“Quick! Quick! Quick!” In the great storehouse, Luo Moshi jumped and shouted like a supervising sergeant. He reached out and smacked one of his subordinates on the head, barking, “Is the Yunnan chieftain’s account ready or not!”

“Ready! Ready!” The subordinate answered in panic and haste, quickly setting down his brush. Instead of bringing food, he delivered an account book. Seeing that the ink was still wet and foggy, Luo Moshi hurriedly flipped open the inner pages and blew on them urgently. Seeing the crowd standing motionless around him, he immediately roared angrily, “Go arrange the books properly! The Grand Manager will come for inspection soon!”

After bustling about for half the day, footsteps sounded in the distance—the superior had arrived. Luo Moshi hurriedly threw the book to his subordinate and rushed to guard the storehouse entrance. Though the weather was cold, he was still covered in cold sweat, fearing he might delay the deadline—that would be big trouble indeed.

Tap tap… After a very long time, there came the light sound of footsteps… tap tap… tap tap…

Listening carefully, the footsteps stopped, but a cool sensation came from the top of his bald head. Luo Moshi looked up to see a jade-white palm gently touching his forehead, tapping lightly on his bald head.

“Is anyone home?” An elegant voice rang out. Luo Moshi quickly straightened up and said with a forced smile, “At home, at home.”

The Soul-Reaping Judge had arrived. He was handsome yet sinister, brilliant and godlike yet like a ghost that wouldn’t depart. He was the number one premium freak in the world—everyone called him… “Grand Manager”!

Ten years since the Zhengtong restoration, while others had aged, this man remained heaven’s beloved favorite. While others’ years had turned their hair white, carved wrinkles line by line in chaotic fashion, heaven had only bestowed upon the Grand Manager a short mustache resting on his jade-like ruddy lips.

The beautiful short mustache, trimmed appropriately, had always belonged to important figures. Jiang Chong had worn one, Zhuo Lingzhao had grown one—each generation produces talented men, and now it was this fellow’s turn. Watching him gently stroke the mustache on his lips made him appear more steady, more shrewd, more powerful and high-ranking, and more like a great demon lord… the combination of Jiang Chong and Zhuo Lingzhao…

“Reporting to the Great Demo… Gra… Grand Manager!” Luo Moshi bowed with cupped hands, nearly misspeaking. He pressed his hands tightly against his trouser seams and answered loudly, “All account books from provincial chieftains and prefectural county offices are properly arranged! Please inspect them, Grand Manager!”

Early this morning before dawn, the thirty-six-year-old “Grand Manager” was in high spirits, coming to inspect the storehouse bright and early.

The Grand Manager walked with light, measured steps to a stack of books. He raised his jade-white finger and pointed at the account book before him, asking, “Northern Zhili?” Luo Moshi answered nervously, “Um… yes… oh… no…” He summoned all his life’s strength to lift a stack of ledgers eight feet high, swaying precariously, and set it down thunderously beside the Grand Manager’s feet, panting, “There are also these… Northern Zhili has many offices—the Six Ministries and Five Courts, inner palace and outer court—together they make up Northern Zhili.”

Every year at this time, Luo Moshi had to accompany the Grand Manager in inspecting those mountain-high stacks of account books. There was no help for it—Luo Moshi was in charge of the treasury. He was the inn’s Sixth Manager, specifically responsible for accounts.

So-called account management was no laughing matter of idle duty, but real detailed bookkeeping. Stacked sky-high and spread across the four directions, from Duogan in the west to Ryukyu in the east, from the Jianzhou Jurchens in the north to the three chieftains of Sichuan, Yunnan, and Guizhou in the south—all the nation’s accounts were examined here. Since the Song Dynasty produced the “Divine Ancestor’s Accounting Records,” this system of examination and recording had been passed down continuously. Meeting someone as shrewd as a ghost like the “Grand Manager,” he absolutely loved it.

Luo Moshi’s mouth kept babbling, venting the ill fortune accumulated from a sleepless night, while the Grand Manager was refreshed and clear-headed. Inspecting along the way, he saw account books from Shandong, Jiangxi, Henan, and Hubei arranged on the ground like a sea of mountains. He patted Luo Moshi’s shoulder and smiled, “You’ve worked hard, Sixth Manager. Worthy of your Western Region origins—truly skilled in mathematics.” Luo Moshi bowed his hands in thanks, “Thank you for the Grand Manager’s praise. It’s merely my duty.” The Grand Manager smiled slightly, noncommittally. He walked to the mountain-like account books, casually flipped through them, and asked, “Where are the military accounts?” Luo Moshi hurriedly retrieved a thin booklet and presented it to the Grand Manager.

Whether it was the Five Assistants or Six Ministries, every government office submitted thick stacks of account books, but the military was different—every year they sent such thin ledgers. The “Five Military Grand Commanders” were most capable—in that thin little booklet, they could always record the provisions and wages for a million soldiers, clean and neat, most refreshing. While he was smiling obsequiously, he suddenly heard the Grand Manager cough lightly and say in a low voice, “Bring the abacus. I want to check the accounts.” Luo Moshi was well-prepared and immediately took out a rosewood abacus from his chest, along with a vermillion brush, and handed them both to the Grand Manager.

Click clack click, clack click clack—the Grand Manager sat down, one hand on the abacus, one hand with the brush, and began checking and cross-referencing between pointing and reviewing.

His jade-white fingers moved like lightning. The mere nineteen pages of accounts flew by like smoke. In the eyes of the Grand Manager, who could read ten lines at a glance, nineteen pages equaled half a page for ordinary people. The crowd of accountants were full of admiration, all watching the Grand Manager’s methods, exclaiming in amazement.

Every time he witnessed the Grand Manager calculating accounts, Luo Moshi inevitably wondered: Is this person still a scholar?

Scholar-born, from the imperial examinations, they all could compose poetry and couplets. The Grand Manager had passed the jinshi examination and should have read the Four Books and Five Classics, but Luo Moshi had never seen him compose poetry—only seen him keep accounts. Every time he saw him holding a vermillion brush in one hand while his other hand flashed like lightning on the abacus, Luo Moshi would wonder: Is this person still considered a Confucian scholar? Or rather, is he still considered an “important person”?

The Grand Manager loved accounting. In the past, Grand Secretary Jiang was also skilled in this area, but he wouldn’t do it personally. The Grand Manager was different—he loved bookkeeping, loved accounting. When encountering such important matters related to governance and discipline, he never delegated to others. He trusted no one.

Perhaps… this was why Grand Secretary Jiang lost to the Grand Manager. And Luo Moshi had paid his price too. In these ten years of nightly candlelit record-keeping, not only had his eyesight been exhausted, but even his “Netherworld Dark Finger” had returned to the netherworld. Previously he could poke through a brick, but now besides false accounts, he truly didn’t know what else he could poke through.

A defeated general—what courage is there to speak of? The only consolation was having more children. The day Grand Secretary Jiang died, Luo Moshi saw through the world of mortals and decided to return to secular life.

Becoming increasingly secular, Luo Moshi was thinking about his personal matters when the Grand Manager had finished checking the accounts. He turned to the last page, revealing neat and uniform numbers reading “nine million five hundred thousand taels of silver.”

Not a single odd fraction or mess—the Nine Hundred Five Grand Commander was worthy of being this dynasty’s number one rebel minister. The beautiful numbers showed strict military discipline. Based on deep friendship and to protect the “Grand Manager’s” eyesight, he had submitted this gossamer-thin booklet.

Thinking of these eight words “brief letter, long affection, deep righteousness,” Luo Moshi felt even more admiration in his heart.

The Grand Manager beckoned and asked, “This number is correct?” Luo Moshi smiled dryly, “Correct. This humble one has added it up.” The Grand Manager supported his forehead with his hand and asked gravely, “Where are the cancellation authorization documents?” Luo Moshi replied, “The staff said they were all lost.”

The Grand Manager nodded and asked in a low voice, “What about the duplicate receipts?” Luo Moshi answered, “They were burned by the Nucang bandits.”

Slap—the account book sent by the Grand Commander flew into the air and landed on the small mountain. The Grand Manager said nothing and sank back into his customary accounting grand preceptor’s chair. Supporting his cheek with his hand, he looked somewhat like he was dozing, somewhat like he was deep in thought. Luo Moshi stood beside him and asked, “Grand Manager, do you want to look at other offices’ accounts?”

The jade-white finger waved—the Grand Manager was in no hurry, and Luo Moshi also breathed a sigh of relief.

Account books thick enough to crush a person to death—even with the Grand Manager’s ability to read ten lines at a glance, he still had to take up the icy abacus in the cold winter nights, calculating from New Year’s Eve all the way to Lantern Festival night… Even with red eyes, dizziness, and anger enough to bring out his legendary “Six Paths of Reincarnation,” he could only hack the account books to pieces but still couldn’t find the tricks hidden within the prefectural and county offices. Thinking of this, Master Luo Moshi suddenly felt somewhat fortunate—he was merely a small Sixth Accountant, not some Grand Manager.

On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, snow fluttered outside the window while inside it was quietly silent. Only the “Grand Manager” could be seen gently supporting his delicate chin, as if resting with closed eyes. Luo Moshi stood guard beside him but couldn’t help yawning repeatedly. After two months of mental exhaustion plus last night’s sleeplessness, he too wanted to go home and sleep early.

Tomorrow would be New Year’s Eve—if the Grand Manager slept here, no one could go home. All the subordinates were urgently hoping he would wake up soon and leave early.

Just as he was thinking of ways to wake him, suddenly there came knocking sounds as the storehouse opened. Looking back, a masked person entered with a bow—one of the inn’s intelligence agents. Seeing him carrying classified documents, there must be some urgent official business to report. Luo Moshi was delighted and was about to reach out to receive the document when the agent shook his head and pointed directly at the sealed portion of the document.

His finger fell on something round. Luo Moshi looked down and saw a dragon-shaped emblem.

“Four-Clawed Golden Dragon Seal”—this was a message from the military.

