Chapter Eleven: Helplessness

Bai Li Feihong did not pause for even a moment as he hurried toward the Four Seas Martial Hall.

He intended to avoid the people of the Four Seas Hall, yet he felt a deep attachment to the place.

Master Wu Sihai was an honest and warm-hearted man. The reason he was able to learn the Four Seas Fist in such a short time was because Wu Sihai had noticed his poverty, saw his desire to master a skill for self-defense, and thus arranged for his sixth senior brother, Zhang Qianshan, to teach him everything he knew.

Once a teacher, forever a father. Bai Li Feihong's heart was heavy, weighed down with sorrow.

Since crossing into this world, there were few people he truly recognized, who caught his eye and for whom he felt genuine affection. Wu Sihai was one such person, worthy of his respect. Though their time together was brief, the help he received was immense.

On Changsheng Street, all businesses had temporarily closed. White banners hung from every doorway. The constables had sealed off the martial hall where the incident occurred. The Demon Suppression Bureau had already arrived at the scene, with Gongyang Yan personally leading the team.

The martial halls on Changsheng Street had produced countless disciples. Anyone in Dongbin City who practiced martial arts must have trained at one of these halls.

“What a pity,” Gongyang Yan said with admiration, gazing at Wu Sihai’s lifeless body lying in a pool of blood. “A mere mortal, yet he wounded a demon and burned his life away to resist until the very end. This is the spirit our human race should possess—when facing fearsome demons, one must have the heart to fight.”

On the ground, a single drop of blood radiated an otherworldly crimson light, its strange glow consuming all surrounding illumination.

“My lord, his name is Wu Sihai. The Four Seas Martial Hall was his family’s legacy. Yet he led the way in something the halls on Changsheng Street had always resisted—he established the apprenticeship system,” Zheng Yishan explained, his expression somber, deeply mourning Wu Sihai’s death.

“The apprenticeship system? I see, so it was his doing. Give him a proper burial. Wu Sihai was a true man and made great contributions to the martial destiny of Dongbin City,” Gongyang Yan replied, well-aware of the system.

Under the apprenticeship system, there were no longer the traditional ties between master and disciple. If you liked the Four Seas Fist, you paid and learned it. If, the next day, you preferred another hall’s techniques, you could apply to study elsewhere, and no one would stop you.

With the introduction of this system, the number of martial artists on Changsheng Street surged. One only needed to pay to learn—knowledge could be bought, not determined by relationships.

Many who wanted to practice martial arts feared that joining a hall would make them beholden to it, trapped by obligation. The apprenticeship system eliminated this concern. If you were dissatisfied, you could leave and switch paths without trouble. If you felt you had mastered your art, you could simply apply to graduate and no longer pay fees.

“This drop of blood is crucial, and it exudes a demonic power that can affect the environment. If left untreated, in three to five days, under its influence, terrifying anomalies might arise,” Gongyang Yan said gravely, though a hint of satisfaction colored his words. Zheng Yishan understood immediately—they would take the blood back to the Demon Suppression Bureau, study it, and then either seal it away or destroy it.

“My lord, forgive my ignorance, but what kind of demon is this? What is its strength?” Zheng Yishan asked respectfully.

“Judging from the demon’s wounded blood, it is a Night Demon, and its power level should be higher than yours,” Gongyang Yan replied, without specifying how much higher.

“Night Demons delight in devouring human hearts. Now, the people of our city are in a state of panic, merchants are fleeing in droves, all fearing demon attacks. The Governor has already sent word: the destruction of a martial hall by a demon has dealt a severe blow to Dongbin City. We must solve this quickly and find the Night Demon,” Zheng Yishan said with a heavy heart.

The Demon Suppression Bureau had recently been recruiting new members, causing much discontent among the city’s officials. Rumors abounded that Gongyang Yan was using her family’s influence to seize control of Dongbin City, sidelining the Governor.

“The Demon Suppression Bureau has no need to heed the Governor’s whims,” Gongyang Yan said coldly.

In recent years, the Bureau’s authority had waned, partly due to the Emperor’s obsession with immortality. Now that the Emperor was ill, his court was filled with treacherous ministers who sought to infringe upon the Bureau’s power.

But the Demon Suppression Bureau had withstood seven centuries of tempests in the Yuan Dynasty; it would not be swayed by the words of a few schemers. The only concern was interference from the thousand-year-old clans or opportunistic sects that might attack the Bureau.

Regardless, the Night Demon must be captured and brought to the Demon Suppression Prison for judgment.

