Lu Chang'an followed the man in black out of the Supreme Court.
The snow had stopped, but water still dripped from the eaves. Each drop struck the stone steps, shattering into tiny ripples before vanishing. The capital after a snowfall resembled someone who had just washed his face with cold water: a little cleaner, but looking even worse.
The man in black walked ahead at an unhurried pace. Two rows of men wearing bronze masks followed behind him, not one of them saying a word.
After ten steps, Lu Chang'an asked:
“Sir.”
The man in black did not turn around.
“What is it?”
“Can I ask whether my new workplace is close to a cafeteria?”
“No.”
“Then is it close to a bathroom?”
“No.”
“Neither one is close?”
“The Demon Suppression Bureau is not an inn.”
“I understand. Inns at least have blankets.”
The man in black stopped.
He turned and looked at Lu Chang'an. His gaze was so cold it seemed capable of freezing the water in the drainage ditch.
“You're not afraid of me?”
“I am.”
“Then why do you keep talking?”
“Because fear doesn't make me smarter. Talking might.”
The two men in bronze masks behind them tilted their heads slightly. It was unclear whether they were surprised or trying not to laugh.
The man in black turned away.
“I am Wei Yuan.”
Lu Chang'an immediately changed his expression.
“So you're Lord Wei.”
“You know me?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know I'm an official?”
“Ordinary people don't have the kind of presence that makes others instinctively stand at attention.”
Wei Yuan looked at him.
Lu Chang'an clasped his hands, his voice sincere.
“Of course, the most important thing is that you're walking in front, with masked men escorting you. If you're not an official, then the people behind you are working overtime.”
Wei Yuan said nothing.
Lu Chang'an made a mental note: this man didn't like crude flattery. He didn't like subtle flattery either. He might like flattery disguised as objective analysis.
That made things easy.
Every superior had one thing in common: they wanted to hear that they were special, but they didn't want anyone to realize they were listening to flattery.
It was basic psychology.
The Demon Suppression Bureau stood north of the capital, behind three layers of black walls with no signboard. The gate was tall, and on either side were carvings of ferocious beasts coiling around fiery clouds. Deep claw marks scarred the stone steps, and they didn't look like cuts from swords or sabers.
Lu Chang'an looked up.
“Pretty distinctive decoration.”
One of the men in bronze masks beside him said:
“Those are the claw marks of a sixth-level monster.”
“So they're real?”
“You thought they were fake?”
“I figured government offices usually liked to make their signs a little too dramatic.”
The man fell silent.
Lu Chang'an stepped through the gate. A chill immediately brushed across his skin, carrying the smells of iron, incense, and something sweet and fishy, like dried blood. The interior was nothing like an ordinary government office. A martial training yard lay to the left, where dozens of people swung their blades. On the right stood a row of sealed rooms, their doors plastered with yellow talismans.
A low growl echoed from behind one of the doors.
Lu Chang'an stopped.
“Is that the guard dog?”
“A captured monster.”
“Does it get meals according to civil-service regulations?”
“Want to find out?”
“No. I was only asking whether I'd have to share my rations with it later.”
Wei Yuan continued walking as if he hadn't heard a thing.
Lu Chang'an realized one thing: the head of the Demon Suppression Bureau had excellent self-control. Or he was used to people who didn't talk like normal human beings.
A young official in red came running out to greet them.
“Sir, is this Lu Chang'an?”
“Mm.”
The young official looked him up and down. His gaze paused on the cuff marks still circling Lu Chang'an's wrists, then on the prison uniform he hadn't had time to change out of.
“A death-row prisoner?”
“He's with the Demon Suppression Bureau now.”
“He entered the office without even passing an examination?”
Lu Chang'an clasped his hands.
“This official is absolutely right. The Demon Suppression Bureau truly has remarkable vision when recruiting people. It doesn't care about background or clothing—only ability.”
The young official stared blankly.
Wei Yuan shot him a sideways glance.
Lu Chang'an immediately added:
“Of course, if you need to inspect my clothes too, I can borrow a set. But my ability is genuine merchandise, not silver-plated goods.”
The young official wanted to laugh but didn't dare. Wei Yuan raised an eyebrow.
“Take him to change, then bring him to the conference room.”
“Yes, sir.”
The young official led Lu Chang'an into a small room. Three sets of uniforms hung on a rack: the black uniform of a Bronze Gong, the silver uniform of a Silver Gong, and the purple uniform of a Gold Gong.
Lu Chang'an looked them over.
“I can choose freely?”
“Don't dream.”
“I was only asking so I'd know whether I needed to pretend to be modest.”
“Bronze Gong.”
“I understand. The lowest rank.”
“Bronze Gong means you're new.”
“That sounds more civilized. Like ‘intern.’”
The young official didn't understand.
Lu Chang'an pulled the black uniform over himself. It was a little loose in the shoulders, and the belt didn't fit properly either. He looked at his reflection in the dim bronze panel on the wall: the same young face, but the eyes were different now. Three days ago, he had been a man dragged off to await death. Now there was a small bronze badge on his shoulder, bought with one temporary reprieve.
Temporary.
He hadn't forgotten that.