The inn had hierarchical levels. The Grand Manager commanded all things under heaven—no matter how big or small, official business was not classified to him. The other six accountants were not subordinate to each other, each having their own responsibilities, but classified documents could not be read at will. Luo Moshi knew his position was far below the Second Manager, so he quickly stepped back and smiled dryly. The agent held up the classified document, knelt beside his feet, and whispered, “Reporting to Grand Manager, military intelligence from Xiangyang City.”

At this time, the Nucang bandits were fighting with full force, killing their way from Jingzhou toward Xiangyang. Now that urgent classified documents had arrived, the battle results must be decided. Everyone heard that urgent military intelligence had arrived and held their breath, all becoming quiet.

The Grand Manager seemed drowsy with sleep. Only when the agent repeated his words a second time did he open his eyes and accept the document.

The treasury fell completely silent, all waiting for the “Grand Manager” to open the seal and give instructions. He glanced at the “Four-Clawed Golden Dragon Seal” but didn’t open it, didn’t read it, didn’t give instructions—just threw it directly onto the pile of documents. By coincidence, it happened to land right on top of the account book sent by the Grand Commander.

Since it was sent by carrier pigeon, the military intelligence must be extremely urgent, yet the Grand Manager actually didn’t look, didn’t approve, didn’t pay attention? Everyone looked at the document pile as high as a small mountain and felt dumbstruck. The agent dared not say more and could only kowtow three times before leaving.

The footsteps gradually faded as the agent left. The Grand Manager closed his eyes to rest again, his breathing deep—he had actually fallen asleep again. The storehouse was frighteningly quiet. Luo Moshi and his subordinates looked at each other but didn’t know what to do.

Just as he was thinking of finding a chance to escape to urinate, suddenly footsteps sounded again—someone else was coming. Everyone looked back to see it was that masked agent again. Luo Moshi didn’t know why this person had returned and frowned, asking, “Didn’t you just deliver documents? Why are you back again?” The black-clothed person was slightly stunned and asked strangely, “Back again? When did I come before?”

Luo Moshi’s face reddened. The previous agent had a northwestern accent, but this person had a Jiangnan voice. This black was not that black—this masked person was not the black dog from before but a black cat. Luo Moshi muttered and was about to receive the document when the agent wouldn’t give it to him, only extending his finger to point at the sealed portion again.

The wax seal was square, indicating its origin—this was the Fourth Manager’s “Golden Finger Ring.” Luo Moshi was greatly shocked and quickly stepped aside. The agent knelt on one knee and presented the document to the Grand Manager.

Luo Moshi felt nervous. The Fourth Manager’s responsibilities were grave—this trip south to escort that ghostly thing, the battle situation must be dangerous. “Demon Blade, Brave Sword, Holy Light”—for that blade, the court had spent millions of taels of silver over ten years. Now if Jin Lingshuang had any unfortunate news to send back, it would surely be earth-shaking news. Luo Moshi secretly worried—he and Jin Lingshuang were old acquaintances. Though they had no particular friendship, the old generals of the previous dynasty died one by one, and he couldn’t help feeling sorry for them. It was almost New Year again—he only hoped things would be settled cleanly without causing trouble.

The jade-white finger accepted the envelope. The Grand Manager raised his hand to look, and seeing it was a document from the Fourth Manager, once again he didn’t open it, didn’t read it, didn’t give instructions—just threw the envelope onto the document pile.

It’s going to collapse… Luo Moshi looked at the sky-high pile of documents and account books and felt horrified. The Grand Manager’s behavior was unfathomable—as if he wanted to see how high the documents could be piled up, stubbornly ignoring them. Luo Moshi swallowed and was about to speak inquiringly when he suddenly closed his mouth.

Never mind… this person was the “Grand Manager”… even Grand Secretary Jiang was defeated by him, so what was there for himself to fear?

The Grand Manager was meticulous throughout his life and never made mistakes. Unlike Grand Secretary Jiang with his storytelling and jokes, the Grand Manager spoke little, but once he opened his mouth, everyone above and below obeyed strictly. One move from him amazed everyone. Compared to the previous dynasty’s factory guards, the “Nation-Stabilizing Iron Guards,” he was cleaner, more honest, more silent as cicadas, and more absolutely obedient.

Absolutely obedient meant not thinking wild thoughts. With Zhuge Liang as the boss, why not be a fool oneself? Even if the “Grand Manager” took off his pants to fart or put on pants to defecate, everyone shouldn’t ask a single question. Because “those above,” no matter what they did, had some great principles involved—it was just that this idiot couldn’t figure them out!

With Jiang Chong above, the entire court became like An’dao Jing—having mouths but no hands. With the Grand Manager commanding the court, there were more people like Jin Teng—having hands but no brains.

In short—hell has eighteen levels total, and everyone hasn’t finished touring them yet!

While pretending to be mute, the “Grand Manager” yawned lightly and finally stood up, apparently wanting to leave. Luo Moshi was overjoyed, knowing he could go home for a hot bath. He hunched over and called loudly, “Respectfully seeing off the Gra…”

Before he could finish saying “Manager,” the jade-onion-white finger beckoned, indicating he should follow. Luo Moshi cursed silently but had to follow along. Behind him, his subordinates drew out their voices long and slow, seeing him off all the way out.

Coming outside, cold wind gusted, bringing coolness that drilled straight up through his trouser legs, making him shiver and stumble. He saw the sedan chair already waiting in front of the treasury. These four sedan bearers looked ordinary but were actually all skilled in martial arts—all good hands carefully selected by Jin Lingshuang. Luo Moshi stole a glance at the rooftop and indeed saw another black shadow—that was the “Six Ding Six Jia,” also death warriors who served as the Grand Manager’s personal bodyguards.

The “Grand Manager” was in good spirits today, walking directly past the sedan without getting in. Seeing the Grand Manager not entering the sedan, Luo Moshi forced a smile and said, “Grand Manager, you… where are you going now?” The Grand Manager glanced at Luo Moshi and said lightly, “We’re going to welcome someone.”

When equals send off and welcome each other, it’s called farewell and reception. Only from below to above can the word “welcome” be used. Luo Moshi was slightly puzzled, not knowing what person the “Grand Manager,” being the fifth assistant minister of the dynasty with prominent official rank, needed to welcome. Luo Moshi coughed, thinking of his family still waiting for him to come home for New Year, and boldly said in a low voice, “Grand Manager, this humble one is old and aged, unsightly in appearance—it’s better not to go.”

Ten years had passed, and Luo Moshi’s skin was loose and flabby, his figure portly. Looking at him, he had gained two heavy bags under his eyes, but his head stubbornly wouldn’t grow hair. He looked both bald and ugly, indeed unsightly. Just as he was waiting to bow and take leave, the Grand Manager shook his head and said, “Don’t go. You know this important person—you can help later.” Luo Moshi became more puzzled, not knowing that with Jiang Chong dead and the tree fallen with scattered monkeys, what big shot could he still know? He quietly asked, “I know him? Who is he?” The Grand Manager replied calmly, “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman.”

The superior was being mysterious, and Luo Moshi couldn’t help being shocked again. Among figures with “Nation” in their title, he only knew the murderous “Nation-Stabilizing Iron Guards”—where would he know any “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman”? Thinking he had misheard, he couldn’t help digging in his ear, full of confusion.

During New Year, there’s definitely no good news. Luo Moshi frowned miserably, cursing silently in his heart, and could only follow along.

The cold wind blew, and Luo Moshi walked on thin ice, only following step by step. Just as he was afraid of stepping on the Grand Manager’s heel, he suddenly noticed passersby staring fixedly in their direction. Luo Moshi secretly wondered, “What’s wrong? Did someone recognize our identities?”

The Nation-Stabilizing Iron Guards acted discreetly and rarely showed their faces. Today the Grand Manager didn’t need to attend court and wore casual clothes, while he himself wore ordinary cloth robes. How could people on the street recognize them both?

Concentrating to look back, just as he was trying to find the reason, he suddenly saw a young girl looking toward him with a completely flushed face, her cheeks red as if on fire. Luo Moshi frowned slightly, thinking, “Is the weather too cold with evil winds spreading everywhere?” He was too lazy to care and looked aside again, immediately seeing a young woman who lowered her head but kept stealing glances at him from the corner of her eyes. Her cheeks were also bright red, as if she had been slapped twice.

Luo Moshi, coming from a monastic background, was greatly surprised. Just as he was puzzled, he suddenly saw old women and grandmothers by the roadside with bright eyes all looking toward him. Luo Moshi was a man in his sixties—how could he suddenly become attractive to flowers and attract so many women’s gazes in his old age?

Suddenly seeing this strange situation, he hurriedly touched his bald head, afraid some insect had landed on it. Strangely, his head was smooth as usual, and looking at his pants, they were also properly tied at the waist, not exposed.

He stood dazed for a long moment, his steps slowing down. Just then, he saw the old women and young girls’ gazes turn and move on, all following the “Grand Manager.” Luo Moshi exclaimed and understood the reason.

Without doubt, they weren’t looking at his old, bald self, but at the handsome man in front of him.

Lions, tigers, eagles, and falcons—the more fierce things in the world are, the more colorful and brilliant they are. The handsome Grand Manager carried himself with confident ease, composed and steady, truly displaying the demeanor of a first-class powerful minister. Looking at his jade-snow skin and bright eyes, even though he wore casual clothes today—a precious blue long robe—he was still so dazzling, winning the gazes of all the beauties on the street.

“Using the tiger’s might…” Luo Moshi smiled. He rarely went out with the “Grand Manager” and didn’t know such strange things would happen. No wonder that old thief Jin Lingshuang always followed him—he must have secretly enjoyed quite a few benefits along the way. Luo Moshi smiled slightly, then thought of the Grand Manager’s romantic history, and the three words “Scholar’s Forest Study” floated before his eyes.

The Grand Manager was a remarkable man. Though he held high position and great power, he was very devoted to women. If he didn’t love girls, that would be fine, but once he truly cared, he would love passionately, known throughout the nation. Also because of this strange nature, he had received endless scolding from the Emperor for the “Scholar’s Forest Study” affair, but also because of that bowl of soy milk at the door of Scholar’s Forest Study, women throughout the world secretly admired the Grand Manager, all knowing he was an infatuated man.

