Mo Sigui’s long fingers swiftly inserted silver needles into over ten acupoints, first protecting his vital areas. Finding a secluded spot, he began analyzing the poison.

Based on his body’s reactions, he could roughly determine the type of poison. To identify the exact formula, he needed to draw blood and conduct various tests.

Half a day passed. Exhausted, Mo Sigui collapsed onto a pile of dead grass. Watching the setting sun, he suddenly thought of An Jiu. She had risked damaging her meridians to fire Jingxian for their promise. Remembering how she had flown to save him that day, he reflected on his choice to help Elder Qi instead…

He didn’t regret it. If faced with the same situation again, he would make the same decision. Yet, he felt uneasy.

Setting aside his familial bond with Elder Qi, this was the first time in his life he felt indebted to someone else. Usually, he was the one bestowing favors.

Mist shrouded the mountains.

Lights illuminated the small courtyard. An Jiu sat on the doorstep, watching Chu Dingjiang cook. His culinary skills were limited, but everything he made tasted decent—at least good enough for someone like An Jiu, who had no particular taste in food.

The stove crackled softly. The orange glow lent warmth to Chu Dingjiang’s cold mask. “Where will you go once you’ve healed?” he asked.

Before An Jiu could answer, he added, “Just to be clear, I’m not responsible for protecting you.”

“‘Protection’ hasn’t applied to me for over a decade,” An Jiu thought silently. Though perhaps Mei Jiu’s final act counted as protection? She smiled bitterly, realizing that despite being an experienced assassin, she always seemed to need someone weaker to shield her at crucial moments.

First her mother, then Mei Jiu.

“I want to join the Crane Control Army,” An Jiu decided. She wanted to find Mei Yanran, unwilling to be indebted to Mei Jiu for life.

“I should warn you: with your meridians destroyed, relying solely on external cultivation puts you at a disadvantage,” Chu Dingjiang said bluntly.

“Mm.” This predicament was entirely of her own making. There was nothing to complain about.

Back then, she had been desperate to get away from Mei Jiu. He had felt like shackles, constantly restraining and tormenting her. Every second with him was agony. But now that they were finally apart, she felt empty inside.

Death had come so suddenly, without any warning.

“What are you thinking about?” Chu Dingjiang was suddenly sitting beside her, poking the ground with his fire poker.

An Jiu was startled. Her spiritual awareness was strong, and her alertness was high. She had never zoned out like this before!

“Nothing,” An Jiu replied.

“I’m returning to the Crane Control Office for duty the day after tomorrow evening,” Chu Dingjiang said, pulling out a token from his robes and placing it in her hand. “This is the Shenwu Token. Take it to the Bianjing government office, and someone will escort you to the Crane Control Academy.”

“Thank you,” An Jiu said.

In the twilight, her delicate features stood out against her pale skin. Her pitch-black eyes stared at him unabashedly.

Chu Dingjiang looked away. “Life in the Crane Control Academy isn’t easier than carrying out missions. Usually, you’re grouped in tens, trained by one master. Every half month, lots are drawn for combat practice. It starts with simple sparring, stopping at first contact to determine the winner. After two months, groups are reshuffled. From then on, battles are to the death. The survivors can choose to join the Yulin, Shenwu, Shence, or Weiyue divisions.”

“You said you didn’t want to protect me. I thought you meant you wouldn’t help at all,” An Jiu said.

Yet he had shared all this information.

“Oh, then you misunderstood,” Chu Dingjiang didn’t consider himself a good person. But as a man, he couldn’t just abandon a young woman right after examining her thoroughly. He couldn’t spare much effort now, but he could at least offer this small gesture. “A word of advice: don’t join the Yulin Army.”

“Why not?” An Jiu asked, confused.

Chu Dingjiang leaned in, smiling, “His Majesty believes in Taoism and dual cultivation to advance his practice, especially with martial arts-trained women. The Crane Control Yulin Army is responsible for protecting His Majesty around the clock, so… the women in the Yulin Army have this additional duty.”

An Jiu nodded. “I see.”

Her lack of reaction to such a secret intrigued Chu Dingjiang. He wondered what could shake her composure.

“How high is the rank of Shenwu Commander in the Crane Control Army?” An Jiu asked.

“Fourth-rank military official,” Chu Dingjiang answered, using his fire poker to draw a simple diagram on the ground. “The Crane Control Army’s office is called the Crane Control Bureau. The person in charge is the Dark Commander-in-Chief, a正二品 rank. Below are two deputy officials, 从二品 rank, called Dark Deputy Commanders-in-Chief. Then there are four Dark Bureau Chiefs, 正三品 rank, and eight Dark Bureau Directors, 从三品 rank. These people are the core of the Crane Control Bureau…”

The Crane Control Army is divided into four branches: Yulin, Shenwu, Shence, and Weiyue. The leaders of each branch have similar titles to those in the main bureau, prefixed with their branch name. They have command authority but no power to deploy troops or make decisions, nor do they receive the usual benefits of regular military officials. So Chu Dingjiang, as a fourth-rank official, held a position that was neither particularly low nor high.

“There’s also an Inspectorate, with two Crane Control Army Censors and underneath them the Yulin, Shenwu, Shence, and Weiyue Commanders,” Chu Dingjiang explained.

An Jiu suddenly understood. “So you were originally from the Inspectorate.”

Transferring from the Inspectorate was like placing a hawk among cranes. Who wouldn’t be on edge, fearing their eyes might be pecked out at any moment? Seen this way, Chu Dingjiang’s ability to form alliances among a group of misfits was truly remarkable.

“That’s right.”

“What rank have you been demoted to now?” An Jiu asked.

Chu Dingjiang replied nonchalantly, “Shenwu Bureau Chief, fifth rank.”

Demoted two ranks, even lower than that of Shence Deputy Commander. Thinking of him, An Jiu recalled that fleeting glimpse and his words, frowning, “Who is the Shence Deputy Commander?”

“Gu Jinghong?” There were two Shence Deputy Commanders, but Gu Jinghong had briefly led the Mei family, so Chu Dingjiang guessed An Jiu meant him. “I don’t know him well, just that he’s efficient.”

Chu Dingjiang admired Gu Jinghong internally. His rise to Shenwu Commander had been six parts scheming, two parts luck, and two parts ability. Gu Jinghong, however, had risen through the ranks of the Crane Control Army purely through successful mission completions.

Chu Dingjiang mused, “Steady progress is good, but not everyone is a martial arts prodigy. Life is short, just a few decades. If you want to achieve great things, you can’t afford to waste even a moment.”

“Assassinate those old fogies in the Crane Control Bureau,” An Jiu sincerely suggested, hoping to repay Chu Dingjiang for saving her life.