West Factory Thousand Households Min Ning looked at the three corpses in the alley.
"Two of them had their throats slit in one stroke. The strikes were executed with precision and swiftness—they were dead before they even had the chance to draw their weapons."
Min Ning scanned the corpses casually, then stepped forward. Her brows carried a heroic air, her expression solemn.
Upon seeing Song Shengbao's corpse, Min Ning glanced at it briefly before her pupils constricted slightly.
"The blade was snapped cleanly. Judging by the cut... both sides curve slightly—it must have bent sharply during the strike and then suddenly broke under immense force. Powerful and explosive... Is this the Severing Jiao Blade Technique?"
Min Ning's face showed a hint of astonishment.
In the Capital City, there was only one other person she could think of who might use the Severing Jiao Blade Technique.
"It must be Chen Yi... But didn't he just steal the blade technique a month ago?"
When this mysterious man of unknown origins suddenly rose to a prominent position a month prior, Min Ning had regarded him with disdain.
Connections—no one likes them.
To make things worse, Chen Yi was in his twenties yet hadn't even reached the rank of Ninth Grade Martial Artist. He was as blank as a sheet of paper.
Yet Min Ning, barely past twenty, was already an Eighth Grade Martial Artist. Her exceptional talent, her track record of solving major cases, coupled with the fact that her grandfather had once been the South Sentinel of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and had extended benefaction to the West Factory Supervisor—all these had secured her appointment as West Factory Thousand Households upon her coming of age. She was then dispatched to the Eastern Factory to carry out supervisory duties.
Despite her achievements at such a youthful age, she was far from respected. Instead, the Eastern Factory resented their parachuted superior.
Min Ning's personality was too upright, too uncompromising—leaving no room for corruption.
After a cursory investigation, Min Ning lifted her foot and walked out of the alley.
"I need to find Sister, investigate his background. If there's nothing suspicious, then... I'll bring him along to stop those remnants of the demonic cult."
The Capital City had many pleasure quarters, Baihua Building among them. Here resided both refined courtesans, who sold their art but not their bodies, and radiant hostesses, as captivating as red tides rolling forth.
"I remember the Chen Yi you're talking about."
Min Ming fanned herself with a playful smile.
She was enchantingly flirtatious, inherently graceful, her peach-blossom eyes glistening. Her crimson attire outlined her rounded figure like a rising moon. Her amiable disposition made her popular with the girls in the brothel, who often joked that she could surely feed herself by relying solely on her charms.
"Mm, Sister, please investigate him thoroughly. There's something unusual about him—don't underestimate it."
The Thousand Households repeatedly reminded her.
"Ning'er, could it be that you're thinking about this man too much? Chattering on and on . By the way, I remember he's quite handsome."
Min Ming teased her gently.
Min Ning, dressed as a man, flushed lightly, then shook her head in disdain.
If she had her way, she would prefer never to see this man, corrupt and undeserving of his position, ever again.
It was a clash of values, an outright animosity—but more than that, he had stolen the family's Severing Jiao Blade Technique.
"Sister, you're too frivolous. No matter how charming he may seem, he's nothing more than silver-like plating on a pewter spearhead—looks impressive, but utterly useless."
Min Ning muttered softly.
"Women can exchange ribald remarks among ourselves—it doesn't matter. Besides, I never banter with men."
Min Ming replied with a smile.
Soon after, Min Ning left Baihua Building.
Min Ming turned her face towards the shadows within the side room.
"Old Matchmaker, come out now."
An elderly woman with silver hair and a hunched back emerged from the shadows, though Min Ning, being West Factory Thousand Households, had never noticed her presence.
"That Chen Hundred Households—his origins are indeed a mystery."
The Old Matchmaker spoke faintly.
"Wuyong Building has long wanted you to investigate him. You are one of the rare capable hands in this establishment."
Min Ming furrowed her delicate brows.
Clearly, the Old Matchmaker viewed her as nothing more than a tool for Wuyong Building's purposes.
Seeing Min Ming's silence, the Old Matchmaker misunderstood.
"Could it be that you lack confidence?"
She continued slowly:
"Understandably so—he became West Factory Hundred Households at such a young age. Even if he has the backing of the Lin Party, it's likely that he enjoys significant favor from the Empress Dowager. For someone to garner such favor, he must be loyal to the kingdom and unyielding by nature."
"Miss Min, you must be cautious not to provoke his killing intent—avoid causing him to come at you with force."
Min Ming chuckled softly in response.
The Old Matchmaker might not have seen Chen Yi, but she had. That man was undoubtedly handsome, yet it was precisely for that reason that he was nothing more than a gilded husk—golden on the outside, rotten within. The intelligence she had collected painted a vivid picture of his excessive corruption and wasteful squandering.
"Grandma jests. A Jianghu lad caught in complicated affairs of the heart—if I dress up tonight to meet him, why would he come at me with force?"
Following that, she uttered a risqué remark, one typical of refined courtesan humor:
"Even if he starts off hard and strong, sooner or later, he'll soften up."
Shortly thereafter, outside the East Hua Gate of the palace, Chen Yi opened the inner residence doors and brought the Princess of Xiang inside.
Throughout the journey, Yin Tingxue seemed to have lost her soul, dazed and distracted. A hint of blush lingered on her cheeks. For this Princess of Xiang, the previous violation was unprecedented, and what terrified her more was the uncertainty of further torment she might face as a concubine.
Tingxue's fear barely registered for Chen Yi. He merely led her into the room, briefly introduced her to the surroundings, and finally sent her to the bedroom.
Once back in the hall, Chen Yi touched his lips, reminiscing about the kiss. He found it pleasant but had no intention of kissing her again, nor did he rush to push things further.
If he numbed her with too many kisses, her emotional reactions would dull—then it'd lose its charm.
"Feels like... she's pretty easy to bully?"
Chen Yi quipped in self-deprecation.
He was filled with a sense of satisfaction—not merely from the vindictive pleasure, but also with a faint and inexplicable tenderness.