Infatuated men love their wives most. Because of that heart-piercing, bone-engraving love for “Scholar’s Forest Study,” the Grand Manager had never taken concubines these past years. No matter who came to arrange matches, he politely declined them all. All the civil and military officials understood his attachment to his beloved wife and admired him completely. The famous young ladies of Beijing, hearing of this, loved him even more—everyone respected him as “Benevolent and Righteous Grand Secretary Yang.”

“Bullshit…” Luo Moshi muttered to himself, kicking aside a small stone by the roadside.

Which man doesn’t love beauty? It’s just a matter of being bold or timid. Before marriage, the Grand Manager was called “Romantic Division Secretary,” graceful and elegant, truly a genuine romantic libertine. Such people spoke honeyed words—how could taking a few concubines make his wife quarrel with him?

Quarreling at the head of the bed, making up at the foot—when the time came, bringing out ten or eight grand reasons for country and people, wouldn’t everything be harmonious? This person also had one set of rules in public and another in private. The inn’s staff had generated rumors, all saying the reason he didn’t take concubines was purely because he already had a secret mistress, which stopped his itch.

It was said this mistress was no ordinary person—though beautiful, she was extremely jealous. Though she wanted to marry the Grand Manager wholeheartedly, she was afraid of causing a great uproar and could only reluctantly endure being the lesser woman. A wife is not as good as a concubine, a concubine not as good as a mistress, a mistress not as good as one you can’t have—it was said this mistress also had a husband with high martial arts skills, able to smash Chongwen Gate with one punch. Thinking of this, Luo Moshi suddenly awakened and thought, “Ah! This Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman, could it be…”

The four words “secret mistress” flew into his heart, frightening Luo Moshi so much he recited “Amitabha Buddha” ten times.

The more secret something is, the less it can be seen. This “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman” was most likely his secret mistress. If he accidentally witnessed bedroom scandals, how could these old eyes be used for accounting? Even if the Grand Manager didn’t blind him, that mistress would probably gouge them out. Luo Moshi cursed his bad luck in his heart—if he had known, he would rather go to Jiangnan to escort the Karmic Fire Demon Blade, which would cause less trouble.

Under the lingering gazes of beautiful women on the street, the Grand Manager walked gracefully with smiles along the way. All the beauties, seeing his gaze, turned their heads away, but after he passed, they all turned back to look. Seeing the girls’ melancholy feelings, Luo Moshi wanted to bang his head against a wall, preferably fainting on the ground so he wouldn’t have to see that “Secret Heavenly Woman.”

Just as he was thinking of finding a wall to crash into, suddenly the Grand Manager’s robe sleeve fluttered lightly as he stopped. Luo Moshi quickly stopped and stood beside him, following the Grand Manager’s gaze to see a government office in the distance—it was the court’s Imperial Medical Academy.

The Imperial Medical Academy could cure all diseases, but the Grand Manager practiced mysterious arts and was immune to all poisons—why would he come here? Was he here to get medicine or visit friends? Thinking of “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman,” the word “pregnant” suddenly flew before his eyes, frightening Luo Moshi into a cold sweat.

Just as he was afraid, he suddenly saw several bailiffs carrying wooden ladders, installing a plaque at the entrance. A few days ago, there had been fighting in the Imperial Medical Academy. It was said a black-clothed person jumped up on the spot and actually kicked through the plaque in one move—they must be repairing it now. Though Luo Moshi knew about this incident, he had no mind to pay attention now, only continuously coughing with his head down.

“Good child…” the Grand Manager said faintly. Hearing the words “child,” Luo Moshi was greatly alarmed: “Indeed there is one!” Just as he was panicking, he heard the Grand Manager continue, “First defeating Zhe’er Dan, then frustrating the Three Reaching Swords—at his age, I certainly didn’t have such skill. Remarkable, remarkable.”

The ox head didn’t match the horse mouth—he was talking about another matter entirely. Luo Moshi, being the Sixth Manager, had also heard of the “Dragon Shadow Prince” legend. He smiled dryly a few times and kept his head down without saying a word. The Grand Manager suddenly said, “What’s wrong with you? You’re covered in cold sweat?”

Luo Moshi gathered his courage and put his palms together, saying, “A fetus can be kept safe but cannot be aborted. Heaven has virtue in giving life—no matter who the birth mother is, the father is the same person.” The Grand Manager, hearing these strange words, just stared at Luo Moshi with eyes full of confusion. After looking for a long while, he shook his head and turned to leave. Luo Moshi smiled dryly a few times and could only hurry to follow.

Coming to Guang’an Gate Street, passing by a pond, the Grand Manager suddenly stopped, his gaze turning toward the pond. Luo Moshi followed his gaze and saw white snow piled up at the bottom of the pond, but the water had long since dried up.

The colder winter gets, the drier summer becomes. Luo Moshi looked at account books every year, so he naturally knew the nation’s grain harvest by heart. He looked at the Grand Manager’s back and couldn’t help but smile bitterly a few times. No matter how shrewd and capable this person was, he still had to depend on heaven for sustenance. Now that heaven had posed a difficult problem, he probably had no solution either. Just as he was thinking of asking, the Grand Manager gazed at the dried pond and suddenly said, “Little fish…”

“Little fish?” Every word from the Grand Manager had deep meaning. Hearing this, Luo Moshi’s heart trembled as he thought, “Fish? Is it Yu or Yu? What does this mean?” Being well-read, he immediately thought of the Yu and Yu surnames in the court, speculating who had committed rebellion, when he suddenly heard the Grand Manager recite in a low voice…

Little fish passes through the hook, West River Moon accompanies the night boat, leisurely and slowly catching the clear breeze…

Laughing at the waveless blue ripples, leaves accompany frog friends, flowers fill the pond to gain freedom.

The Grand Manager suddenly felt poetic and recited a children’s song. Luo Moshi looked blank and listened sullenly all the way until he heard the three words “gain freedom,” and suddenly understood: “Tyranny must perish—his mistress can’t endure the torment and abuse, and at this moment wants freedom.”

He exclaimed “Ah!” several times in his heart and began speculating about the Grand Manager’s thoughts. Why had he received several secret reports today but had no time to deal with them? Why, despite his deep scheming, was he sighing at a pond today? It seemed his mistress couldn’t endure the torment and finally wanted to escape at this moment.

Looking at today’s situation, the “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman” had an affair and became pregnant, wanting to give birth to the child. But the Grand Manager was naturally cold-hearted and insisted she abort, inevitably causing the heavenly woman’s hatred—he must be coming to deal with her now. As for why he brought himself along, family scandals couldn’t be made public. Such private matters weren’t convenient to bring retainers for—only finding himself, this tight-lipped old accountant, would be reliable.

Luo Moshi used to be a dignified high monk, daily striking the cold wooden fish, naturally committing all manner of evil including murder and arson. After returning to secular life, marrying and having children, holding crying infants daily, he had actually become a compassionate father. Thinking that eliminating a mistress would damage his virtue, he actually sighed softly.

Being a good person is difficult, being bad is easy. As soon as the sigh emerged, the Grand Manager immediately glanced over and asked, “What are you sighing about? Don’t you like this poem?” Luo Moshi was startled and quickly said, “No, no, absolutely not.” While trying hard to shirk responsibility, the Grand Manager continued, “Master Luo Moshi, everyone says you’re profoundly learned in literature, knowing all classics and histories. What do you think this poem wants to express? Can you explain it for me?”

Luo Moshi exclaimed and thought of the three words “gain freedom.” Just as he was about to explain truthfully, he saw the Grand Manager staring at him with somewhat unfriendly eyes. Being exceptionally clever, he suppressed his words. He lowered his head, calculated the total number of words in the poem, and said with joined palms, “Reporting to Grand Manager, that poem just now had thirty-seven words total, each word like a pearl, speaking of truly substantial matters.” The Grand Manager nodded, “I also know it’s truly substantial. What else?” Luo Moshi was an expert in bookkeeping, skilled in literature, history, and mathematics, usually eloquent, but thinking of the secret mistress gaining freedom at this moment, he seemed to have swallowed a large steamed bun and couldn’t speak. Intending to delay and evade, he joined his palms and bowed, then took out a handkerchief to carefully wipe his cold sweat. Seeing the Grand Manager’s gaze growing colder, he simply steeled his heart, clapped his hands together, and ventured, “Congratulations Grand Manager! Felicitations Grand Manager!” The Grand Manager’s handsome face grew stern as he said coldly, “What are you congratulating me for?” Luo Moshi said joyfully, “According to this subordinate’s repeated analysis, this poem contains deep meaning, probably praising the court’s virtuous governance and promoting Chinese culture.”

Little fish swimming around was actually related to Great China? Seeing the Grand Manager quite surprised, Luo Moshi quickly shook his head and recited, “The Guanzi says: ‘Vast waters nurture growing fish’—this means rulers and ministers are like fish in water. Our great Chinese nation is vast and magnificent, with moons, flowers, hooks—everything is there, like flowers blooming in a pond, splendid and abundant… The fish, filled with admiration, naturally enter in schools, swimming in the cauldron. Amitabha Buddha, all free indeed.”

Speaking complete nonsense without relevance, the “Grand Manager” showed no temper. He shook his head, smiled wryly, and turned to leave. Luo Moshi had escaped disaster and breathed a great sigh of relief.

Walking to Guang’an Gate Recreation Garden, the local area was decorated with lanterns and colors, full of festive joy—it was time for New Year celebrations. The Grand Manager turned several street corners and saw a row of pastry shops ahead, apparently wanting to inspect them. Luo Moshi bowed and said, “Reporting to Grand Manager, there are eighty-seven pastry shops here. Last year six old shops closed, three new ones opened, totaling silver tax payments of one thousand eight hundred seventy-seven taels…”

Just as he was eloquently reciting from memory, he saw the “Grand Manager” walk into a nearby pastry shop and ask, “Shopkeeper, are things ready?” A shopkeeper came forward, pushing a small cart, and said busily, “Ready! Ready! Red bean buns, crab shell pastries, water chestnut cakes, pea yellow cakes, rice cakes—two large packages of each, all prepared early.”

