Chapter Forty-Two: Capture

(Special thanks to [Illusory Xuruo] for the generous reward of 1,500 coins!)

Suddenly, a long, piercing howl split the air.

“Huo Boru! Even if I die, I’ll drag you down with me!”

“Hmph! Remnant of the Crimson Sect, if you surrender now, I’ll grant you a quick death!”

The voices crackled like thunder.

“Crimson Sect operatives lurking on Vermilion Bird Street?” Qin Yi was a little surprised.

The rebellions in the four counties bore traces of the Crimson Sect’s involvement, but to think they had infiltrated Jiangning Commandery itself—this city was not as safe as it seemed!

A quarter-hour later, the shouts and clashes from neighboring Vermilion Bird Street finally faded. Another quarter-hour after that, He Xiongjian, covered in blood, walked over.

“Search everyone on Huarong Street. If you find anyone suspicious, take them away immediately!”

“Yes, Chief.”

Soon, two squads began a thorough search of Huarong Street.

An hour later.

Qin Yi followed the main force as they regrouped. Passing by the entrance to Vermilion Bird Street, he saw dozens of corpses scattered within, many bristling with arrows.

“I just played a minor part,” Qin Yi thought to himself.

That afternoon, the commandery office announced a major piece of news: that morning, fifty-nine Crimson Sect remnants had been hunted down and killed on Vermilion Bird Street—including the death of a hall leader.

Beneath the proclamation was an offer: any report of Crimson Sect members would earn a reward of one hundred taels of silver!

The afternoon slipped away. Wang Xishan led Qin Yi and the other eight newcomers on a tour of the authorities’ offices, giving them a feel for the place before the shift ended.

At home.

“Fourth Son, where were you all day?” Qin Zumin asked anxiously.

“I went to apply for a position as a constable. I’m officially one now.”

“A constable? Isn’t that dangerous work?”

“It’s fine. I have the strength to protect myself, and I need to find a job anyway,” Qin Yi reassured him.

“Well, that’s true,” Qin Zumin conceded, dropping the subject.

The next morning, Qin Yi rose early, had a large bowl of lamb offal noodles at a breakfast stall by the street, and headed in for duty.

In the constables’ quarters.

Captain Lei Yongyuan, after roll call, began assigning tasks.

“Wang Xishan, take your eight newcomers and patrol Wanxiang Street!”

“Yes, Captain.” Wang Xishan saluted and led the men out.

...

Wanxiang Street.

Inside a small inn.

“Manager, do you have any suspicious guests staying here?” Wang Xishan slammed his regulation broadsword onto the counter, his expression fierce.

“Oh, officer, what are you saying? All our guests have travel permits—no suspicious people here!” the plump-faced manager said obsequiously.

“You don’t get to decide that—I do. Call down every guest; I want to check them one by one. This inspection, I’d say, will take a few hours at least!” Wang Xishan squinted at him.

“This... Officer, surely we can talk this over,” the manager stammered, quickly fetching a string of copper coins from a drawer and slipping it into Wang Xishan’s hand. If the inspection really lasted hours, no new guests would dare set foot in the place.

Wang Xishan weighed the coins—about one hundred and twenty wen, by his estimate. Not a huge sum, but steady streams make a river.

“Hmm, you don’t look like you’re lying. I’ll let this go. Brothers, let’s move.” With that, Wang Xishan strode out the door.

The others followed.

Once outside, Wang Xishan deftly untied the string of coins and handed each person ten wen.

“Thanks, Brother Wang!”

“Thank you, Brother Wang.” Everyone grinned as they took their share.

Qin Yi accepted his coins, thinking to himself that now he understood why even those with second-rank cultivation would apply to be constables. The official monthly salary was only five taels, but the perks from patrolling the streets could add up.

A little here, a little there—by month’s end, the sum was quite respectable!

“No need for thanks. We’re all colleagues now; we need to look out for each other,” Wang Xishan said evenly.

“Brother Wang’s right!”

“Brother Wang, there’s another inn over there—much bigger and fancier than this one!” Yang Huanchang pointed to a place called Four Seas Inn, his eyes gleaming.

“We won’t bother with that one. It’s got backing,” Wang Xishan whispered.

“Huh?” The others were baffled.

“What are you surprised about? Stick with me and learn. If you start collecting bribes at random and run into someone with connections, you’ll regret it,” Wang Xishan warned.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“Let’s find a tea stall for a drink—this heat is relentless!”

They soon found a roadside tea stall. Seeing a group of constables approach, the owner hurried over with tea and water.

“Brother Wang, are there any martial schools in the commandery that teach sixth-rank techniques?” Qin Yi asked.

He couldn’t learn sixth-rank martial arts from the Fangxian Dao Sect, so he planned to look elsewhere. He’d inquired before—here at the constables’ office, the best techniques were only second or third rank, and required merit to access. He wasn’t interested.

“Sixth-rank martial arts schools?” Wang Xishan looked at Qin Yi.

“Yes.”

“To my knowledge, there are two martial schools in the city with sixth-rank techniques. One is called Mighty Elephant Martial Hall; their signature art is Elephant Strength! But learning it isn’t easy—you need to pay five hundred taels tuition!”

“Five hundred taels?” Qin Yi currently had just over one hundred left.

“That’s outrageous!” Yang Huanchang scoffed.

“And that’s not all. The special medicines they sell are also expensive—you’d better have at least a thousand taels if you want to train there. But they also offer two fifth-rank techniques, at two hundred taels each,” Wang Xishan explained.

“What about the other school?” Qin Yi asked.

“The other is called Chasing Moon Martial Hall. Their signature art is Meteor Chasing Moon Step. Tuition is three hundred taels, and their secret medicines are also pricey—one tael per dose! You’ll need one dose a day, thirty a month, that’s three hundred and sixty a year!”

“No one can afford that!” Qin Yi sighed.

The others all voiced their agreement.

However—

“Three hundred taels is still much cheaper than at Mighty Elephant,” Qin Yi thought. Most people devoted their lives to mastering only one or two techniques, so movement arts were less popular and therefore cost less.

As for the expensive medicines, he didn’t care. As long as he could get the basics down, he’d be satisfied!

In the days that followed, Qin Yi spent his time patrolling with colleagues, chasing after petty thieves, or handling minor disputes—life was peaceful enough.

In the Twelfth Squad’s constables’ office.

Captain Lei Yongyuan finished reading a letter, his expression growing grave.

“This message was sent by the local constable from Lijia Town. The fifteen-man team we dispatched yesterday—has gone missing!”