Chapter 37

The cell was silent.

Shen Yi awkwardly gripped the brush, and though he was unskilled in calligraphy, he strove to make each character legible.

When his former self was still a thug, he had once been diligent and studious, determined to wear the government office's robes—dabbling in martial arts, social graces, and even reading and writing.

Thanks to muscle memory, his handwriting wasn't pretty, but it was passable.

The Blood Demon Blade Technique had been deduced from the interface, its every detail implanted into his mind, so copying it down was no difficulty.

When the time came to end the day's duties.

Shen Yi stopped writing, let the ink dry, then reached for the food Chen Ji had brought.

Yellow Noodles from Huang's on East Street, plus salted fish sold by the street vendor's cart—nothing delicious, but hearty and practical.

He swallowed the food in a few bites, stood up, stretched his body, and pushed open the door.

In the courtyard, Zhang Dahu was drenched in sweat, grimacing as he performed a warm-up fist form, while the Niu brothers and Chen Ji repeatedly swung their blades; Zhang the Butcher frowned, and whenever their posture slipped, he kicked them.

"Is this how Baoyun County expects to slay demons—with these fancy but useless moves?"

Zhang the Butcher heard the voice, turned around, and frowned: "This is pathetic. Except for that Chen kid, what are the rest of you even doing?"

Before the others could speak, Zhang Dahu cried out: "Who wants to slay demons? Isn't it just because that Liu Dianli is targeting my lord, forcing us to our deaths?"

Hearing this, Zhang the Butcher froze slightly, as if understanding something, then spat on the ground: "These bastards."

He had only learned of Baoyun County's demon problem after arriving, from his senior brother.

Concealing demonic disasters was common everywhere—not unusual at all. Last year alone, over a dozen county magistrates had been beheaded for it.

But using demons to eliminate rivals? They've lost even the last shred of shame.

"Here."

Shen Yi said nothing, handing over the copied blade technique.

He must kill demons to gain enough demonic lifespan—this directly contradicted the government office's plan.

It was only natural for them to use rules to suppress him—or even darker methods.

"So fast?"

Zhang the Butcher was pleasantly surprised, reaching out to take the pages: "What I worked out is merely body cultivation martial arts—among Qingzhou's sects, it's one of the lowest thresholds. With enough time, there's almost no bottleneck."

He tucked the technique into his robe: "Don't be impatient or restless. If you don't understand something, come ask me."

"Thank you."

Shen Yi nodded, took his leave.

He left the cell, carrying the fresh meat and spices Chen Ji had been told to buy.

"He can cook?" Zhang the Butcher scratched his head.

"If you'd seen Lord Shen half a month ago," Chen Ji took a deep breath, still holding his stance, and sighed: "You'd realize someone like him doing anything isn't surprising at all."

"Is that so." Zhang the Butcher didn't argue, only smiled.

After all, it was just a small county—he'd never been to Qingzhou, so how could he know what true genius looked like?

In his eyes, Shen Yi's temperament and strength were both quite good—stronger than him, but only by a little.

…

The sky burned like fire.

Shen Yi knocked on the door, then pushed it open.

The woman lay slumped over the desk, her black hair cascading like a waterfall, her pale, delicate face serene and lovely—only her slightly furrowed brows and trembling, thick eyelashes betrayed a hint of unease.

Shen Yi walked slowly over, noticing the thick stack of yellow paper pinned under her forearm, ink smudged along the edges, some even staining her lips.

He pinched the brush with mild exasperation, pulling the bristles from Lin Baiwei's mouth.

"Mine… don't take it…"

She clenched the brush between her teeth, opened her eyes, and spat: "Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

Then she looked at the papers with distress, quickly gathering them: "I'd already copied half…"

Before she finished speaking, Lin Baiwei noticed what Shen Yi held, and her face lit up with joy.

"You take over here!"

She snatched the fresh meat and turned, dashing into the back courtyard.

"…."

Shen Yi looked at the scattered pages on the desk, carefully gathering and stacking them.

He walked into the back courtyard kitchen.

There, Lin Baiwei had tied her hair, effortlessly drawing water and washing vegetables; without turning, she waved her hand: "Out, out."

Feeling useless, Shen Yi sat down in the courtyard, picked up the axe, and began chopping firewood.

By the time dusk settled, a neat pile of firewood—uniform in length and height—lay on the ground.

The scent of rice and meat intertwined and drifted into his nose.

Shen Yi turned his head and saw the woman standing behind him, delicately lifting a piece of half-fat, half-lean stewed meat with chopsticks, blowing on it gently, her refined cheeks glowing with confidence: "Hey, open up, taste the salt."

As a lone wolf through two lifetimes.

He instinctively leaned back, about to say something—when she swiftly shoved the chopsticks into his mouth: "..."

"How is it?" Lin Baiwei looked at him with eager anticipation.

Not delicious, but unexpectedly good—somewhat like the big-pot dishes of his past life: coarse, yes, but likely excellent with rice.

"It's got something."

Shen Yi dropped the axe, stood up, and moved to fetch the soup.

"Of course it is." Lin Baiwei sniffed, arms crossed behind her like a master chef.

At that moment, a violent pounding on the door rang out.

Bang bang bang!

"Shen, get out here!"

Shen Yi's steps slowed for a beat, his brow furrowing, and he turned to walk outside.

Lin Baiwei's face was full of doubt, but she asked no more questions and quickly headed into the kitchen.

The next moment, five or six constables burst straight through the door.

Two figures stepped through the doorway, one behind the other.

The one in front was a white-haired, white-bearded old man in a blue robe, his face sullen — it was Liu Dianli.

The thin monk behind him stood with his hands at his sides, looking every bit the bystander here to watch a good show.

And outside the door, Chen Ji and the other three were all pinned by constables' blades pressed against their shoulders, struggling as they were shoved up against the wall; Butcher Zhang stood far off at the edge of the street, his face dark, his sea-bowl-sized fists clenched tight.

"The government office trusted you, that's why they gave you this important post, letting you take charge of all demon and monster affairs."

Liu Dianli's face was livid with rage, his finger trembling as he spoke: "In two nights, more than ten children have been abducted from my Boyun County and its three villages and six outskirts — and you were lying comfortably at home. The whole duty squad is a nest of snakes and rats, knowing the truth yet reporting nothing… I treated you like my own nephew, for nothing."

The old man burst out, his voice shrill: "You deserve to die!"

"Our duty squad's courtyard gate was wide open, we never received any word!" Chen Ji panted heavily, arguing loudly in protest.

Whose family loses a child and isn't in a panic? Now that Magistrate Shen is at the height of his fame, how could they possibly not go to him first, and instead go to Liu Dianli?

The answer he got was a crisp slap across the face.

Liu Dianli pulled his hand back: "Still dare to talk your way out."

As he spoke, twenty-odd strapping young men came walking from the end of the street, all carrying bows and crossbows, their clothes different from the constables' — they were actually the city garrison troops.

Liu Dianli turned sideways to look at Shen Yi: "If I can't rid the place of demons and monsters today, I'll take your head!"

(End of chapter)