If anyone else had entered a pastry shop, Luo Moshi wouldn’t have glanced at them, but this person was the “Grand Manager,” so Luo Moshi couldn’t help being completely surprised. After going out, the Grand Manager never ate outside food—even imperial bestowed wine and dishes, he only pretended to taste. Who would have thought he’d be in such good spirits today, actually wanting to buy pastries to eat?

Just as he was wondering, the Grand Manager came out pushing a small cart loaded with cakes and pastries. The big boss personally doing menial work—Luo Moshi was inwardly shocked and hurried forward, calling loudly, “Grand Manager, let this subordinate handle such menial tasks!”

The Grand Manager shook his head and said, “Once a year—don’t steal my pleasure.” He waved off Luo Moshi and pushed the cart full of pastries straight toward Anding Gate, apparently leaving the city.

What an inexplicable day—the inn’s number one important person pushing a pastry cart in front, with the Sixth Manager silently following behind. If this news got out, the Nucang bandits would surely laugh their bellies off. Luo Moshi looked at his superior’s back and couldn’t help shaking his head in bitter amusement. The Grand Manager handled myriad affairs daily—why was he pushing pastries around today? The battle situation in Xiangyang was urgent, the demon blade was robbed at Yangzhou crossing—didn’t he care at all? Thinking of his family settled in Beijing, Luo Moshi could only walk beside the cart and ask quietly, “Grand Manager, what’s the real situation in the southwest? Did we lose the war?”

The Grand Manager pushed the cart on his own and said indifferently, “Master is overthinking. If I judge correctly, the Xiangyang battle should have been won.”

Hearing of the great southern victory, Luo Moshi was both shocked and delighted. Nucang had gone south to bloodily wash Xiangyang, the battle situation had been deadlocked for months—to see Grand Commander Dingyuan so capable, actually breaking the enemy bandits before New Year, that was truly the world’s greatest red envelope.

Naturally, victory wouldn’t come without reason—the Grand Manager must have done something behind the scenes for the court to achieve such triumphant success. Luo Moshi was both shocked and admiring, saying joyfully, “Congratulations Grand Manager! Felicitations Grand Manager! With the southwest pacified, the world will surely be at peace.” The Grand Manager shook his head and said in a low voice, “Whether the world can be at peace—that’s still too early to say.” Suddenly hearing this, as if Nucang still had some conspiracy, Luo Moshi’s old eyebrows trembled as he said nervously, “You… you mean the Fourth Manager he… he can’t protect the demon blade…”

In early winter month, the enemy’s military strategist advanced east to Changzhou, forcing Jin Lingshuang to rush to Jiangnan to escort the demon blade north. If their side took Xiangyang City but lost that great ominous blade, Nucang would lose in the east but gain in the west—the gains and losses were truly hard to determine. Seeing Luo Moshi full of worry, the Grand Manager gazed at the cakes on the cart and said faintly, “Don’t be afraid. If Qin Zhonghai wants to come seize the blade, I would welcome it.” He patted Luo Moshi’s shoulder reassuringly.

The cold palm made Luo Moshi’s body cold but his heart warm. Looking at this sinister appearance, the Grand Manager apparently had another poisonous plan to deal with the angry king. Luo Moshi wiped his cold sweat and smiled dryly, “Grand Manager is brilliant and godlike, predicting events like a god. This subordinate is fortunate to follow you—truly a thousand kinds of luck, ten thousand kinds of admiration…” Hearing the praise, the Grand Manager showed no joy. He sighed and said in a low voice, “Predicting events like a god… if I truly predicted events like a god… the world wouldn’t be in this state.”

Luo Moshi exclaimed and quickly said, “Grand Manager, the situation is set—what worries do you still have?” The demon blade already had backup defenses, the Xiangyang battle situation was even clearer—the general trend was set, what changes could there still be? He looked at the Grand Manager with complete puzzlement. The Grand Manager breathed out deeply, letting the hot air from his mouth condense into clusters of water vapor. In the midst of the vapor, he squinted and said, “You know, Qin Zhonghai is no ordinary person. He absolutely won’t play chess games arranged by others.” Luo Moshi’s heart trembled as he bowed and said, “This subordinate is dull—please enlighten me more, Grand Manager.”

The Grand Manager smiled mockingly and said in a low voice, “Back when Emperor Jingtai’s army surrounded Nucang, his ability to kneel down was already far beyond my expectations. If he plays an unexpected move this time, the court might lose everything.” Indeed, Qin Zhonghai’s life had great ups and downs—broken legs and disabilities, wandering the jianghu destitute, but no matter how dangerous the battle situation, they could never kill him. Luo Moshi was shocked and couldn’t help stammering in a cold voice, “Then… then what should we do?”

The Grand Manager said indifferently, “Didn’t I just tell you? Who are we going to see now?” Thinking of the four words “secret mistress,” Luo Moshi looked completely embarrassed and muttered, “Nat… Nation-Protecting Hea… Heavenly Woman…” The Grand Manager nodded, “Exactly, the Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman. As long as we can welcome this immortal lady, no matter what moves Qin Zhonghai makes, we’ll have ways to deal with them.”

“This subordinate understands.” Hearing such strange words, Luo Moshi naturally looked bitter and had no response.

What an absurd day—even mistresses could go to battle now, what else was impossible?

Passing the bell tower and arriving at the Imperial Academy, the two left Beijing through Anding Gate. Along the way, the Grand Manager chose small paths, never showing his face to acquaintances. Just after leaving the capital, the weather turned bitterly cold with heavy snow hitting their faces. The Grand Manager walked faster and faster. Though clearly pushing a small cart without exertion, he moved like wind, thunder, and lightning, like a phantom in the wind, disappearing into the heavy snow in the blink of an eye. Luo Moshi desperately tried to catch up but still couldn’t keep pace. Gasping like an ox, he could only search for tracks along the way.

Luo Moshi’s martial arts were hardly ordinary, but he didn’t know whether he had been slack for many years or the Grand Manager had advanced to a divine realm. In a simple lightness skill competition, he was utterly defeated. He brushed away the white snow from his face and, feeling extremely annoyed, had to stop and guess the Grand Manager’s strategy.

According to the Grand Manager’s meaning, the Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman could influence the entire situation and even help the court pacify the Nucang rebellion. It wasn’t that Luo Moshi deliberately doubted his superior—it was just that these words were too mystical and hard to believe.

Unable to guess, there was no need to guess anymore. The Grand Manager was no ordinary person. Living to thirty-six, all those who had pressed down on him came to bad ends. His father had disappeared, his master died inexplicably, and even his closest superiors—Marquis Liu, his father-in-law Minister Gu—none had good endings… Since Qin Zhonghai counted as the Grand Manager’s good friend, he would definitely die at the Grand Manager’s hands in the end.

Luo Moshi relaxed and was about to put his worries aside when his mind suddenly awakened and he had another thought.

Wrong… Qin Zhonghai might not necessarily die… Marquis Liu wasn’t just the Grand Manager’s superior—he was also like father and son with “Fire Greed One Blade,” yet he ended up with his family destroyed… For that heartless, righteousness-lacking night, Fang Zijing chose to part ways with his disciple. And that unlucky fellow surnamed Lu—he also took a blade from the demon…

Betraying the court, abandoning old friends, turning against benefactors and masters, even able to watch the old superior’s son die without helping… Qin Zhonghai cared about nothing. If he truly inherited his father’s remaining aspirations, he would have long accepted Emperor Zhengtong’s recruitment—why would he raise Jingtai’s banner and fight the court to this extent? Naturally, he had long betrayed his father’s aspirations.

The Grand Manager befriending such a person couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t be killed by him.

Civil Yang and Martial Qin were really too similar… In bitter laughter, Luo Moshi didn’t dare think much more. He examined the tracks left by the Grand Manager and slowly followed. After about three more li, a temple suddenly appeared ahead—surrounded by mountains on three sides and bordering a lake on one side—it was Hongluo Temple.

Hongluo Temple was also called Nation-Protecting Temple. Because the current emperor believed in Buddhism, after ascending the throne he decreed the renovation of Buddhist temples. The five great ancient monasteries—Tanzhe, Jietai, Wofo, Biyun—all received imperial grace. Among the many temples, this “Hongluo Temple” was most important. During the Zhengtong years, this temple was renamed and designated as “Nation-Protecting Blessing Zen Temple.” The abbot was personally appointed by the emperor with official rank of sixth grade, leading all Buddhist temples nationwide, called the number one precious monastery north of Beijing.

Thinking of the name “Nation-Protecting Temple,” Luo Moshi’s heart awakened—he knew the Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman must have some connection to this place. With doubts in his heart, he hurried up the mountain into the temple. At this time, the snow grew heavier. Coming to the front courtyard, thick fog arose on all sides. Luo Moshi followed the Grand Manager’s tracks, walking several hundred more feet. Suddenly his eyes brightened—he was surprised to see red light shining from the mountaintop through the gloomy snow, revealing two precious pagodas that looked ancient and elegant. Luo Moshi’s heart trembled as he muttered to himself, “Hongluo Heavenly Woman.”

So that’s how it was—the Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman in the Grand Manager’s mouth was real. He was referring to the Hongluo Woman.

Legend said the Jade Emperor gave birth to two princesses who, because they loved this Hongluo Mountain, transformed into two beautiful large water snails living in the Pearl Pool in the temple. At night, red light shimmered—a strange phenomenon. Later, when the heavenly women returned to the celestial realm, later generations built these two precious pagodas to commemorate the two heavenly woman empresses, hoping they would one day return to the mortal world to protect all beings again. This was the origin of Hongluo Temple’s flourishing incense offerings.

Walking all the way to the base of Hongluo Pagoda, he suddenly saw a cart placed outside the pagoda door, but the door was only ajar. Looking at the cart, half the various pastries were gone—without doubt, the Grand Manager had entered the pagoda. Luo Moshi thought secretly, “You cunning Grand Manager, keeping a beauty in a golden house—so you’re hiding her in a temple. Clearly she’s a mistress, yet you trick me with talk of ‘Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman’?”

