Chapter Twenty-Six: The Bureau of Profound Illumination

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“Didn’t you say this was the Tongfu Inn? Why is the name different?” Outside the inn stood two men, one of whom Shen Lian recognized—it was the esteemed Prefect of Qingzhou.

He wore his usual attire and looked thoroughly puzzled.

The speaker was dressed in dark robes, his eyes bright and black as lacquer. A single lock of hair hung down from his left temple, partially obscuring his face, lending a cold, sharp expression. He appeared to be around thirty.

The Prefect said, “There’s no mistake. Perhaps the name was just changed. Let’s go inside and ask, then we’ll know.”

The man replied coldly, “You bureaucrats are all useless, sitting idle and eating your fill, yet even such a trivial matter escapes your grasp.”

The Prefect could only smile awkwardly, cursing inwardly: You’re nothing but a hound of the Xuanming Bureau, a tool of the emperor, so what are you so proud of?

Though he raged inside, he dared not voice his thoughts. In rank, the other was his equal, but as one of the emperor’s sharpest watchdogs, dispatched straight from the capital, it was best not to offend him.

True to his name, the Prefect only wished to quietly ride out his term as a parasite, gathering enough wealth to enjoy the rest of his life peacefully. The ambition of becoming a marquis or prime minister never even crossed his mind; as a third-tier scholar, such dreams were far beyond reach.

This Envoy of the Xuanming Bureau had come from the capital to take away the man in the green robe. For reasons unknown, though the matter had been reported and the official reply returned, the Bureau’s envoy had been delayed several days, arriving only now.

Shen Lian, being the last to see the man in the green robe and returning safely to the Shen family while the man vanished without a trace, naturally became the focus of the envoy’s inquiry.

Yet the Shen family held considerable local prestige. To publicly summon Shen Lian to the yamen would suggest an antagonism between the authorities and the Shen family—a misstep the seasoned Prefect would never make.

Understanding the stakes, he persuaded the envoy to seek Shen Lian discreetly at the inn.

Moreover, the envoy seemed disinclined to make a scene; he was only particularly interested in the green-robed man, a notorious outlaw known to both the Ministry of Justice and the Xuanming Bureau.

Members of the Xuanming Bureau, in truth, had countless connections with the world of martial arts. This envoy himself hailed from a martial sect, and his pursuit of the green-robed man was as much personal as official. He knew the man’s background and coveted his Divine Slayer Sword and Divine Step Manual; to claim he had no interest would be a lie.

******

Although Shen Lian was the inn’s nominal owner, the daily comings and goings were managed by Steward Wu.

Wu felt pained by Shen Lian’s decision to rename the century-old inn. Despite the Shen family’s vast wealth, such establishments represented more than mere value—they embodied heritage and enduring prosperity.

Yet the old master of the Shen family was a man of decisive character, having ordered that all matters concerning the inn fall under Shen Lian’s authority, without needing to consult him.

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Even the land deeds were kept with Shen Lian.

This place was truly Shen Lian’s private domain. Though Steward Wu wished to advise him, he could only swallow his words when faced with Shen Lian’s habitual, serene smile.

Those who stand high in the halls of power do not fret over the gains and losses of a single city; those who roam the margins of society do not calculate every penny.

The inn had three floors. Shen Lian resided in the highest, which was not yet open to guests.

Situated along the main street in one of the city’s busiest districts—the depths of the mortal world—the inn’s opposite buildings did not block the sunlight, which streamed through the window and onto Shen Lian, filling him with a sense of calm and peace.

Since his arrival in this world, Shen Lian was, for the first time, able to savor the reality of daily life.

Unlike the modern society of dazzling nightlife and endless social media, people here communicated mostly face-to-face.

The neighbors and locals, far from being awed by Shen Lian’s wealth, felt a greater sympathy for him, thanks to rumors about his origins.

Over the past three days, many had lent a hand, big or small, for the grand opening of “The Nowhere Inn.” After all, Shen Lian was an illegitimate son who had left the Shen family. Though he managed this venerable inn, to ordinary folk, he looked to have been cast out.

Such things, like drinking water, could only be understood by those who experienced them.

Footsteps interrupted Shen Lian’s contemplations—it was Steward Wu, accompanied by two outsiders.

Shen Lian reacted immediately, surprised that one of them was a martial artist of some skill, given how light his steps were. If Shen Lian had not been exceptional himself, he might have missed it.

A knock sounded at the door.

Shen Lian stood with hands behind his back, still facing the window, his back to the door, and said, “Come in.”

“Young master, you have distinguished guests.”

Steward Wu had nearly been startled upon recognizing the Prefect; he never expected the city’s most powerful official to visit the Shen family today, though the Shen family was constant while Prefects came and went.

Still, in name, this man had the most authority in Qingzhou, while Wu was only a servant to the Shen family; facing him, the pressure was enormous.

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But since the guests preferred discretion, Shen Lian did not need to personally descend to greet them, sparing any breach of etiquette.

Shen Lian turned and waved to Steward Wu, saying, “You may leave now.”

Wu wished to speak, but one look from Shen Lian sent him away obediently.

It was peculiar—though Shen Lian was young and never strict, Wu was not afraid of him, yet whenever Shen Lian issued an instruction, Wu instinctively obeyed. Even when he later doubted himself, seeing Shen Lian’s calm demeanor would leave him unable to say another word.

Shen Lian’s gaze first settled on the Prefect, then shifted to the Xuanming Bureau envoy.

The envoy, clad in dark robes with a sword at his side, had a faint aura of bloodlust about his brow, which made Shen Lian uneasy.

The Prefect greeted Shen Lian, saying, “Young friend Shen Lian, I hope you’ve been well. I haven’t yet had a chance to thank you for what happened last time. This is Lord Meng Han of the Xuanming Bureau in the capital; he wishes to ask you a few questions.”

His words were skillful—implying that he remembered the favor Shen Lian had done him, and that this visit was not to cause trouble, merely to inquire about something.

What about, Shen Lian would know.

He also named Meng Han’s origins, hoping Shen Lian would understand the gravity of the situation.

Having dealt with Shen Lian before, the Prefect knew that, though young, he was not to be underestimated.

Of course, if Shen Lian were ordinary, the Prefect would not owe him a favor.

Meng Han, seeing Shen Lian for the first time, could not help but silently admire him—he had not expected such a youth to emerge from this remote corner of Qingzhou.

But that was all. He said coldly, “Boy, explain to me what happened with that scoundrel Yang Xuan.”

ps: I may be slow to update extra chapters for recommendation tickets these days, but I remember them all. It's the New Year, and I have little time for writing. Please understand—last night’s update, in case you missed it, was posted around four in the morning, because the gathering ended at two and I then went to the internet café to write yesterday’s chapter. Finally, let me say: other authors might update several chapters a day. I could do that too, but writing quickly may benefit others, yet for me, even my current speed feels too fast.

It leaves little room for reflection. Writing is not like work; it cannot be mechanically repeated. Would you read something so formulaic? At least, I wouldn’t. I dare not claim my writing is exceptional, but I hope that someday I can tell others: Look, this is what I've written—and not feel ashamed.