I woke up to three rounds of rooster calls outside the window. Dawn had only just broken, yet the noise outside was already lively.

  Last night’s farce had somehow, by sheer dumb luck, turned into the catalyst for Shangguan Fengliu and his wife to reconcile.

  Later I heard that the two of them talked all night, laying bare every knot they had bottled up over the years.

  As it turned out, that old incident Prefer Li once described as “Madam Shangguan tipping someone off” was not what outsiders had imagined.

  Yes, she had spoken coldly back then, her words sharp, even saying she was willing to “confess.” But it had been nothing more than a desperate stopgap. Prefect Li had already seized Shangguan Fengliu’s weak point—submit, or die.

  Madam Shangguan had been frantic, with no choice but to play along with Prefect Li’s tune.

  And with the tacit understanding forged from years of living side by side, Shangguan Fengliu had caught the hidden message at once. He had willingly allowed himself to be “captured,” choosing prison over dragging her down with him.

  Yet when they later met again, the atmosphere had been stiff. Though both knew in their hearts that neither was at fault, neither was willing to be the first to say it aloud.

  Until last night—my reckless antics shoved everything straight to the breaking point. Only then did the softness in her heart finally give way. And only then did Shangguan Fengliu truly realize that she had never blamed him—at most, she had only resented the cruelty of fate.

  Now that the misunderstanding was cleared, the two were inseparable again. Early that morning, they walked out side by side, so sweet it was almost cloying. Even the lantern boy they passed couldn’t help clicking his tongue in envy.

  Good news does wonders for a man’s spirit. Shangguan Fengliu looked practically reborn, his steps light as if the wind itself were carrying him. At daybreak he rounded up Lian, Hua, and the deputy envoy rushed off to the Western Altar to clean up the mess left by the rebels.

  Following the plan they had agreed on yesterday, they struck while the iron was hot. Not only did they completely quell the internal unrest, they also gathered the remnants, wiped out roaming bandits, pulled scattered manpower back into line, and reorganized the whole structure from top to bottom.

  As for me, I tossed and turned back at the inn. First I slept in until the sun was high, then I lay in bed trading barbs with the system for half the morning. Only when my stomach started growling in protest did I finally crawl out of bed.

  After washing up, I looked out at the bustling courtyard, let out a long breath, and patted my chest.

  “All right, all right. The engagement fiasco is finally over. Shangguan Fengliu and his wife are sweet again. And Lian… hasn’t strangled me yet.”

  Unfortunately, I was bored out of my mind. Watching everyone else run around busy while I sat alone at the inn felt unbearable. After some thought, I slapped my forehead.

  “Forget it. I’ll go out for a walk. Might as well ask around about that legendary Blood Lotus Sect ‘secret item’—see what it really is.”

  Still half groggy from drink, I wandered out, heading toward the Western Altar to check on things.

  The street stalls were already bustling. Oil crackled in hot woks, rich smells filling the air.

  Passing a pancake stand, I couldn’t help stopping. I pulled out my coin pouch and ordered a freshly made scallion pancake. The vendor worked fast, wrapping the steaming pancake in paper and handing it over.

  Just as I reached out to take it, the weight vanished from my hand. A blur flashed before my eyes—a scrawny boy darted past, the pancake clenched in his fist.

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  “Hey—!” I nearly bit my tongue and took off after him.

  The kid was fast—thin but nimble. In a few turns he vanished into a quiet alley. I chased him to the end, where he slipped into a crumbling earth god shrine. The door was broken, the statue inside missing arms and legs. A gust of cold wind sent dust raining down.

  I was about to shout when I heard a faint coughing sound inside. Peeking in, I realized he wasn’t alone. Two younger children were there as well: a sickly little boy curled on a straw mat, clutching a small girl whose eyes could barely stay open from hunger.

  The boy who had stolen my pancake didn’t even wipe the sweat off his face. He tore the pancake in half and thrust it toward them. “Quick—eat.”

  The little girl took one bite and burst into tears.

  My chest tightened. I almost forgot I’d chased them down to make a scene.

  The three children were dressed in rags, wearing expressions far too old for their age. When the older boy noticed me staring, his eyes flashed with wariness, like a startled wild animal.