The Nation-Stabilizing Iron Guards were busy with official duties, but this afternoon was chaotic—the Grand Manager wouldn’t even look at urgent documents, just playing the fool here. One moment a heavenly woman, the next moment a mistress—truly making one’s scalp tingle with confusion. Anyway, Luo Moshi had already submitted his account books and was happy to accompany his superior in leisurely foolishness. As for what the Grand Manager was doing in the pagoda, whether he’d given birth to a son or daughter, he was too lazy to care.

Last night he’d calculated accounts all night and hadn’t rested until now. Luo Moshi sat cross-legged with his back against the precious pagoda. As soon as he closed his eyes slightly, drowsiness grew thick. Just as he was about to snore, he suddenly heard laughter from behind: “Luo Moshi, long time no see.” Luo Moshi was greatly shocked, quickly opened his eyes and looked back, surprised to see someone dimly leaning inside the door, glancing and smiling at him. Luo Moshi rubbed his eyes and focused his gaze, seeing that person was under fifty years old, face bearing a smile, mustache on his lips, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t…

“Lord Jiang!” Luo Moshi was shocked and delighted: “You’re still alive! You’re still alive!” He rushed straight over, pointing at his old superior, somewhat dancing with joy. Grand Secretary Jiang laughed heartily, glancing sideways at Luo Moshi’s bald head: “Look at Master’s bear-like appearance—how is it that changing to a big boss made you seem to regress more and more?”

“Yes, yes!” Luo Moshi wiped away tears and nodded vigorously: “Lord Jiang, how are you here?”

The Jiang barbarian laughed heartily: “Fool, this Hongluo Pagoda is my home.” Luo Moshi thought of the four words “secret mistress” and hurriedly said, “Ah! So you… so you are the Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman? Are you pregnant?”

“Pregnant your grandmother’s big-headed ghost! You actually said such a thing!” Lord Jiang first spat, then couldn’t help laughing, finally bursting into hearty laughter. Thinking of Lord Jiang’s past of visiting prostitutes and courtesans, Luo Moshi knew he’d wrongly accused someone and quickly said, “Then… then who lives in this pagoda?” Lord Jiang laughed: “Go investigate yourself. I’m now an official without burdens, not your big boss anymore.”

The big boss was surnamed Yang, no longer Jiang. Luo Moshi could only smile apologetically and bow: “What you say is right. Then how did you come here? Could it be… could it be…” Several “could it be’s” but he couldn’t guess the reason. The Jiang barbarian stretched lazily and said languidly, “I’ll tell you—today I descended to eat offerings.” Luo Moshi was puzzled: “Eat offerings? What does that mean?” The Jiang barbarian smiled mischievously: “Figure it out yourself. I don’t have time to accompany you.” Speaking thus, as if afraid the offerings would be eaten by others, he hurried toward the pagoda and disappeared in an instant.

Luo Moshi stood dazed for a long while, then hurried into the pagoda, calling anxiously, “Lord, please wait! I still have things to tell you! Don’t you want to know the whereabouts of the Qing Prince? Don’t go! Don’t go!” His calls grew more pitiful, finally crying out his heart’s desire: “Lord! Don’t abandon me! Take me with you! Take me with you! I don’t want to keep accounts anymore!”

Thud—his head hit something. Luo Moshi opened his eyes in shock to find himself lying on the ground inside Hongluo Pagoda, bone-chillingly cold with dark, quiet surroundings. Looking back, afternoon cold light was shining through the pagoda window onto the ground. The cart outside still stood at the entrance—everything was exactly as before he slept. The Grand Manager hadn’t come out yet.

Luo Moshi had had a strange dream and couldn’t help sighing in bewilderment. He touched his aching head, not knowing what hard object he’d just hit. He muttered and focused his gaze, suddenly seeing something round in his eyes. Without realizing it, his eyes filled with hot tears.

Lord Jiang…

Luo Moshi smiled bitterly, tears falling from his eyes. That Provincial Inspector-General of eighteen provinces, the mighty and dignified Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince, was just contained in a round urn of ashes, as if still blinking and teasing his mediocre old subordinate.

Around the pagoda walls sat urn after urn of ashes—those he recognized and those he didn’t, all gazing at him… Luo Moshi gently caressed his superior’s remains, tears streaming down his face, unable to control himself for a long time.

He didn’t know how long he’d cried when someone patted his shoulder. Luo Moshi awakened and looked up to see a man gazing at him. Looking at his handsome, distinguished features, his direct superior had arrived. Luo Moshi quickly wiped away his tears and lowered his face: “Grand Manager.” The Grand Manager glanced sideways, seeing Luo Moshi embracing Grand Secretary Jiang’s remains and weeping. He didn’t say much, only raised his neck and called out clearly: “Ruyu, I’m leaving now. On New Year’s Day, Qianxi will bring the child over—I won’t come then.” As soon as he finished speaking, a woman’s gentle voice answered: “Thank you, Lord Yang. Take care.”

Luo Moshi was shocked and quickly looked up, seeing a woman standing on the pagoda stairs. She appeared to be around forty years old, no longer a young girl in her prime—but was she that “secret mistress” or the legendary “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman”? Just as he was about to ask, the Grand Manager pulled Luo Moshi outside the pagoda, apparently not wanting him to disturb this woman with words.

Coming urgently like wind and fire, returning leisurely on foot—seeing the Grand Manager push up the small cart and descend the mountain, Luo Moshi no longer pretended to be a clown, just silently walking all the way. The Grand Manager, seeing his heavy thoughts, smiled and said: “Doesn’t Master want to ask who lives in the pagoda?” Hearing this, Luo Moshi only smiled bitterly and shook his head: “Grand Manager, I’m already old.”

Old—too old to want to know anymore… This wasn’t his era. The applause didn’t need him, the flattery didn’t require him—his glory had ended. The Grand Manager looked at Luo Moshi and patted his bald head with his backhand, the palm warm as if carrying a touch of comfort.

The two pushed the cart all the way back to the capital during the New Year afternoon. White snow was thick on the road, passersby all had smiling faces—a scene of festive joy. The two walked half a li and came to a humble alley in Beijing’s old streets—Copper Gong Alley. The Grand Manager stopped the cart, took out a human skin mask from his chest and put it on. In the blink of an eye, he became a middle-aged man with a sallow complexion.

Throughout the day’s journey, the Grand Manager’s behavior had been consistently strange. Seeing him with new tricks, Luo Moshi could only stare blankly, not knowing what to say. He thought of his wife and children and said quietly: “Grand Manager, this subordinate’s family is still waiting for me to come home for New Year. May I leave?” The Grand Manager smiled: “Not yet—we haven’t welcomed the heavenly woman yet.” Luo Moshi was shocked: “This… another heavenly woman? Doesn’t she live in the pagoda?”

The Grand Manager laughed: “You forget quickly—how many Hongluo Heavenly Women are there?” The two precious pagodas appeared before his eyes. Luo Moshi smiled bitterly: “Two… two…” The Grand Manager seemed not to hear his mocking tone and just laughed to himself: “Exactly two. Indra gave us two heavenly women—one can pray for our blessing and protection, already living in the pagoda. The other can subdue demons and drive away ghosts but is still moving in the mortal world—we’ve come to welcome her.”

There were two “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Women”—what did this mean? Could it be he kept two mistresses? With the Grand Manager’s romantic charm, keeping even ten mistresses would be fine, but beautiful women with their sweet voices—where did they have power to subdue demons and drive away evil? Luo Moshi had no energy to think more, just stood like a guard to the side with a face full of sorrow.

The Grand Manager didn’t discuss court matters much either. He lifted his long robe and sat on the street side. Seeing Luo Moshi still standing, he patted the empty space beside him: “Come sit down and chat with me.” The Grand Manager, disguised as a middle-aged vendor, seemed to have become gentler.

Luo Moshi opened his mouth wide, not knowing if this person had taken the wrong medicine. He hesitated for a long while and finally boldly sat beside the Grand Manager, looking somewhat uneasy.

The Grand Manager smiled and asked lightly: “You miss Grand Secretary Jiang very much, don’t you?”

Luo Moshi exclaimed, actually hesitating and finding it hard to speak. After a long while, he finally gathered courage and nodded very, very lightly. The Grand Manager patted Luo Moshi’s back and smiled: “Not only do you miss him—I too would like to see him and ask him for some wisdom.”

Grand Secretary Jiang had long died, and even if still alive, he was merely the Grand Manager’s defeated subordinate—what could he advise anyone? Luo Moshi stared blankly at the Grand Manager’s false face and smiled apologetically: “My lord… you… are you joking?” The Grand Manager sighed: “Perhaps. In any case, governing a country is like cooking small fish—to be able to get it just right like him, neither too hot nor too cold, is not so easy.”

Hearing the Grand Manager speak with admiration, Luo Moshi was naturally stunned. Just then, someone said: “Shopkeeper, how much do these pastries cost?” Luo Moshi came to his senses and quickly turned to look, seeing a beautiful woman standing before the cart, holding silver coins, picking and choosing as if wanting to buy some water chestnut cakes. The Grand Manager actually also stood up and came to the cart side, learning the manner of a vendor to make conversation.

The beautiful woman had a gentle voice: “Are these pastries fresh?” Luo Moshi smiled dryly and was about to step forward to answer when he heard the Grand Manager change his voice and answer first: “Made fresh this morning, madam can be completely assured—absolutely won’t upset your stomach.”

Upset the stomach? Hearing the Grand Manager so convincingly actually doing business, Luo Moshi naturally blinked and showed a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth. The beautiful woman nodded and said: “A’Xiu, come on. Pick whatever you want to eat yourself.” A boy quickly came forward. Looking at his dark complexion, bright eyes, and a jade belt tied on his forehead, he appeared full of energy. Luo Moshi stared blankly at the boy, thinking: “A’Xiu—this name sounds familiar…” Suddenly his mind awakened: “Young Master Shenxiu?” He was greatly shocked and looked again at the beautiful woman’s back, recognizing this woman’s identity.

