The Falcon Control Bureau was located within the imperial city, not far from the Privy Council. A narrow alley, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, led to its entrance.

After walking about a hundred paces down this alley, the path split into three. The guide explained, “All three roads lead to the Falcon Control Bureau, but they’re not always accessible.”

He chose the right path without explaining his decision to the group.

The route was lined with buildings on both sides, creating a cramped and oppressive atmosphere. However, upon reaching an arched corridor bridge, the view suddenly opened up.

The terrain here was peculiar. There were no high mountains or deep valleys, but a gentle slope that was barely noticeable unless viewed from a height. In feng shui terms, this raised area was known as a “fish spine” or a “minor dragon vein.”

The corridor bridge seemed to be at the highest point of this “fish spine.” Looking out, one could see the tips of snow-covered roofs rising against the vast night sky. The densely packed buildings, with their ornate eaves and brackets, were arranged at various heights. Some rooftops bore white lanterns, others red, and some had bells that chimed melodiously in the wind.

“Please wait here,” the guide said, producing an introductory letter before leaping down from the bridge.

The atmosphere immediately lightened. Sui Yunzhu asked curiously, “Why are there different things hanging from the rooftops?”

Sheng Changying, who had some knowledge of this, explained, “When shadow agents receive a mission, they hang a red lantern on their rooftop. Upon successful completion, they replace it with a white lantern. If an agent dies in the line of duty, the lantern is removed and replaced with bells.”

“Judging by the sound, there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of bells!” Li Qingzhi exclaimed.

Just then, the guide returned and distributed tokens to everyone. “With these, you can light your lanterns.”

Sheng Changying and Zhu Pianpian didn’t receive tokens.

The guide addressed Sheng, “Someone will come to take you to exchange your official seal, sir. You won’t need to light a lantern.”

This meant Sheng Changying wouldn’t be assigned missions.

Turning to Zhu Pianpian, the guide said, “Master Chu allowed you in. If you can stay in the Octagonal Tower for a day, you may remain here to await his return.”

“And if I can’t?” Zhu Pianpian had no intention of staying in such a place, wondering how much she could earn by risking her life.

“Can’t?” the guide replied coldly. “You have only two options: pass or die.”

Zhu Pianpian silently cursed Chu Dijiang’s ancestors, though she remembered he was originally surnamed Hua, pitying the innocent Chu ancestors who were wrongly blamed.

As they entered the compound, the group was surprised to find it resembled a small town, complete with taverns, teahouses, restaurants, and even storytellers at roadside tea stalls.

“This is much more pleasant than the Falcon Control Academy!” Sun Dixian muttered.

Instructor Di, who had been silent until now, let out a sarcastic snort.

The group inwardly chuckled, realizing that if not for this transfer, they would never have known Instructor Di’s imposing birth name – Gao Dazhuang!

Although he had announced his name change to Gao Yuanxin upon entering the Falcon Control Academy, everyone called him Instructor Di. The name Gao Yuanxin had long been forgotten, and during the transfer of official documents, the name “Gao Dazhuang” was prominently displayed.

Fate, it seemed, was cruel. The more embarrassing one’s situation, the more likely it was for an even more embarrassing past to resurface…

Sensing the group’s amusement, Gao Yuanxin knew exactly what they were thinking, which only added to his frustration.

“This is the Falcon Control Ranking Wall,” the guide said, stopping in front of a massive stone wall. “If your name appears here, you’ll hold at least a sixth-rank position in the Falcon Control Army.”

An Jiu looked at the wall, which was made of white stone polished to a mirror shine. It was adorned with carvings of auspicious clouds and cranes. At the top was a long-bearded elder with an indistinct face, extending his palm. The palm was inscribed with the Eight Trigrams, and in the center were rows of raised areas holding jade tablets with names. The top two positions were occupied by unfamiliar names, with Gu Jinghong ranking third.

The guide explained, “The top two on the list are already second-rank officials in the Falcon Control Bureau and no longer need to light lanterns. Master Gu, in third place, is currently the highest-ranking active member. He achieved this position only in recent years. Given time…”

An Jiu stopped listening, his eyes scanning the list until he finally found Chu Dijiang’s name at the twenty-ninth position.

“Isn’t Master Chu the Divine Martial Commander? Why is he ranked twenty-ninth when his position is higher than Master Gu’s?” Sun Dixian asked.

The guide replied, “Master Chu is one of the few masters who have reached the realm of transcendence. If he were to carry out missions, how could he fail? Just like this time – if not for Master Chu, do you think any of you would have survived against the Misty Mountain Villa? Such experts naturally have more important matters to attend to.”

While this was true, the Falcon Control Army’s rules ranked members based on the number of completed missions. Although the logic was sound, Chu Dijiang hadn’t fully complied with this system, leading some to view him as having strength but lacking experience.

The Falcon Control Ranking Wall only listed the top thirty-nine positions.

This place embodied the principle of “survival of the fittest.” Those with ability ascended the ranks and held high positions, while those without died with their lanterns extinguished, leaving only bells on rooftops and no memory of their existence.

Past the Ranking Wall, the guide led the group to an area of residences. The eaves were adorned with bells that chimed melodiously in the wind, though there was no light.

“There’s a large compound with three courtyards here, along with many smaller, independent courtyards,” the guide explained, standing opposite the group. He began to outline the rules of the place. “The building next to the Ranking Wall is the Lantern-Lighting Tower. You can use your tokens to receive a mission there and take a lantern. Then you’re free to choose any available residence. A word of advice: since you’re a team, it’s best to stay close together.”

He paused before continuing, “While infighting isn’t prohibited in the Falcon Control Army, fights to the death are forbidden. Staying together will allow you to look out for each other. Besides the missions assigned from above, you can individually go to the Lantern-Lighting Tower to take on missions. If you haven’t settled on one within twelve hours, someone will come to take you to face the Life-and-Death Trial.”

“Can we choose missions freely?” Qiu Yunran asked.

“Of course,” the guide replied. “But it’s done by drawing lots.”

Raising his voice, he concluded, “I’ve explained everything to you all. Farewell.”

Watching the guide’s figure disappear swiftly into the night, Sun Dixian couldn’t help but complain, “What’s this? We’ve just arrived and already have to work!”

“Let’s go, or we won’t have a place to stay,” Li Qingzhi said.

“Which one of you is Zhu Pianpian?” A figure in a black robe appeared nearby.

Zhu Pianpian reluctantly stepped forward. Sheng Changying, after much internal debate, finally offered some words of comfort, “Miss Zhu, your skills are profound. Master Chu must have anticipated your success in bringing you here. There’s no need to worry excessively.”