping'an exchanged a few words with Chen Er Ya, then went into the room and fell fast asleep.
By the time he woke, it was already past noon. Though he had slept only a few hours, Chen Ping'an felt refreshed and clear-headed, his mood light.
"Brother, you're awake." Stepping outside, he saw Chen Er Ya washing clothes in the yard.
"Mm, awake," Chen Ping'an answered.
"Brother, this morning, quite a few runners seemed to come by outside."
"Oh?" Chen Ping'an's first thought was of the previous night's events.
After all, the Ten Thousand Demons Cult had appeared in the commandery city, and had even traded blows with the Suppression Office's office chief. That was no small matter.
"Are they still here?"
"They've already gone," Chen Er Ya answered. "This morning they questioned every household, one by one. It was quite a big operation."
"Mm." Chen Ping'an nodded.
With the Suppression Office making such a commotion over its questioning, some of Nanquan Lane's gangs probably couldn't figure out the reason for a good while.
Under such high pressure, these gangs would surely keep their heads down for a time.
In that case, both he and Er Ya should be safe for the near term. The Tiger Head Gang's Little Tiger wouldn't dare poke his head out while the storm was at its height.
His heart settled, and after exchanging a few words with Chen Er Ya, Chen Ping'an began his Flying Locust Stones practice.
Having had his sleep, he was full of energy — enough to carry him through several sessions of Flying Locust Stones practice.
Time at home always passed with unusual speed. In one afternoon he practiced Flying Locust Stones three times, and idly, evening came around again.
After the two siblings finished dinner, they talked for a long while.
About the situation outside, Chen Er Ya seemed somewhat worried. Chen Ping'an, for his part, was calm — though beneath that calm there still lingered a thread of hidden worry.
Members of the Ten Thousand Demons Cult were roaming the commandery city. If one day cultists ran amok, slaughtering the innocent, and happened to come to their home, how would he deal with them?
Strength! He still needed strength! Without strength, in a world like this, a man couldn't even straighten his own backbone.
Arriving at the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office, Chen Ping'an could clearly sense the grim atmosphere inside. The runners who usually loitered about in twos and threes were scarce today. Most were silent, saying nothing.
Even Zheng Shiyong, usually so brash, seemed somewhat subdued.
Chen Ping'an asked Monkey about it, and learned that because Ten Thousand Demons Cult members had been appearing in Nanquan Lane, the district Suppression Office had issued directives, and everyone at the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office, from top to bottom, was bearing great pressure on every front. At yesterday's pre-shift assembly, because of numerous oversights in the details, Deputy Office Chief Tian Fuliang had flown into a rage.
As time went on, more and more runners arrived. Most wore heavy, grim expressions as they came in.
"Ping'an, Monkey, Dashan."
Even Old Qin, who didn't often show up, was not absent this time, and greeted the several of them.
"Old Qin," Chen Ping'an and the others answered.
Chen Ping'an observed him for a moment. Old Qin's expression didn't look too good either; he seemed a little worse off than when Chen Ping'an had seen him some days before. Chen Ping'an thought briefly, and understood what it was about.
That night's patrol had just been his and Old Qin's turn. Unexpectedly, trouble had broken out right then. This time Old Qin was lucky — no one pursued the matter, and he escaped it. But he wouldn't be so fortunate next time. It meant that for a long stretch, Old Qin probably wouldn't be able to steal any leisure and enjoy life.
Chapter 55