“Two generations of court debate at Scholar’s Forest Study, exclusively discussing the world’s injustices”—this beautiful woman was none other than Minister Gu’s daughter Qianxi from years past. She was the female owner of Scholar’s Forest Study and also the Grand Manager’s lawful wife. Though Luo Moshi was the Grand Manager’s subordinate, because he spent years hiding in the treasury calculating accounts, he rarely interacted with the Grand Manager’s family members, so seeing her suddenly, he actually didn’t recognize her. Just as Luo Moshi was surprised, he heard the Grand Manager say: “Young master, sweet cakes are twenty coins per box, buy two get one free—take whatever you want.”

Truly absurd—tomorrow was New Year’s Eve, yet the Yang family’s male head wouldn’t return home to be the master, wouldn’t go to the inn to be Grand Manager, but came to humble alleys to disguise himself and offer “buy two get one free”? Could it be he couldn’t raise silver for New Year money, or had state affairs finally driven him mad?

Just as he was speculating, the child moved to the beautiful woman’s feet, pointed at pea yellow cakes and laughed: “Little old man! Give me two pieces of this kind.” Before he finished speaking, the beautiful woman pinched her son’s cheek reproachfully: “Don’t speak rudely.” But A’Xiu wasn’t afraid of pain and smiled mischievously: “Little old man counts as rude speech? Mother is truly ignorant…” The Grand Manager, being called an old man, didn’t take offense. He just took up a cardboard and folded it into a box, then placed the pea yellow cakes piece by piece into the box. A’Xiu shouted: “Wait! Pick bigger pieces—don’t cheat my mother’s silver!” The beautiful woman, hearing her son speak rudely, stared at him with displeasure.

The boy was quite clever. Seeing his mother truly angry, he quickly changed his expression and smiled apologetically: “Uncle, hello! The weather’s cold—congratulations and prosperity!”

Luo Moshi stared blankly at the family of three’s behavior but couldn’t guess the Grand Manager’s intention. Thinking of the four words “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman,” he was even more puzzled, wondering if Miss Gu was the heavenly woman. But she had no martial arts—what power did she have to subdue demons and drive away evil? To pacify Nucang?

While thinking, the beautiful woman had already taken out silver from her chest and placed it in her son’s hands, instructing: “Mother will go inside the house first. After you pick the sweet cakes, remember to bring everything inside.” A’Xiu, seeing a full tael of silver in his hands, was overjoyed and picked everything, buying a box of each. Luo Moshi glanced over and saw Miss Gu slowly walking into the alley. She came to an old house and opened the door to enter, then took out a broom and began sweeping at the entrance.

The Grand Manager watched his wife’s figure all along the way, his gaze never leaving her for a moment, apparently paying attention to her every movement. Luo Moshi thought to himself, “This family is truly strange beyond belief. As New Year approaches, the husband sells pastries while the wife comes to humble alleys to sweep the courtyard and kitchen—truly inexplicable.” Just as he was thinking, he suddenly heard A’Xiu shout, “Baldy, if you dare peek at my mother again! Be careful or I’ll beat you to death!”

Luo Moshi’s heart jumped as he quickly looked toward the Yang family’s third member and smiled apologetically, “What are you saying? What are you saying? Young master, you misunderstand.”

That A’Xiu was naturally mischievous. Seeing his mother leave, he immediately put on airs. He pointed at the Grand Manager and sneered, “Old thief, I’ve never seen you before. Are you a burglar!” The Grand Manager looked at A’Xiu and smiled, “Little brother, so fierce. Does your mother often come here?”

A’Xiu pointed accusingly and cursed, “Why are you asking this? Planning some evil scheme?” The Grand Manager said, “Don’t worry, I’m not a bad person. I just think your mother looks like an official’s wife, not like a local neighbor, so I asked a couple more questions.”

This neighborhood was located in Beijing’s old streets, commonly called Copper Gong Alley—a famous humble alley in Beijing. That beautiful woman had elegant bearing and was clearly not a local. A’Xiu snorted, “My mother doesn’t look like someone from around here, but you look even less like one. Look at your face skin—stiff and hard, smiling without warmth, like a zombie. Could it be you jumped out from some grave mound on Rabbit Hill?” Hearing this, the Grand Manager immediately burst into laughter, but his face skin didn’t move at all. Looking at it, he truly smiled without warmth, really resembling a living zombie. Luo Moshi saw this and sighed inwardly, thinking, “Our inn’s human skin masks aren’t finely made—they need improvement.”

The Grand Manager wrapped pastries in his hands, his gaze still watching that beautiful woman’s figure. Seeing her finish sweeping, she opened the door and went inside, then lit an oil lamp. That warm figure showed through the window lattice—she was probably tidying up inside again. A’Xiu saw the Grand Manager staring fixedly, still peeping at his mother. Immediately his eyebrows shot up as he shouted, “You’re still looking? Keep looking and I’ll eat you out of business!” He reached out and took a piece of water chestnut cake and ate it himself—apparently this piece wouldn’t be paid for. The Grand Manager smiled and wrapped the pastries in paper boxes, saying indifferently, “Little brother, with such a fierce appearance, aren’t you afraid your father will beat you?”

A’Xiu sneered, “Beat me? How would my father dare beat me? He’s too busy trying to please me!”

The Grand Manager exclaimed and said, “Is that so?” A’Xiu said solemnly, “Of course. My father always wants to make me happy. He keeps saying, ‘Young master, are you hungry? Young master, do you need money? Want women? Just speak up…'” Hearing this made Luo Moshi’s scalp tingle, but the Grand Manager took no offense, just shook his head and smiled, “There are actually such fathers in the world—truly hard to believe.”

A’Xiu laughed, “Not only don’t you believe it, we don’t believe it either.” He threw the water chestnut cake into his mouth and swallowed it whole, then took out silver coins from his chest and smiled, “Alright, no more nonsense with you. Here’s your money.” The Grand Manager honestly accepted the silver and gave back a large handful of copper coins. The boy didn’t bother counting and just picked up the large and small packages, then ran toward the alley.

After the woman and child left, the superior still watched the mother and son’s backs, smiling. Luo Moshi carefully asked in a low voice, “Grand Manager, that was your son just now, wasn’t it?” The Grand Manager nodded, “More or less.”

A son is a son—whether biological or adopted, there should be no ambiguity! How could he say “more or less”? Luo Moshi coughed quietly. Though somewhat puzzled, he didn’t want to ask more—after all, this was the Grand Manager’s family matter, which he dared not interfere with.

Just as they were quiet, footsteps sounded again. Luo Moshi looked back to see a little girl bouncing over, laughing, “Mother! There are pastries for sale here!” Her voice was clear and crisp. Though only eight or nine years old, she had red lips and white teeth, charming and lovely. Luo Moshi, a sixty-year-old man, was most fond of little girls and was about to reach out to play with her when he suddenly smelled a floral fragrance in his nose. The scent was like precious peonies, so thick it was intoxicating. His heart jumped as he quickly looked toward where the fragrance came from, immediately seeing a woman.

The woman with bright eyes and white teeth had a melon-seed face. She wore a sable-collared fur coat, a six-panel treasure skirt around her waist, jade bracelets gleaming on her fingers, and held the little girl’s hand. Luo Moshi was greatly shocked, as if seeing a mother tiger beside a young tiger cub, and quickly pulled his head back, not daring to move again.

Grand Commander Wu lived frugally all his life, having only one wife whom he cherished and pampered endlessly. Needless to say, this woman was the former sect leader of Mount Jiuhua, Yan Ting, “Golden Water Lotus.” Looking at her exquisite dress and standing shoulder to shoulder with her daughter, they truly were like golden gates and jade halls by the water, every frown and smile containing myriad emotions, making one’s face burn.

Compared to Mrs. Yang who had just passed by, Yan Ting appeared very warm and seductive. She had more worldly glamour than Mrs. Yang but inevitably had less spiritual elegance. Luo Moshi dared not look at her beauty much and turned to face the wall, standing at attention.

Seeing her daughter happily picking sweet cakes, Yan Ting’s eyes sparkled as she immediately noticed Luo Moshi’s bald head. She exclaimed and quickly turned her pretty face to look up and down at the pastry stand’s big boss, her waist trembling as she giggled charmingly, “What’s wrong? The inn’s Grand Manager finds his position difficult and has become a vendor instead?” Wu Chonghua was busy picking pastries while her mother laughed inexplicably. She looked up at her mother puzzled, “Mother, do you know this boss?”

Yan Ting looked at the Grand Manager, then glanced at the humble alley houses, shaking her head with a smile, “Children have ears but no mouths—go pick your pastries.” Wu Chonghua said “Oh” and continued choosing sweet cakes, saying to herself, “Boss, I want mung bean cakes and hawthorn biscuits…” The Grand Manager ignored Yan Ting, holding a paper box in one hand while helping the little girl collect and pack pastries with the other. Yan Ting smiled melodiously, “Sir, look how hard your small business is. Why don’t you find a wife to help?” The Grand Manager didn’t speak or answer, just picked up a piece of eight-treasure glutinous rice cake and stuffed it into Yan Ting’s palm. Yan Ting’s eyes were flirtatiously charming as she lifted the eight-treasure cake and took a light bite, smiling, “This cake is really sticky—but whose mouth is it meant to stick to?”

Wu Chonghua heard her mother’s strange words and couldn’t help looking up and murmuring, “Mother, you’re acting weird.” The child’s question was more effective than anything—Yan Ting indeed quieted down. The Grand Manager quickly packed pastries for Hua Mei and handed them to her.

Wu Chonghua joyfully hugged the pastries and looked back at her mother with a smile, “Mother, pay up.” Yan Ting shook her head, “No need to pay. Your Aunt Yang has a big reputation—put it on her account.” She drew out the word “Yang” and blinked her almond eyes at the Grand Manager while speaking—clearly looking for trouble again. The Grand Manager coughed, “Madam, this is a small business that doesn’t extend credit. Please pay cash.”