The conference room smelled of old paper and bitter medicine. Wei Yuan sat behind a desk, with a thick stack of files beside him. A map of the capital hung on the wall, its various districts marked in red ink.
Wei Yuan pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Sit.”
Lu Chang'an sat down with his back straight and both hands resting on his knees.
Wei Yuan opened a file.
“Do you know why you're still alive?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you're a merciful man.”
“Wrong.”
“Because the court needs someone to solve cases.”
“Also wrong.”
“Because I'm handsome?”
Wei Yuan looked up.
“Can you be serious for a moment?”
“I can.” Lu Chang'an immediately changed his tone. “You saved me because I proved the silver had been switched, and the matter involves someone with access to the evidence vault. If you killed me, the only clue would disappear.”
Wei Yuan studied him for a moment.
“Correct.”
Lu Chang'an secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It was a safe answer. Not only was it correct, it also made his superior feel perceptive.
Wei Yuan continued:
“But don't think joining the Demon Suppression Bureau means you're off the hook. Your beheading has merely been postponed. If you don't render meritorious service within three months, the Lu family will still be dealt with according to the original case.”
“Three months?”
“Mm.”
“Do days off count?”
“The Demon Suppression Bureau has no days off.”
“Then is there overtime pay?”
Wei Yuan closed the file.
“Do you want to die right now?”
Lu Chang'an stood up and bowed deeply with his hands clasped.
“Your wisdom and martial prowess are unmatched, sir, and your bearing is extraordinary. Your eye for talent surpasses every hiring procedure. I'm only a new recruit—how would I dare discuss money?”
Wei Yuan said:
“Sit down.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You're very skilled at kissing up.”
Lu Chang'an sat down, his expression humble.
“I wouldn't go that far. I merely say aloud the truths others haven't gotten around to mentioning.”
“Have you ever been an official?”
“No.”
“Then where did you learn that?”
“In places where saying the wrong thing could get you killed.”
The conference room fell silent for a moment.
Wei Yuan looked at him longer this time.
Lu Chang'an understood that a joke could help people remember him, but a timely truth was what made them take him seriously.
Wei Yuan pushed a bronze badge across the table.
“This is your Bronze Gong command badge. Starting today, you're assigned to the Third Squad, under Hundred-household Captain Song Ji.”
Lu Chang'an picked up the badge. A claw was carved into the front, while his name was engraved on the back.
“Can I trade it for a silver badge?”
“No.”
“I was asking in advance to show my ambition.”
“Stop showing it.”
Wei Yuan took out another file and set it down in front of him.
“The Third Squad is short-handed. You'll join them in handling minor cases in the capital.”
Lu Chang'an flipped through a few pages.
“Do minor cases include man-eating monsters?”
“Yes.”
“Then what counts as a major case?”
“A monster that eats an entire county.”
Lu Chang'an nodded.
“Very intuitive classification system.”
Wei Yuan tapped his finger on the tabletop.
“At the Demon Suppression Bureau, you are not to investigate the silver case on your own. You are not to return to the Supreme Court and cause trouble. And you are not to use your status as a Bronze Gong to borrow money.”
“Is that last one a rule made specifically for me?”
“I can tell just by looking at you.”
“You certainly have an accurate eye for people, sir.”
“Get out.”
Lu Chang'an stood and bowed.
“Rest assured, sir. I definitely won't disappoint you.”
“I haven't placed any hopes on you.”
“Then I'll work hard to give you some soon.”
He turned and walked toward the door.
Wei Yuan suddenly called him back:
“Lu Chang'an.”
“At your service.”
“You didn't ask what case the Third Squad is investigating?”
Lu Chang'an turned around, his expression serious.
“I assumed you wanted to surprise me.”
Wei Yuan flung the file on the desk at him. Lu Chang'an caught it.
“Read it.”
Lu Chang'an lowered his head and looked at the cover.
It bore a single line:
“Drowning at Drunken Spring House.”
Before he could open it, someone shouted from the hallway:
“Lu Chang'an! The Third Squad is waiting!”
Lu Chang'an tucked the file inside his robe.
He turned to Wei Yuan and bowed once more.
“Rest assured, sir. I'll work hard, render meritorious service to atone for my crimes, and protect the Demon Suppression Bureau's reputation.”
Wei Yuan asked:
“Have you even read the file?”
“No.”
“Then how are you going to protect its reputation?”
“Through my attitude.”
Wei Yuan watched the door close behind him. For the first time that day, weariness showed on his face.
“Just what you'd expect from someone who walked out of death row.”
Out in the hallway, Lu Chang'an tugged at his collar and muttered under his breath:
“Superiors aren't scary. What's scary is a superior who won't give you a chance to kiss up.”
Beside him, a man in a bronze mask asked:
“What did you just say?”
“I said the official is truly wise.”
“You said it very quietly.”
“Truth usually doesn't need to be said loudly.”
The man stared at him for a long while, then suddenly burst out laughing.
Lu Chang'an laughed too.
He knew he had passed through the Demon Suppression Bureau's first door.
But the door behind it was the truly dangerous one.
In the file he'd just received, a courtesan had died underwater.
And the Third Squad was waiting for him to come look at the corpse.