Chapter 28: Yin Seventh Master

Upon hearing this, the Lin family steward’s heart turned cold.

It was one thing for the county magistrate’s hired expert to know Shen Yi—it was another for the young lady’s outsider companion to recognize him too.

They’re all acquainted; what’s the point of hunting demons? Don’t gang up and eat the Lin family alive.

On the other side, Chen Ji’s expression darkened slightly.

If he had only suspected the black-clad youth to be seven or eight tenths likely a demon, that single sentence confirmed it beyond doubt: the man was a demon, merely wearing human skin.

The reason was simple.

The tone of his voice… Chen Ji knew it too well; it stirred up unpleasant memories.

Over the past few years, nearly every demon who entered the city spoke to Shen Yi this way—then proceeded to hunt fresh meat for them or snatch girls from households.

Thinking of this, he instinctively glanced beside him.

Shen Yi’s face revealed no emotion; he showed no sign of being offended by the black-clad youth’s words.

He stood with hands hanging at his sides, quietly watching Liu Qi’s corpse, then said: “Everyone, step outside.”

At these words, the Lin steward wanted to slap himself—why the hell had he brought this person back? Wasn’t the situation chaotic enough already?

The outsiders outside might believe the rumors, but after all these years serving the Lin family, how could he still be so foolish?

Look at the government office—was it a demon-hunting bureau?

The fat steward shuffled out, dejected. Chen Ji remained silent, casting another glance at Shen Yi, confirming he wasn’t deliberately lowering the demon’s guard to let Chen Ji strike the black-clad youth as he passed.

He sighed and bowed: “Your servant takes his leave.”

The two stepped out of the side room just as the two thin monks had also halted ahead, having witnessed the steward’s furious expression; the thin monk’s face finally brightened somewhat.

“I told you—still just a youth, too full of himself! Got a bit of fortune, lost all sense of self, must humiliate himself before he’ll calm down.”

“Which of us hasn’t had a stroke of fortune? Which of us isn’t a genius? Who else is as ungrateful as he is?”

“A fool is a fool—worthless wood, unfit for carving!”

Listening to his brother’s endless sneers, the butcher squatted down listlessly, plucked a blade of green grass, and slipped back into his former gloom.

The mockery seeped into Chen Ji’s ears; he stared coldly, suddenly realizing these so-called Jianghu elders were nothing like he’d imagined—indeed, they made him sick.

Even if Shen my lord was mediocre, he went alone to Liuli Temple Village and slew thirteen demon corpses, earning only two taels and four mace in salary.

This man has been in Baiyun County for days now, yet never lifted a finger. At his age, still a gossip, petty and mean—does he really deserve six hundred taels a month?

“Little brat, what are you staring at?”

As if sensing something, the thin monk turned his head; his gaze was icy and sinister.

He could tolerate Shen Yi, for the man was also a beginner martial cultivator who had transcended—but when had a mere constable dared look at him like that?

His ink-black long robe stirred without wind; his bony hand slid from the sleeve, fingers curled into an eagle’s claw.

A surging aura instantly engulfed the other.

Chen Ji’s face turned ashen; his teeth clenched tight.

Normally, he knew the value of restraint—he’d never dare meet the man’s gaze, would bow his head and apologize to let it pass.

But now, a nameless flame surged in his chest.

His hand tightened on the hilt; the silver blade flashed free, catching everyone’s eyes.

“When did government investigations become your business, you Jianghu martialist?”

“Shen Captain serves the empire—what are you, to chatter here? Shut your mouth!”

At these words, the thin monk froze as if struck by lightning, standing speechless for a long while before muttering numbly: “Good… good… using the empire to silence old man…”

The Lin steward trembled, his legs shaking, instinctively clenching them shut.

These sect members hated most of all being suppressed by the Demon Suppression Bureau. Though the thin monk seemed to have calmed, his words now carried a hint of killing intent.

This little constable will shed his uniform one day… does he think Shen Yi can protect him?

Only the butcher, squatting on the ground, paused briefly, spat out the grass, and opened his mouth in a silent laugh.

His gaze, turned toward the door, held a new curiosity.

Interesting, interesting—he never drew his blade against demons, yet drew it on his superior for two words, and dared to unsheathe before a beginner martialist. What kind of man commands such authority before his subordinates?

…

Compared to the clamor outside, the side room felt strangely calm.

The black-clad youth lazily shook his wrist, walked to Liu Qi’s corpse, and with visible disgust, tore off the remaining half-arm, chewing it voraciously.

“I thought I’d have to waste more words—but it’s you. Saved me the patience. No need to be polite—I know the rules. Call me Seventh Master from now on.”

Shen Yi watched the demon eat, his eyes devoid of sorrow or joy.

In just a few days, he’d seen too many similar scenes.

The only ripple in his heart came from knowing Liu Qi was a martial practitioner—and this was the fate of those who couldn’t stand against demons.

“Not that Seventh Master is blaming you, but she told me herself: if you need anything, come to him. I waited so long, you never came—so I had to act myself.”

The black-clad youth grew irritated: “Come every three days from now, heard? Don’t complain—it won’t be long before I leave.”

Shen Yi had dismissed the others for one question: “Where is she?”

“What, does Seventh Master’s word mean nothing? Must she tell you herself?” Yin Seventh Master swallowed a mouthful of flesh, frowned tightly, and stepped toward him.

He stared up at Shen Yi, wiped meat residue from his lips, and snapped: “She’s been out playing too long—went back to North Cliff to see her mother. She’ll be back in two days. If you starve Seventh Master’s belly, I’ll deal with you myself, no need for her.”

At that moment, Yin Seventh Master noticed Shen Yi’s brows had slightly furrowed—as if disappointed, more precisely, like when he was a child digging into a rabbit hole, expecting a whole nest, only to pull out one lone rabbit.

The next instant, the other lowered his gaze.

A chill slowly rose in those eyes.

For no reason, Yin Seventh Master suddenly felt his heart pound violently, his muscles tensing—his body’s instinctive terror at impending danger.

Since entering the beginner realm, he had never felt this again.

“….”

Chen Ji’s face was numb; he gripped his blade tightly.

The thin monk stood motionless across from him; the Lin steward was caught between them, face twisted in terror, desperate to flee.

Suddenly, a thunderous crack echoed through the courtyard!

CRACK!

The thick redwood door exploded into splinters; a black figure flew backward, spewing a spray of crimson.

Carried by immense force, he slammed into the blue stone floor, shattering it, rolling several times before the impact fully dissipated.

The butcher rose slowly; the Lin steward cried out and crouched, clutching his head.

The thin monk shuddered and turned; Chen Ji stood frozen, sword in hand; all stared at the doorway.

Behind the shattered door…

Shen Yi adjusted his sleeve, expression indifferent, stepping out with calm composure.

(End of Chapter)