Wu Chonghua resembled her mother in appearance but had her father’s honest nature. Seeing her mother putting on airs to bully others, she quickly said, “Mother, father said we can’t default on common people’s money. If mother won’t pay cash, I won’t buy anything.” Yan Ting spat and hugged Hua Mei, “Look at you always helping outsiders.” She glanced at the Grand Manager and asked, “How much money, shopkeeper?” The Grand Manager actually lowered his head to calculate and answered, “Twenty-three wen—I’ll round it to five qian for you.”

Five qian was twenty wen. The saying goes four wen exchange for one qian, ten qian make one tael. Hearing the Grand Manager speak seriously, Yan Ting couldn’t help giggling charmingly. She opened her embroidered gold purse and picked out a phoenix-patterned gold leaf. Luo Moshi frowned, thinking, “Deliberately causing trouble—how can this be changed?” The phoenix-patterned gold leaf was worth twenty taels of silver, enough to exchange for eight hundred wen. Indeed, the Grand Manager didn’t have so much small change and could only stand with his hands at his sides, motionless. Little Chonghua was kind-hearted and said, “Mother, I have broken silver here. Why don’t I pay?” Yan Ting, seeing her daughter constantly interrupting, pushed her gently from behind and said sternly, “Go practice painting quickly. Don’t keep Aunt Yang waiting.” Hearing the words “practice painting,” Luo Moshi’s mind awakened—he finally understood why Yan Ting and her daughter were wandering in this humble alley. They had come to send the daughter to learn painting.

Wu Chonghua, hearing her mother urge her, immediately agreed and ran toward the small alley. Yan Ting, seeing her lift her skirt to run, couldn’t help sighing, “This child is truly wild.” Seeing her daughter leave, she shook her head and turned to look at the pastry stand again. This young matron with charming eyes was definitely going to be unrestrained now. Indeed, Luo Moshi was afraid and quickly shrank behind the Grand Manager, not daring to move.

Yan Ting’s charming eyes swept up and down, first looking at Luo Moshi’s bald head, then at the Grand Manager’s false face, and said coldly, “Officials these days are getting stranger and stranger. Clearly receiving court salaries, yet in broad daylight they don’t handle official business, just act mysteriously guarding outside their wives’ doors. I ask you two, what’s the logic in this?” Others feared the Grand Manager, but Yan Ting was commanding and spoke with sharp thorns. The Grand Manager remained unmoved, lowering his head to arrange pastries, treating these words as if he hadn’t heard them.

Yan Ting, seeing him ignore her, immediately bent down, glancing at the Grand Manager from the corner of her eyes with a smile, “Your human skin mask is too tight—no wonder you can’t speak. Let me take a look for you.” Speaking thus, she made a move to remove the Grand Manager’s false face. Just as she was about to act, she suddenly saw the Grand Manager’s left hand reach out and grasp Yan Ting’s pulse point, pulling her over with a smooth motion.

The Grand Manager’s left hand pulled Yan Ting while his right hand removed the human skin mask, revealing that handsome face. The two faced each other across the cart, their eyes meeting at a distance of no more than an inch. Yan Ting’s laughter finally stopped. Her dark eyebrows were knitted, her peach cheeks faintly flushed red, showing a rare serious expression. She said coldly, “Men and women shouldn’t touch—let go of me quickly.” The Grand Manager wasn’t in a hurry to let go. He glanced at the humble alley houses and asked indifferently, “It’s cold and windy. People are inside eating pastries and learning painting—how lively. Why don’t you go join them?”

Hearing this, Yan Ting straightened up and gently broke free from the Grand Manager’s grasp. She smoothed her hair and said calmly, “First, I don’t want to learn any painting. Second…” She casually picked up a piece plum cake, pressed it to her lips and kissed it, smiling, “I don’t want to teach her either.”

Yan Ting was already beautiful, but now with her starry eyes glancing sideways and lips pursed in a kiss, she appeared even more charming. Luo Moshi stared blankly at her beauty and couldn’t help being greatly amazed. Yan Ting was about to say more when she suddenly saw Luo Moshi’s bald head reflecting light from the cart—extremely unsightly. She threw the pastry back onto the stand, replaced it with a cold expression, and said solemnly, “You received the battle report from the southwest, didn’t you?” Hearing about military and state affairs, Luo Moshi immediately looked up, quietly observing the situation from the corner of his eyes. He heard the Grand Manager say, “I received it, but haven’t opened it yet.” Yan Ting exclaimed and said, “Why didn’t you open it? Are you afraid of disappointment?”

The Grand Manager smiled and shook his head, “Not at all. Dingyuan has never disappointed me.” Yan Ting smiled coldly, nodded, and lowered her head. After a short while, she suddenly raised her face again, this time with a smile covering her features. She said cheerfully, “Lord Yang is right! My Dingyuan goes to battle year after year and has never disappointed you. But what about you, Grand Secretary Yang? You two have such good friendship—do you have the heart to disappoint him?”

Seeing Yan Ting’s bright eyes staring only at the Grand Manager, Luo Moshi sensed the hidden meaning in her tone. His face changed as he turned to the wall to contemplate his mistakes. After an unknown time, the Grand Manager shrugged and said indifferently, “Madam jests. Dingyuan married you, didn’t he? What else does he have to be disappointed about?” Speaking thus, he put the human skin mask back on, lowered his head to arrange pastries, and said no more.

The two looked at each other. Yan Ting seemed thoughtful as she brushed snow off her body. Just as she was about to turn and leave, she suddenly remembered something and said, “My son has sneaked out again. Does this have anything to do with you?” The Grand Manager didn’t look up and said directly, “A man’s ambition spans the world. At his age, I was already wandering the jianghu, making the world my home.”

The implication was that he found Yan Ting too controlling, inevitably stifling her son’s future prospects. Yan Ting, hearing this, smiled slightly. She looked up at the snowy sky and said softly, “Watching the sea clouds from afar, watching the sea clouds from afar… Sometimes I think I’m really glad that your Willow Gate still has a Qin Zhonghai. Otherwise… I truly don’t know how bad you’d become…”

The Demon King’s bloody name should never be mentioned, but Yan Ting spoke it lightly and casually, completely disregarding court prohibitions. Though Luo Moshi was like an old monk facing the wall, these words still drilled into his ears. He was greatly shocked and quickly covered his ears, attempting to block out what he shouldn’t hear.

After about the time for a cup of tea, Yan Ting finally left. Luo Moshi put down his palms and continued examining the walls of civilian houses. Snow fluttered down, accumulating a thin layer on his bald head, but he dared not reach up to touch it. At this point, no matter who the “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman” was or who the “secret mistress” was, he knew nothing about anything. Even if someone came to torture him severely, he would be like looking for Yue Fei in Zhang Fei’s house—never heard of any of it.

Just as he was pretending to be dead, he suddenly heard footsteps again as a woman slowly approached the cart. Luo Moshi’s heart jumped, thinking Yan Ting had returned. He quickly stole a glance and saw this woman wearing coarse cloth dress and skirt with a bamboo hat—where was the gorgeous beauty, the number one beauty of the capital? This was just an ordinary village girl, probably a local resident going home.

The village girl carried a bundle and walked with her head down. Passing the alley entrance, she suddenly stopped and looked left and right, as if checking whether the address was correct. Luo Moshi thought, “So she’s here to visit friends.”

On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, small common people lived small, quiet, peaceful lives. Luo Moshi had experienced great storms throughout his life—dying and living again, living and dying again. Though he hadn’t ascended to heaven, he had achieved enlightenment. At this moment, he didn’t want to disturb others and lowered his head to silently recite Buddha’s name.

Just then, the Grand Manager looked up and gazed at the village girl with a smile, “New Year is coming—buy some pastries to eat.”

The Grand Manager spoke to attract customers—probably to seduce women again. Indeed, the village girl hesitated for a long while. Looking at her simple, crude dress, it was unclear whether she had money. She looked at the Grand Manager for a long while and softly asked, “Excuse me, shopkeeper, is this Copper Gong Alley’s… ” She said this much, then looked down at a paper slip in her hand and continued, “Green Bamboo Lane?”

Luo Moshi was originally indifferent, but suddenly hearing this woman speak, he couldn’t help exclaiming. Her gentle, soft voice was leisurely and light, with perfect pronunciation—it didn’t sound like a village girl’s accent at all. Seeing that the village girl could even read, his heart was filled with great doubt! The Grand Manager seemed not to notice and smiled, asking, “Yes, this is indeed Green Bamboo Lane. Are you looking for someone?” The Grand Manager had previously mixed his accent when speaking with his wife to conceal his identity. Now that he no longer changed his voice, he returned to his clear Beijing accent, sounding extremely melodious and pleasant.

The village girl didn’t mind. She leaned against the wall and stared into the alley, saying faintly, “Excuse me, shopkeeper, is there a Scholar’s Forest Study in Green Bamboo Lane?” Scholar’s Forest Study was the bookshop established by the Gu father and daughter in earlier years. At that time, because of the Third Case of Zhengtong, it had caused the emperor’s thunderous rage and forced the Grand Manager into difficult positions, causing him much suffering. Hearing this woman actually coming to visit the study, Luo Moshi’s heart trembled. He glanced at the village girl and repeatedly examined her appearance, wondering what connection this woman had with Miss Gu.

The Grand Manager, hearing her purpose, smiled and said, “What bad timing—Miss Gu has already married. Scholar’s Forest Study is now closed and only teaches children painting. Well… look…” He raised his hand and pointed to the humble house in the alley, “She’s right there. You can go over.”

Snow and frost fell in the afternoon. The distant house looked very warm, and children’s laughter could be faintly heard. The village girl stared but hesitated to move forward. The Grand Manager smiled, “What’s wrong? You’re not going over after all?” The village girl sighed and shook her head, “No, looking from afar is enough. I don’t know Miss Gu—I just heard friends mention some things about her…” The Grand Manager lowered his head to organize pastries and asked, “You’ve heard about her? Was it about her grinding and selling soy milk, or opening the study to print books?”

“No… not these things…” The village girl gazed at the house in the alley. She lowered her bamboo hat and shook her head, “What I heard… were all happy things…” Hearing this, the Grand Manager immediately looked up and asked quietly, “You mean she’s not happy now?”

