Liao Chengfeng’s tone was rather cold; you could tell he seemed to have some criticism for Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng had already sat up from his lounge chair, his smile withdrawn, face serious as he said, "Lord Liao, I have my subordinates review the Commander’s Office’s official bulletins every day, and everytime there’s something new to grasp. It feels vaguely like those above are moving for real this time.

I know matters like this aren’t suited to a top-down approach, so ever since the Black Banner Battalion was established, I’ve granted enormous autonomy to the frontline, hoping chances to break the deadlock would emerge. The results have been lucky; the Li City Black Banner Battalion under our jurisdiction has repeatedly performed outstandingly, and just happens to align with the current winds from above. That’s when I conveniently put myself right in the eye of the storm.

Now the winds from above are getting fiercer and fiercer, so I believe it’s best to make a choice early. If I don’t want to die a meaningless death in future, staking my life and fortune this time isn’t unreasonable."

With Jiang Cheng’s words finished, the once relaxed greenhouse instantly chilled a few degrees. That tone and phrasing already counted as a kind of "arguing" with Liao Chengfeng.

Liao Chengfeng stared at Jiang Cheng, who kept his eyes lowered and demeanor respectful, saying nothing, just watched him like that. After quite a while, he sighed and lay back in his chair, closing his eyes, while Lian Xiang hurried over to massage his forehead, hands trembling—though she didn’t realize that everyone in the greenhouse, even Jiang Cheng himself, had a thin layer of sweat on their foreheads.

"Our Xuanqing Guard might look impressive, but in reality, you all know how much abuse we take. Who among us didn’t climb up from a pile of bones, at the cost of nine deaths for one life? Now the court’s winds are chaotic, and everyone just wants to protect themselves, afraid to be collateral damage. But you—well, you went and handed the knife master right to their hands."

"Ah, you really acted recklessly this time."

Liao Chengfeng was still expressing his dissatisfaction, but his tone was no longer as icy as before, and the oppressive aura about him seemed to fade away entirely.

"Heh heh, Lord Liao, isn’t it because you’re still here to bear the brunt for us? And besides, even if we hand over the knife master to those above, the blade’s not swinging at us. No matter how many die, it won’t land on our heads."

"What if...those above lose? Have you thought through the consequences?"

Jiang Cheng laughed heartily, shook his head, and said, "I’m just a grassroots nobody, been gambling all the way up, never lost before, so I never bother thinking about what if I lose."

"Enough, enough. You’re part of my line, there’s no shaking you off. Since things have come to this, go ahead and act as you see fit; if there’s any pressure you can push it onto me. But I’ll warn you, since you’ve chosen, don’t turn tail halfway. Otherwise..."

"Rest assured, Lord. I’m stubbornly loyal, would never do any of that fickle, dirty stuff."

"Mm, then so much the better."

When night wore on, Liao Chengfeng and the other two did not choose to stay overnight, but instead rode off by carriage straight back to the Imperial City, apparently afraid to linger outside for too long.

Once the three Bosses left, Shen Hao could clearly sense Jiang Cheng relax; even the way he sprawled on the chair became noticeably more natural.

"Go, get us some real food, and two more jars of wine. Not that fruit wine, the strong stuff—go fetch it."

After seeing off the guests, Jiang Cheng immediately ordered people to prepare more midnight snacks. The previous feast hadn’t filled up either him or Shen Hao, nor quenched their thirst.

Lian Xiang hadn’t left either, still serving nearby, a smile in her eyes as though she knew Jiang Cheng’s preferences well. She grinned and ordered herself a small bowl of plain noodle soup, saying she wanted some late-night snack too after watching Shen Hao and Jiang Cheng eat so ravenously.

"Alright, now we can finally eat and drink freely. Come, Shen Hao, let’s go for one!"

"Yes, Lord!"

This time they didn’t use the delicate cups, but Jiang Cheng’s favorite horn cups; they drained them in one gulp. Half a catty at once—nothing for Jiang Cheng and Shen Hao.

One bowl of noodles each, two catties of stewed pig’s feet down the hatch—finally full.

Outside the greenhouse, under the night wind, the songstresses from the Flower Boat were savvy enough not to follow; at the bow were only Jiang Cheng and Shen Hao.

"You must’ve heard of Liao Chengfeng—one of the four Governors of the Xuanqing Guard in the Imperial City, oversees all Xuanqing Guard affairs in Jingxi, and holds oversight over the local Garrison Army—power stacked to the heavens. He started out in the military, but unlike me, who’s a loose cultivator and self-taught, he’s got backing; his master is a Royal Golden Sword Cultivator..."

Earlier we talked about the Wen Family—you know that’s your case. Tell me your current thoughts."

Shen Hao had been pondering in his mind; now, hearing Jiang Cheng ask, he replied, "Lord, Wen Renhai from the Wen Family absolutely broke the law, and it’s a serious crime. If we ignore all exterior factors, thirty years in prison would be no problem at all. Besides, he pissed me off, and I’d be more than glad to lock him up for life."

"Heh. Do you understand Wen Family’s background?"

"I’ve asked around a bit. The Wen Family is powerful, is a vassal cultivation race of Celestial Prosperity Valley, controls a Spirit Stone Vein, and is connected with the Jingbei Army."

"That’s not all. Wen Family is an old vassal cultivation race, deeply rooted, tangled relationships throughout the Dynasty. Not only close with the Jingbei Army, but all over the local sphere they’re mixed up in things with depths you can’t see through; in court there are plenty of people helping them handle trouble too."

"Yes, I heard Wen Family Patriarch Wen Hong’s primary wife is the daughter of the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue."

"If you know this much, then can you tell me why, even though you’ve locked up their son for so many days, you haven’t received any internal order to let him go?"

"Please enlighten me, Lord." Shen Hao had guessed some reasons, but still bowed his head to ask.

"Bringing you to this gathering tonight was exactly for this lesson. You heard what Governor Liao said to me while drinking tea, right?"

"I heard."

"He used a great phrase, ’the eye of the storm.’ Heh, now it’s not just me standing there—you, Shen Hao, aren’t you there as well? Same for Chen Yiyun and Tang Qingyuan.

Lots of things are beyond your reach—even for me, news from the Temple Hall comes slow, since I’m far from it. Tonight, I’ll lay it all out for you.

At the top of our Xuanqing Guard sits Pang Ban, Lord Pang—a Senior Third Grade Official. But above Third Grade are Junior Second Grade, Senior Second Grade, Junior First Grade, and Senior First Grade. Compared to the Three Dukes in the Temple Hall, Lord Pang’s title is well short. Yet in the Temple Hall, Lord Pang glares like a tiger, sharp as an eagle—few dare mess with him. You know why?"

"Is it because the Xuanqing Guard is Your Majesty’s direct personal guard, so people don’t provoke lightly?"

"Heh, exactly! The Xuanqing Guard forms its own system, belongs directly to Your Majesty, and is his personal guard, his claws. With Your Majesty’s power behind us, Lord Pang gets to stand tall and contend with the court without yielding an inch. But precisely because of our special status, and the vast power granted by Your Majesty, we attract a lot of resentment; people think we’re unchecked, that we’re so big and unwieldy we might even become a disaster.

The Black Banner Battalion was only established because opposition was rising higher and higher."