  “We… we’re not bad people,” he said hoarsely. “We were just hungry. Really hungry.”

  I frowned, about to speak, when he gritted his teeth and added, “We ran away… from an organization. We’re not real siblings, but we’ve stuck together. If we get caught and sent back… it won’t end well.”

  “What organization?” I asked casually.

  His gaze shrank. He lowered his head and refused to say another word. The shrine fell silent, broken only by the children’s breathing. Seeing that, I didn’t press further.

  With a sigh, I handed him all the loose silver and copper coins I could find. “Use these to buy food.”

  He froze, clearly not expecting it. After a moment’s hesitation, he clutched the coins tightly and rasped, “…Thank you.”

  I waved it off and stepped out of the ruined shrine.

  “Ding—”

  The system’s notification chimed in my ear.

  【Evaluation: Lacking in ability, but at least decently kind.】

  I stumbled and nearly face-planted. “…What do you mean ‘at least’? Could you show a little respect in that evaluation?”

  The system replied coolly. 【Statement of fact.】

  “Tch.” I cursed inwardly. “Just you wait. One day I’ll show you what it means to have both ability and virtue.”

  System: 【Suggestion: Please refrain from boasting for now.】

  My teeth itched with frustration, but I couldn’t argue.

  Left with no choice, I flicked my sleeves and continued toward the Western Altar.

  After days of turmoil, the old compound finally showed signs of life returning.

  At the alley entrance, newly replaced red-tasseled banners snapped under the eaves. In the courtyard, copper basins lined the well, hot water steaming, carrying the sharp scents of herbs and lime. Cleaned black garments hung under the corridor, ropes pulled taut like drawn bowstrings.

  At the top of the steps stood Lian, dressed in deep crimson, hands clasped behind his back. He spoke little. With the occasional flick of a finger, someone would drag a kneeling former subordinate away—some recorded and spared, others sent off for labor.

  One man had smashed his forehead bloody against the stone. Lian’s expression didn’t change. “The rules stand. First offense—rank reduced. Copy the precepts a hundred times.”

  The man bowed in frantic gratitude, as if granted a reprieve from death.

  In a side courtyard, Hua had rolled up his sleeves and sat behind an eight-immortals table piled with account books, seals, receipts, and stacks of wax-sealed letters.

  Using his fan ribs like knuckles, he tapped the pages sharply. “Who messed with this month’s incense funds? The ink here is fresh—rewrite it. Change the code names on the covert list. Burn the old ciphers. Have the updates sent everywhere within three days.”

  Then he shot me a sidelong glance, tapping the table with his fan and grinning like a fox at a wedding. “My dear Gong, want to come help with the books?”

  I declined and fled.

  Further in was Shangguan Fengliu’s territory. The storehouse doors were wide open as he barked orders at the top of his lungs. “Replace that rice sack with a new hemp one! Seal the salt jars—seal them properly, not just slap mud on top! Bring out the medicine chests. Don’t toss the old formulas. Grab some realgar and mugwort and fumigate the storeroom!”

  His words were rough, but his eyes were sharp. He spotted a cracked oil jar in the corner and stuck out a foot to stop someone. “Replace this. If it catches fire at night, no one’s getting out alive.”

  He still found time to grin back at me. “Little brother, here to check on the sect—oh, I mean, on your partner?”

  I laughed awkwardly.

  Under the eaves of a side room, the deputy envoy squatted by a whetstone, pinning down a long blade and drawing it from hilt to tip, the rasping sound steady and clean. A bow leaned nearby, its string soaking in oil and glistening.

  He wasn’t much for words. When he saw me, he gave a single grunt, passed the sharpened blade to a subordinate, then looked me over carefully—his gaze stopping at my heels. “No rain today. Good time to dry grain.”

  After a pause, he added, “Change the watch from three shifts to four. Add two visible sentries at the city gate. Don’t let anyone slip through.”

  In my head, I ranked them quietly: one cold, one clever, one meticulous, one steady. Put together, they had forced this wreck of a situation into order, piece by piece.

  I couldn’t help clicking my tongue. At this rate, the Western Altar would soon be a model branch.

  As for the “secret item” I’d been obsessed with? Hah. Looking at this setup, finding even a single clue would probably be harder than ascending to the heavens.