The village girl stared and sighed, “I don’t know… that’s why I wanted to come see…” Speaking thus, she was about to leave. At this moment, the Grand Manager took something from his chest and slowly placed it on the pastries. Immediately the sweet cakes deformed under the weight, and the entire cart creaked. Luo Moshi could see clearly—it was an iron gall, a blue iron gall that was also the world’s number one divine sword, called “Dragon Capture”!

Suddenly seeing this world’s sharpest weapon, Luo Moshi couldn’t help trembling. First, he didn’t know why the Grand Manager had brought out the Dragon Capture Sword; second, he didn’t know who this village girl really was. His mind swirled with thoughts of “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman” and “Karmic Fire Demon Blade”—indescribably chaotic and confused. Just as he was panicking, the Grand Manager looked up with a smile and said, “This lady, please wait.” The village girl exclaimed and indeed stopped, turning to look at the Grand Manager. Seeing her turn around and reveal her face under the bamboo hat, Luo Moshi also took the opportunity to peek.

First glance at her lips—she had proper cherry lips on a snow-white, delicate chin, making her appear very dignified and proper. Second glance at her nose—it wasn’t very high but gently soft like a moon bridge over stars. Luo Moshi looked once and could already guess her temperament was very good. A small matter could probably make her smile charmingly—she must have a naturally gentle nature.

Just as he was looking, he heard the Grand Manager smile and say, “This lady, I’ve been setting up stall here for years and am very familiar with the Yang family. If you’re afraid of intruding presumptively, why don’t you let me arrange it for you?” The village girl smiled slightly and said joyfully, “You know her family? That would be wonderful… Then do you also know her… her…” The Grand Manager smiled, “You mean her father, Minister Gu? Of course I know him.” Hearing the name of the Gu family’s old master, the village girl nodded and said softly, “Mm… I’ve also heard about Minister Gu’s affairs. But what I want to ask about is… is…” She seemed hesitant, as if wanting to speak but stopping. The Grand Manager smiled encouragingly, “Come on, tell me. Whose affairs do you want to know about? Mrs. Gu, Second Concubine, Xiao Hong, Manager Liu…” He mentioned a string of names, then casually picked up the Dragon Capture Sword with a smile, “Or Lu Yun?”

Suddenly hearing the two words “Lu Yun,” the village girl couldn’t help crying out. She immediately raised her face, revealing that snow-crystal clear countenance. Seeing her appearance, Luo Moshi also let out a low exclamation.

The face under the bamboo hat didn’t look like a village woman at all. She was too striking—this had nothing to do with her appearance but rather she had an indescribable dignified bearing. Without needing jewelry or brocade clothes to set it off, she already made people feel she was of extremely high birth. No matter what ragged clothes she wore, no matter where she was—in humble alleys or taverns—she could always make people see her at first glance and then stare involuntarily, yet not dare approach casually.

In short, a banished immortal from heaven—this otherworldly beauty who didn’t partake of mortal food must come from Tusita Heaven, which was why she could remain unstained by dust and untroubled by worries. Without doubt, she was the “Nation-Protecting Heavenly Woman” that the Grand Manager had been waiting for!

The heavenly woman appeared. Luo Moshi was naturally shocked throughout his body. Seeing this beautiful woman’s appearance, he understood why the Grand Manager had wanted him to accompany him. He also clearly knew that the heavenly woman indeed had a kind of magical power sufficient to subdue demons and evil, to pacify Nucang.

The alley was completely quiet. The village girl trembled all over as she said in a shaking voice, “You… you said you know that Lu… Lu…”

The heavenly woman’s voice trembled—apparently her emotions were greatly stirred. The Grand Manager smiled and continued, “Of course I know him. I even spoke with him before.” He gripped the divine sword and slowly emerged from behind the cart, saying gently, “This young lady, I guess you must want to know his whereabouts, right?” The cherry lips under the bamboo hat trembled slightly as she said softly, “You… you tell me…”

“About ten years ago on an afternoon, he left this joyful residence… and began his final journey.”

“Final journey…” The village girl’s eyes filled with tears as she murmured quietly, “He… where did he go?”

“Don’t be sad for him. He went to a distant place, but it was also where he should go…”

The sky was overcast, snow grew heavier, and flakes fell into the alley, covering the distant sounds of children’s laughter. The Grand Manager’s voice turned low as he said faintly, “He left… because he developed an illness… that made him unable to control himself, made him constantly hear strange voices… Those voices urged him to go to that nameless, distant place. The top scholar’s cap couldn’t save him, his beloved fiancée couldn’t call him back, his sworn brothers couldn’t help him either… Everyone could only watch helplessly as his figure gradually departed, watch him fall off the cliff and offer himself to the White Water Falls… Look… look at the night sky…”

The village girl began trembling. She raised her face to look toward the vast heavens. Lanterns were first lit, and at year’s end snow fell. Cold stars sparkled in the night sky as if scattered with the tears of gods and Buddhas. The Grand Manager sighed and said softly, “Every time I look up at the night sky, I see him… see him with tears streaming down his face, silently asking me: Is there still heavenly reason in the world? Is there still justice between heaven and earth?” Two lines of tears rolled down from under the bamboo hat. The village girl hugged her own shoulders and was already sobbing audibly. She choked out, “You… how do you answer him?”

“I say…” The Grand Manager removed his human skin mask and smiled, “If there were justice in the world, what would I be busy with?”

Hearing this, the village girl was shocked and quickly looked up, saying in a trembling voice, “You… who exactly are you?”

“Me…” The snow mist dispersed, revealing a man kneeling on the ground. He knelt on one knee, back straight and upright, smiling, “My name is Yang Suguan, also known as the one who creates Buddha realms.”

At dusk, the snow clouds at the horizon changed colors in five hues. Subtle footsteps came from the rooftop, as if a small cat was passing by. Just then, year-end firecrackers exploded, and fireworks crackled across the street in continuous crackling sounds, covering the cat’s light footsteps.

Yang Suguan ignored the surrounding changes, only kneeling on the ground with handsome eyes looking back, allowing that completely unfamiliar Heavenly Woman to examine him.

The two were separated by mere inches, their breath mingling. The heavenly woman looked down, and for a moment couldn’t help crying out in surprise.

The man before her was like herself—very beautiful, very jade-like and dignified… He also had hair black as the night sky and skin as white as mountain snow, the black and white so distinct like gods and Buddhas descended from Tusita Heaven, so bright that people dared not stare directly yet could not bear to look away.

“Your Highness.” Lord Yang was cultured and polite. He raised his handsome face and asked, “Do I look like a bad person?”

“No… you don’t look like a bad person…” The heavenly woman’s face was covered with rosy clouds as she turned her head away and sighed softly. Lord Yang smiled slightly and was about to stand when he heard the heavenly woman’s cherry lips part again to say, “But you look like a bad man.”

Bang—a loud sound as firecrackers exploded across the street in continuous bursts, as if a skyrocket was mixed among the firecrackers, making one’s ears numb. Luo Moshi was startled and quickly looked around, surprised to see a wisp of light smoke rising from the treetops across the street in the dim sky. White clouds curled upward toward the blue sky, also showing him something he knew best—a bullet.

The first person to introduce firearms to the Central Plains was Luo Moshi himself. He knew better than anyone what that wisp of smoke meant. He shouted loudly, “Grand Manager! Get out of the way!” and immediately rushed toward the Grand Manager.

In the smoke, firecracker paper scattered as the bullet flew through the air. But Luo Moshi was a step too late—he lunged forward one foot while it flew ten zhang, instantly piercing through snowflakes into the small alley, reaching one foot behind the Grand Manager.

At the critical moment of life and death, the small cat on the rooftop leaped into the air. With claws extended, a sleeve force swept by, blocking the Grand Manager’s retreat.

Two waves of surprise attacks came like lightning. In that crucial moment, slender white fingers moved, blue light soared skyward, and half a sleeve fluttered and fell to the ground in mid-air. On the quiet New Year’s Eve evening, the firecrackers across the street finally stopped. The Grand Manager swung his arm back, holding the Dragon Capture Sword high. Unlike ten years ago by the Yongding River when he knelt and wept, this time there was no blood, no tears—only that precious blue long robe, proudly defiant, as if declaring to the world’s million strong enemies: “Heaven hears what I hear, heaven sees what I see. The divine sword’s master rules over all under heaven.”

The assassin’s close combat strike missed and immediately withdrew. The Grand Manager held the Dragon Capture Sword in one hand and looked back at the treetops across the street. Moments later, the gun formation also began to retreat. The alley returned to peace, and the Grand Manager’s expression also became calm. He walked slowly to the village girl and immediately shook out his long robe, kneeling down on one knee again.

“Reporting to Princess Yinchuan.” Yang Suguan knelt on the ground, raised his neck, cupped his hands, and bowed solemnly: “Your minister Yang Suguan, First Rank Grand Secretary of Zhongji Hall, respectfully welcomes Your Highness’s return to the country. Respectfully, diligently, faithfully, and loyally thanking heavenly grace. Long live Your Highness, long live, long live.”

Heavy snow fell on the jade-like man and woman. Yang Suguan fell silent again and became that outstanding powerful minister. The heavenly woman also spoke no more, only quietly gazing at the divine sword master kneeling on the ground. The faint winter daylight made their skin whiter than snow. If not for the previous murderous atmosphere, they would simply be a perfect couple—the noble and beautiful daughter of the Jade Emperor and the handsome, distinguished earthly minister, flawless and perfectly matched, as if made by heaven and earth.

With such beauty before them, poetic sentiment arose all around. The princess suddenly made a soft sound, feeling a strong arm come through her legs, lifting her up and holding her close to Lord Yang’s chest. The thirty-six-year-old bad man smiled slightly and asked, “Your Highness, if I claimed to be a good man, would you believe me?” The heavenly woman no longer showed hostility. She pressed her finger to her cheek, tilted her head to examine the Asura King before her, and smiled, “You can’t ask me that—you should ask your wife.”

“Your Highness, oh Your Highness!” The bad man who wasn’t a bad person looked up to heaven and laughed loudly, “If you speak like that, my wife is going to be angry!”