Few demons ever made it that far—most were slain during pursuit, sparing further trouble.

“I only fear that some generals in the city, recruited by the Governor, might oppose us,” Zheng Yishan said, well aware that the city’s garrison was a separate entity but acted on the Governor’s orders. If the military decided to oppose the Bureau, the Demon Suppression Bureau’s position in Dongbin City could be severely threatened.

“It’s simple—cut them down and the threat is ended,” Gongyang Yan said, a glint of killing intent in her icy expression.

Zheng Yishan shivered. Perhaps, Gongyang Yan had already harbored such intentions when she was appointed to the Bureau in Dongbin City. If he had defied her authority, he would likely already be a soul beneath her blade.

“My lord, Inspector Zhang Jingzhong of the Constabulary requests an audience.”

Ding Bo, clad in the Bureau’s dark ceremonial robes, stepped forward with respect.

“Inspector Zhang is here?” Zheng Yishan glanced at Gongyang Yan, but saw no change in her expression and sighed in relief.

“Show Inspector Zhang in,” Gongyang Yan said coolly.

“Yes, my lord.” Ding Bo cupped his fists and left the study.

Soon, hurried footsteps approached. Zhang Jingzhong, a portly man, moved with surprising speed, scarcely pausing for breath.

“Greetings, Director-General. Greetings, Lord Zheng,” he said, bowing deeply.

“Inspector Zhang, what brings you here? Are you trying to interfere in our case?” Zheng Yishan’s tone was stern, though he signaled Zhang Jingzhong not to overstep.

Zhang Jingzhong, shrewd as he was, understood at once. Though his own patron’s position had shifted, this was not a time to kick a man when he was down. Besides, certain unsavory matters had not yet been enough to unseat Zheng Yishan—if Zheng fell, he would be in dire straits as well.

“Director-General, Lord Zheng, I do not wish to meddle, but I have a case that appears to be somewhat related. After careful confirmation, I came to report,” Zhang Jingzhong said respectfully, beads of sweat appearing on his brow.

Standing before Gongyang Yan, a former Four-Blood Martial Master, he knew well the terrifying power she wielded—she could crush him with a mere flick of her finger.

“Oh? Do tell, Inspector. If your information is valuable, the Bureau’s rewards will be generous,” Gongyang Yan said with curiosity.

“The mistress of the Canal Transport Guild, Madam Zhang Fu, was murdered in her villa, along with her lover and two maids—both martial artists of the One-Blood level.”

“Get to the point,” Gongyang Yan interrupted, clearly uninterested in what sounded like a crime of passion—an ordinary case for the constables.

“Zhang Fu himself arrived before I did, removed Madam Zhang’s body, and destroyed much evidence. Nevertheless, I found clues on the victims. The killer was a Four-Blood Martial Master, trained in a martial art honed to perfection, and intimately familiar with Dongbin City,” Zhang Jingzhong reported, drenched in sweat, feeling as though Mount Tai pressed upon him. The aura Gongyang Yan exuded nearly floored him.

“I immediately ordered an investigation into the martial halls on Changsheng Street to identify any martial art, cultivated to its peak, that could produce a Four-Blood Martial Master.”

“Every martial hall offering such a practice has been attacked.”

“Are you certain?” Gongyang Yan had already discerned his implication—this was a vendetta. But with a demon’s involvement, the case took on a far graver significance: someone was manipulating demons.

Zheng Yishan grasped the meaning and his face grew even more solemn. This was far worse than mere demon killings.

“Director-General, last night, Zhang Fu took his family, boarded a steam-powered ironclad, sailed out to sea, and vanished,” Zhang Jingzhong reported.

“A cunning thief,” Gongyang Yan’s eyes shone with silvery light.

A steam-powered ironclad! Few overseas nations had the technology to build such ships. Two of them were currently contesting with the Yuan Navy for control of a crucial strait bordering the Devil’s Sea. Whoever controlled this strait held the key to bypassing the Devil’s Sea, shaping the fate of global maritime trade.

“Excellent. Your information is invaluable. You are hereby rewarded with a vial of Essence Blood Elixir and a top-tier martial art capable of reaching the Nine-Blood level,” Gongyang Yan declared, bestowing a lavish reward.

To the Bureau, such gifts were nothing, but to Zhang Jingzhong, they were treasures. Zhang Fu had dared to defy him only because he had cultivated seven streams of blood energy.

