Xuanqing Guard

How do the winds blow atop the Temple Hall? Who is swept off their feet, and who rises with the gusts? None of that relates too directly to Shen Hao—he’s too far away; for now, those currents have yet to reach him.

After sorting and reporting the dossier of the "Prince Shou’s Mansion Murder Case," Shen Hao led his people out of the Imperial City and returned to Fengri City.

Those Qin Family members, one after another, who were locked into the Jingxi Town Governor’s Office now had nothing more to do with Shen Hao. Qin Yurou is not dead yet, but she won’t last much longer; Jiang Cheng will see to it personally when her head comes off.

Still, before Shen Hao left, he was quite certain that the Qin Family would most likely not be dealt with by the Xuanqing Guard. He didn’t overthink it—just simply believed there was no way the Xuanqing Guard would completely break with the civil officials, leaving both sides without a shred of dignity. That would not bode well for any structure in the Dynasty. Even if the Xuanqing Guard and the civil officials lost their minds and became blood enemies, the Emperor would never allow such a thing to happen.

Suppressing each other was fine, but severance was not.

The most profound impression Shen Hao had from this investigation, which he’d been seconded to the Imperial City for, was this: contradiction.

Be it civil servant, military man, or Xuanqing Guard—even the princes were the same. Intermingled, calculating, and weaving together into this massive empire riddled with contradictions yet tightly bound. And the one binding all these contradictions together sits at the apex: Emperor Yang Jian of the Jingjiu Dynasty.

Shen Hao had originally intended to use the token given by that Golden Sword Cultivator who’d invited him for some fun, to head to Fenghong Manor and broaden his horizons. But honestly, he just didn’t have time to linger; he needed someplace quiet and safe to handle an important matter in his cultivation.

Upon returning to Fengri City, Shen Hao discovered the August here was far more unbearable than the Imperial City. The Imperial City’s heat was dry, but here it was humid, like being steamed alive. Sit down for a moment and you felt thoroughly uncomfortable.

Once again, Shen Hao thought of two words: air conditioning.

This time, he didn’t procrastinate. Instead, he used the Thousand-Mile Sound to send his idea for an array to convert hot and cold air to the most suitable person for the task: Flying Dragon.

Given Shen Hao’s understanding of Flying Dragon, that rascal was always full of enthusiasm for making money. Now, Flying Dragon had already made it big—not just relying on the Black Market network, but also running his own legitimate businesses. Granted, the Black Market yielded more profit—less tax, after all.

Of course, none of this could last forever. If you want to be big and legitimate, the Black Market alone wasn’t enough. Shen Hao had pondered this too: now that the Black Market was such a convenient stepping stone, wouldn’t it make sense to gradually infiltrate the visible business world? Was it necessary?

Shen Hao hadn’t figured out those future prospects just yet. For now, his priority was simply to indulge his own desires—get the air conditioning up and enjoy a few days of cool weather. That was the real pressing matter.

After sending off the message, Shen Hao returned to the Thousand Households Station and worked into the evening, finally finishing up the matters that had piled up and truly required his attention. Then he instructed Wang Yiming that he’d be taking a few days’ rest. Anything important should be noted, and only something truly urgent should disturb him at his residence.

Wang Yiming was well accustomed to Shen Hao giving himself rest days after every major case. He harbored no complaints—wasn’t it proper for Lord Shen to rest after working so hard? Miscellaneous chores were his, as deputy, to handle anyway.

Wang Yiming’s enthusiasm sprang from his own ever-rising status in the Xuanqing Guard after following Shen Hao, and also from the increasing respect his family showed him with every trip home. Even those second-generation upstarts from the Imperial City, who once looked down on him, were now sending him letters to reconnect and curry favor.

Where did all these changes come from? Wang Yiming knew perfectly well in his heart.

Wang Yiming had now made up his mind—for better or worse, he’d cling to Lord Shen’s coattails and never let go. Yet he failed to notice that the leg he was latching onto had, over the past few days, become increasingly unstable.

Saying it was "unstable" was an understatement; it was fit to burst.

As Shen Hao himself felt, his whole body was miserable. Every inch of his meridians was crammed with almost compressed True Qi. Any little movement left the meridians sore and swollen. His Sea of Consciousness felt as if something was binding and suppressing it, driving him to break free.

This deep-seated discomfort, inside and out, soured Shen Hao’s mood and left him irritable.

Arriving home, Shen Hao didn’t even bother to change clothes. He went straight into the study, assembled the arrays he’d prepared in advance—defensive, concealing, and alarm formations—then sat down in meditation, adjusted his state, and took a few Elixirs from his Storage Bag, holding them just in case.

This rush of activity from Shen Hao startled Xia Nu and the household servants. In the past, whenever Master Shen came home, he would bathe and have a bowl of sour broth noodles first—what was going on today?

Only in some unnoticed corner did three people truly grasp Shen Hao’s current situation. And precisely because they understood, the three now glanced at one another, each face filled with disbelief.

"He’s about to break through?!"

"I said a few days ago! You didn’t believe me! Now what? That brat can hardly suppress it anymore!"

"Didn’t he just break through, not even half a year ago? Only a few months and again..."

"Ai... I feel as if decades of my own hard cultivation might as well have gone to the dogs. Compared to this Shen fellow, I’m a total waste."

"That may be overly harsh, but damn if it doesn’t make you jealous! This time, isn’t it to Gathering Spirit Realm Seventh Layer? Not yet thirty, and already at the Post-God-Gathering Realm—such talent, in the whole Dynasty, only those Celestial Prides in the great Sects could compare."

"It must’ve been that chance for enlightenment he got on Chang Baifeng. I heard the commotion he raised back then was no small thing. Folks speculate that he won’t face any bottleneck before entering Primordial Pill Realm—otherwise he’d never be this quick."

The three fell silent again. Just the mention of "enlightenment" made them feel even more sour. Comparing people is a deadly thing...

"Better report this."

"Mm, I’ll do the reporting. You two guard the door. Since we’re here, let’s protect the brat’s cultivation. If someone asks, it’s easier to explain."

The trio split up—one took out a Thousand-Mile Sound to report Shen Hao’s special circumstance to the Commander’s Office. The other two took up positions, one at the study’s main door, one at the rear window. Even with several arrays active in the study, they stayed alert, quietly protecting Shen Hao.

Inside the study, Shen Hao had no idea that the Guards the Commander’s Office sent to watch him were now assisting his breakthrough. He sat cross-legged, shortly entering a serene meditative state, then began to circulate his True Qi as before, shaping it into a "spear," making his final preparations for the breakthrough.