Chapter 27: Why Are You So Late?

Under the gaze of the skinny head monk, Chen Ji suddenly found his throat dry.

After all, he was still a young man with blood in his veins, joining the government office merely to earn a meal, his heart still yearning for the martial world.

Now that he saw this famed martial elder, even his hand gripping the sword hilt trembled with excitement.

Amid the excitement, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of reflection.

Both were government clerks, yet even this elder addressed Shen Yi as “young friend”—true reputation in the martial world was indeed forged by fists.

Chen Ji shook his head, recalling how Shen Yi, drenched in blood, had lounged lazily in the countryside, corpses still warm before him, and decided it was all fitting.

“Your reverence flatters me.”

Shen Yi bowed in reply and continued forward, with no intention of further empty praise.

Yet the skinny head monk blocked his path with his men: “This is my junior from the Golden Vajra Sect, nicknamed Zhang Butcher, come from Qingzhou seeking me, and also hoping to secure a post under the County Magistrate.”

Shen Yi nodded in greeting; Zhang Butcher likewise nodded his chin in return.

“I’m on official duty—I’ll not trouble you further.”

After the formalities, Shen Yi stepped forward again, but the skinny head monk shifted slightly, still blocking his way.

“...”

Shen Yi regarded him calmly.

Everyone has their own path; he saw no fault in the skinny head monk taking money for his work. Had he not been born already clad in this uniform, severed from the martial sects, he too would have wished to join a sect, learn martial arts, and be supported by wealthy families.

But if, after taking money, the task was to deliberately make trouble for him, then that was another matter.

“All three of us are devoted to martial study—why not find a place to drink together?”

The skinny head monk chuckled, placing a hand on Shen Yi’s shoulder: “I’m much older than you; I’ll boldly call myself your elder. You’re young, your spirit too fierce—talk with an old man like me, it won’t hurt.”

Even Chen Ji, standing behind, sensed the subtle tension.

Master Lin and the steward remained silent, their eyes dim.

They didn’t truly believe in Shen Yi’s abilities.

But compared to him, they trusted the skinny head monk even less—yet how could merchants dare question such a master before his face?

If the government could intervene at all, it would be good—but now even this was being blocked. Shen Yi was but a lowly clerk; how could he dare defy the County Magistrate’s favorite?

Before all eyes.

Shen Yi fell silent for a moment, then slowly removed the hand on his shoulder, patting it twice: “Thank you for your kindness, Elder, but I’m on official duty today—apologies.”

His action froze the atmosphere instantly.

Embarrassment surged in the skinny head monk’s eyes, followed by faint anger on his aged face.

Zhang Butcher turned his head; beneath his thick beard, a mocking smile curled at his lips.

“If I recall correctly, Sheriff Shen has recently been promoted, overseeing all demonic disturbances in Baiyun County. I said this place holds no demons—just an ordinary murder. What official duty could you possibly have here at the Lin household? Or do you distrust me?”

The skinny head monk’s voice grew colder.

Shen Yi glanced at the steward and said calmly: “Lead the way.”

“Ah... yes...”

How could a mere steward dare meddle in such a conflict? The only thing that stunned him was that a former gambling addict could now remain calm before the skinny head monk.

Even more absurd: the skinny head monk seemed powerless against him.

Had he known this, Master Lin should have gone straight to the government office instead of the County Magistrate’s mansion... useless.

The steward’s thoughts drifted as he hurried toward the side courtyard.

When the three vanished from sight,

Master Lin bowed repeatedly: “Elders, my apologies—Sheriff Shen is merely devoted to duty. Please don’t take offense.”

The skinny head monk’s face darkened; he swept his sleeve and followed.

Zhang Butcher followed close behind, casually asking: “Brother, are you close to him?”

“Never met him. I merely admired his talent, thought we’d both serve under the County Magistrate and should support each other. Never expected him to be a fool without brains.”

“I see. I thought you feared he’d learn we were frightened by demons, and that’d ruin our faces.”

Hearing the hidden meaning, the skinny head monk turned sharply, his face dark. After a long pause, he calmed: “You just came from Qingzhou—you think this is a backwater, so you’re arrogant. I won’t blame you, but remember: the waters here run deeper than you imagine.”

Saying this, he walked on: “You think he’s any different? He’ll soon come out just like us, making some excuse.”

Zhang Butcher fell silent.

As they spoke,

Shen Yi and Chen Ji followed the steward into a side room. The steward slowly lifted the white cloth, revealing the corpse beneath.

At just one glance, Chen Ji’s admiration for the skinny head monk deepened further.

What an astonishing ability to lie with eyes wide open.

On the bed lay the sturdy body of a man, his left arm severed halfway, his abdomen torn open, everything inside hollowed out.

Both eye sockets were empty, his nose gone, his entire right face licked clean down to the bone—not a shred of flesh remained.

“He was perfectly fine yesterday. Just one night.”

The Lin steward closed his eyes, rubbing his face hard, trying to shake off the chill.

He still remembered how proud and imposing Liu Qi had been when he first arrived at the Lin household—now reduced to this.

“No one knows how he died?” Chen Ji frowned.

A martial expert of such stature—even facing demons—how could he die so silently?

“The one who found him wasn’t from the Lin household.”

The steward sighed, wanting to speak but hesitating, glancing back at Shen Yi: “When you brought Miss Bai Wei back, after she recovered, though her temperament didn’t change, her memory was greatly diminished—she couldn’t recall many relatives.”

Here, the steward sneered: “Half a month ago, she said a friend she’d met outside would visit—turns out it was a young man. This shouldn’t have been spoken of—Miss is still a maiden. You two heard it, that’s enough—don’t spread it and ruin her reputation...”

Chen Ji nodded.

The steward continued: “Master felt pity for Miss, and thought having a familiar face might help her memory recover, so he kept the man here. Miss grew very close to him—we treated him as an honored guest.”

“Liu Qi’s corpse was found in his room... and Miss has been away these past few days...”

“The skinny head monk spoke with him and said he had nothing to do with it...”

Hearing this, Shen Yi finally understood their implication.

The Lin family had long suspected someone—they sought the skinny head monk not to find demons, but to eliminate them.

“Where is he?” Chen Ji asked instinctively.

“I’m here.”

A lazy voice came from outside the door.

A young man in black robes leaned against the frame, yawning, his lips red and teeth white, a smile on his face—when he opened his mouth, two sharp canines added a taunting edge.

He raised an eyebrow: “You’re Shen Yi? Why are you so late?”

His tone dripped with condescension; he looked at Shen Yi as if at his own servant.

(End of Chapter)