“Thank you, Director-General. Should you ever require my services, I am at your disposal, even unto death,” Zhang Jingzhong pledged, seizing the opportunity to declare his loyalty.

He understood well that the Director-General’s reward was meant to push him toward the Nine-Blood level. If he achieved it, he would be unrivalled within the Constabulary—strength determined status there as well.

“Inspector Zhang, you are impressive—keen, meticulous, able to deduce the truth from scant evidence. It’s clear you’re more than a mere greedy parasite; you’re a capable investigator,” Gongyang Yan acknowledged, realizing she had misjudged the portly inspector.

“These cases are no longer your concern. Hand them over to Zheng Yishan,” she added.

“Yes, my lord. I understand.” The scorching hot potato was finally passed on.

Zheng Yishan shot him a venomous look—he had been dragged into the mess. But this Canal Transport Guild…

“The Canal Transport Guild is anything but simple. The matter is grave and must not be taken lightly,” Gongyang Yan said, as if reading his thoughts, and did not urge Zheng Yishan to probe deeper.

The Imperial Canal Transport Bureau! Zheng Yishan was startled, suddenly recalling the bureau and realizing he had nearly provoked a force he should not have.

The director of the Yuan Empire’s Canal Transport Bureau was a eunuch, and that eunuch was a member of the Princess Royal’s household—the Emperor’s own full sister, greatly favored. The empire’s canal and salt transport bureaus were both under her control.

Gongyang Yan’s brief mention made it all clear: no wonder the Canal Transport Guild acted so brazenly—they were working for the bureau itself, not even bothering to hide their name.

Given this, the guild was far from simple.

“To move against them now would only alert them, but surveillance must continue. If the Canal Transport Guild is truly manipulating demons to commit murders, then its destruction is justified,” Gongyang Yan said coolly.

Currently, she acted under imperial command—such matters outweighed even the Princess Royal’s favor. Dongbin City could not be allowed to fall into chaos or destruction. The prophecy had to be averted:

It begins in blood: Dongbin destroyed, Yuan falls.

If Dongbin did not fall, could the Yuan still be doomed? Gongyang Yan did not know, but she understood that prophecies were elusive and insubstantial. Her only goal now was to eliminate all potential sources of upheaval before they could sprout.

Her strategy was stability—maintain order, diligently build the Bureau’s strength, and prepare for the dangers to come.

“Zhang Fu has fled, but the Night Demon remains. Zheng Yishan, fetch the Demon Compass. Use the blood as a guide and find it.”

She had hoped to lure out bigger fish, but with the Canal Transport Guild involved, the Night Demon must die. If it escaped Dongbin City, capturing it would become much more difficult.

“Yes, Lady Gongyang.” Zheng Yishan glanced at Zhang Jingzhong. “Inspector Zhang, come with me to the Bureau to collect your reward.”

“Thank you, Lord Zheng,” Zhang Jingzhong replied with a fist salute.

“Let me in! I’m Zhang Qianshan, an inner disciple of the martial hall!” came a clamor from the street, clearly audible within the Four Seas Hall.

“Allow the inner disciples of the Four Seas Hall to enter and claim the body. Be sure to instruct them: the body must be cremated to prevent any sinister transformation,” Gongyang Yan ordered Ding Bo.

“Yes, my lady, I will attend to it now.” Ding Bo, a newly recruited Demon Suppressor and nephew to the Deputy Director, was a young man of great promise and talent. As one of their own, he would be carefully cultivated.

Zhang Qianshan’s eyes were bloodshot, his face a mask of grief. He was about to force his way into the sealed Four Seas Hall when a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

“Sixth Brother, don’t do anything foolish,” Bai Li Feihong stopped his senior’s reckless move.

“Feihong, our master…” The usually cold and aloof Zhang Qianshan could no longer hold back his tears.

“With demons on the prowl, even we are nothing but slaughtered prey,” Bai Li Feihong sighed deeply.

Master Wu Sihai, who practiced the Blood River Saber, was a martial artist not inferior to the Six-Blood level. Yet against a demon, he proved powerless.

Zhang Qianshan’s grief turned to rage, but Bai Li Feihong’s words pierced him deeply, filling him with helplessness. His gaze dimmed as he looked toward the Four Seas Hall.

Other halls had already been unsealed and the bodies taken away—only the Four Seas Hall remained cordoned off.

“If we join the Demon Suppression Bureau, we can gain greater power and avenge Master,” Bai Li Feihong murmured.

A spark of light returned to Zhang Qianshan’s eyes.