Chapter Sixty-Eight: A New Murder Case

Hearing Fang Mu’s words, Li Gun was half in doubt. “Really?”

“It’s true,” Fang Mu replied with certainty.

Li Gun took a sip of wine, confusion written all over his face. “That shouldn’t be the case.”

Li Gun prided himself on his keen judgment of character. His impression of Fang Mu had always been ambiguous, neither good nor evil—when did he become so righteous?

“Could this be what the Superintendent meant by wildness?” Li Gun muttered to himself.

“What do you mean by wildness?” Fang Mu asked, intrigued by this new term from Li Gun.

Li Gun suddenly understood. “Ah, that… Among the Superintendents of the Heaven-Watching Bureau, one once classified people into four types: Knight, Evil, Wild, and Deviant.”

“It’s easy to understand Knight and Evil. Deviant is someone who wavers between the two and may tip toward evil at the slightest provocation. Wild is also someone who wavers, but leans more toward justice.”

“Hmm…” Fang Mu pondered, suddenly catching a detail. “There’s more than one Superintendent in your Heaven-Watching Bureau?”

The Superintendent should be the highest rank within the Bureau’s five levels—how could there be several?

Li Gun nodded. “The Bureau isn’t ruled by a single voice. The Superintendents complement each other’s strengths and compensate for each other’s weaknesses.”

By now, the two had been drinking for quite some time, and night was falling.

Although Fang Mu had agreed with an air of righteousness, even refusing any gesture of gratitude, Li Gun couldn’t help but notice the brand-new scabbard hanging naturally at Fang Mu’s waist. With sharp perception, he decided not to mention it.

“It’s late. I should get going.” Li Gun handed over a slip of paper, cupped his fists, and said, “I’ll leave this matter to you, Brother Fang. If you discover anything, you can find the contact point listed here. They’ll reach me as soon as possible.”

Fang Mu accepted the paper and tucked it into his wooden box.

Having finished, Li Gun drained the last drop of wine from the jar and left with it in hand.

A streak of black mist swept by—Ah Bai began clearing the messy table without needing to be told.

Fang Mu narrowed his eyes. The Five Gods Cult… Specialists in controlling uncanny sorcerers—how would they make their appearance?

…

Time passed swiftly—another half month went by.

During this period, all remained calm. Fang Mu stayed in Jinglong County, yet the Five Gods Cult never showed. To be honest, Fang Mu was a little disappointed; such a good opportunity, and yet nothing happened.

The new county magistrate, surnamed Wang, had taken office. Compared to Yu Youde, however, Magistrate Wang was a bit inexperienced in managing Jinglong County—perhaps because he was still new to the post.

“Yes, yes, that’s it—add the oil first; once you see smoke rising, that means the oil is ready. Then add the vegetables.”

From within Fang Mu’s home came his voice instructing.

Anyone present would be astonished, for atop the stove, a white cat was cooking.

The cat exhaled black mist as it awkwardly wielded the spatula.

Sizzling sounds filled the kitchen as the hot oil fried. Ah Bai carefully stirred the food, his once-snowy fur now tinged yellow from the smoke.

Fang Mu cracked sunflower seeds and cheered him on. “Not bad, not bad; although you’re not very skilled yet, I’m quite satisfied. Keep this up, and you’ll be laying a solid foundation for bigger things to come.”

Ah Bai turned, nodded vigorously, and was filled with energy.

“When you take the food out, do it slowly. Don’t spill—waste not, want not,” Fang Mu reminded him, continuing his guidance.

Indeed, after this period of training, Ah Bai had become much more adept at household chores.

As Fang Mu put it, “If you have hands, you can do it; even if you don’t, I’ll find a way.”

Under his instruction, and after a short while, a plate of stir-fried greens was ready.

Fang Mu tasted a bite with his chopsticks. Seeing the anticipation in Ah Bai’s eyes, he nodded with satisfaction.

“Time to eat.”

Since the Five Gods Cult remained hidden, all he could do was wait—he had no leads to pursue.

Just as Fang Mu was about to eat, a knock sounded at the door.

“Brother Fang, are you in there?” The voice outside was urgent.

“A constable?” Fang Mu recognized the voice. He opened the door.

A sweat-soaked constable paced anxiously outside. Seeing the door open, he let out a sigh of relief.

“What happened?” Fang Mu asked with a frown.

The constable glanced around, then whispered, “Brother Fang, we’ve got a job. Pack up and come quickly.”

“Hmm? You mean someone’s died?” Fang Mu caught on.

“That’s right,” the constable replied. “A servant in the Sun family’s silk shop in Jinglong County has died.”

“I’ll be right there.” Fang Mu wasted no time, slinging his wooden box over his shoulder.

Ah Bai leaped onto Fang Mu’s shoulder, crouching quietly.

The constable nodded and led Fang Mu to the scene of the crime.

…

By now, dusk had settled over the sky, smoke rising from every household as dinner was prepared.

When Fang Mu arrived at the Sun residence, he saw a crowd gathered in the courtyard.

Even the ornate decorations of the courtyard spoke of the family’s wealth.

“The Sun family is one of the richest in Jinglong County,” the constable whispered. “They run all the silk shops.”

Fang Mu nodded and walked straight in.

“Step aside, step aside—the coroner is here!”

A sharp-eyed officer spotted Fang Mu and quickly cleared a path through the crowd.

“Brother Fang, you’re here—come take a look.” The officer’s face showed a hint of fear as he stepped back.

Fang Mu smiled wryly. He remembered this man—one of the officers who had been beaten when they’d found the little girl’s body at the yamen. No wonder he seemed nervous now.

Without further comment, Fang Mu turned his attention to the scene.

On the ground lay the body of a young woman in servant’s clothing.

The people parted, all waiting for Fang Mu’s verdict.

He opened his wooden box and put on cloth gloves.

The corpse was grim; her eyes were wide open in terror and despair, even in death. Her mouth was agape, tongue protruding. At her lower body, a damp stain marked where she had lost control at the moment of death.

[You have examined the unknown female corpse and gained a sliver of true energy.]

[You have examined the unknown female corpse and acquired the skill—Earthwalk Technique. Allows for agile movement and a daily journey of a hundred miles.]

A thread of true energy flowed into Fang Mu, making the Dragon Gate within him even more tangible.

The Earthwalk Technique entered his mind, and he instantly grasped its essence.

“A movement technique,” Fang Mu thought to himself.

Earthwalk was based on the earth—an art for evasion and rapid travel.

“Earth…”

The word brought to mind something—the long-vanished Five Gods Cult.

The officer, seeing Fang Mu so silent, gritted his teeth, overcame his fear, and stepped forward. “Brother Fang, have you found anything?”