Chapter Forty-Two: The Scheme of the Demonic Sect!

The moon hung bright in a sky scattered with sparse stars. Earlier that night in Shiyang County, several uninvited guests arrived at the official residence behind the county office, where Jin Changwu lived.

“Master Shi, His Excellency has already retired for the night. He will not receive visitors. Please come again tomorrow.”

“I have urgent matters to report to the county magistrate—matters of utmost importance. Notify him at once!”

Jin Changwu was in his study, penning an essay, when he heard the commotion outside. The voice sounded like Vice Magistrate Shi Bufeng. Jin’s brush paused for a moment, but he calmly resumed writing.

In recent days, he had encountered a formidable opponent in his official career for the first time. Chief Clerk Zhou, it turned out, was a relative of the Deputy Military Commissioner of Jiangnan West Circuit. Now, seeking to ride the winds of fortune, Zhou wished to use Jin as a stepping stone.

But the Deputy Military Commissioner was second only to the regional governor, a figure of real power. Jin, a mid-level county magistrate with no backing, was as good as fish on a chopping block, at the mercy of others.

He hadn’t expected Zhou Zhiyun to act so hastily, or for Shi Bufeng to conspire with him, bringing the account books to impeach Jin and leave him in this precarious state.

Most of the city wall had already been completed. Earlier, the east wall had to be rebuilt due to an unstable foundation, so Jin had temporarily diverted some commercial tax silver to cover the costs, planning to replenish it after the project’s completion.

He never imagined his opponents would seize upon this as evidence of wrongdoing. Coupled with the strange demonic occurrences in the city over the past month, he was dealt a fierce blow.

Thus, the credit for the work in Shiyang County was about to be handed over, becoming someone else’s glory. Zhou had used similar tactics against Ouyang Hong, who now could only barely protect himself.

It was a pity, after four or five years of diligent service and with his term nearly complete, to come to such a fate. If Zhou still remembered their past camaraderie and refrained from further pursuit, perhaps Jin could avoid being sent to suppress the southern barbarians as punishment.

But Shi Bufeng, a local scholar who had failed the imperial exams, usually meek and compliant, was now strutting arrogantly. In recent days, Shi’s demeanor had changed entirely; he sought confrontation at every turn.

Jin continued writing, when suddenly the study door was flung open. Shi Bufeng entered, clad in a scarlet robe—a towering man of over fifty. His presence seemed to chill the entire room.

Rumor had it that, in his youth, Shi had ventured to the southern borderlands, fought his way out of peril, then returned to take the exams, eventually becoming a scholar-official, though never passing the highest exams. Now he was a minor official in Shiyang County.

Jin calmly set his brush on the brush rest and looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“So it’s Master Shi. To what do I owe this late-night visit?”

He glanced at the men accompanying Shi, all dressed as officers, each holding a blade.

“Master Jin, Magistrate Zhang from Jizhou Prefecture has uncovered further discrepancies in the accounts and has instructed me to request your presence for questioning.”

Shi’s face was cold, businesslike.

Jin’s gaze sharpened as he considered Shi’s words.

“Magistrate Zhang wishes to question me at this hour? Was he not attending Chief Clerk Zhou’s birthday banquet today? After several rounds of wine, does he still have the leisure to audit the accounts in the dead of night?”

“I am only relaying his orders. Whatever Magistrate Zhang wishes to do is his concern. Please, Master Jin.”

The other officers stepped forward. Jin clasped his hands behind his back, and a surge of authority emanated from him—the imposing presence of a true scholar-official. The men instinctively shrank back, faces pale.

“Master Jin, what are you trying to do?” Shi’s tone grew even colder.

“I should ask you, Master Shi—what do you intend? Even if Magistrate Zhang summoned me, it is not your place to come calling like this, much less to let these strangers run riot in my home!”

Jin’s voice rang out, his robes billowing, a sudden gust filling the room. Shi and his men retreated another two steps.

But then Shi summoned his own scholarly strength and met Jin’s gaze head-on.

“In that case, please come. Magistrate Zhang has been waiting.”

His tone softened slightly, and the officers hastily sheathed their blades and stood aside.

Jin snorted and finally reined in his anger, sweeping from the desk.

“Where is Magistrate Zhang?”

“At the travelers’ lodge.”

“Very well,” Jin replied coolly, stepping out of the study.

As he left, a fleeting look of cold satisfaction crossed Shi Bufeng’s face.

Jin proceeded to the street, turning a corner toward the lodge. The area was silent, though faint lights glimmered inside.

He approached the entrance just as Chief Clerk Zhou’s carriage arrived from the opposite street. Zhou, slightly unsteady and reeking of wine, was helped down by a servant. County Captain Pan Shun’s carriage arrived as well, and he too disembarked, swaying.

At the lodge door, Zhou seemed surprised to see Jin. Jin merely offered a brief salute and entered without a word.

Zhou hurried after him. Seeing Shi Bufeng, he asked, “Master Shi, why has Magistrate Zhang summoned us so late? Wasn’t he resting after the banquet, unable to hold his liquor?”

“That I do not know,” Shi replied, his face cold and sly. “Magistrate Zhang simply requested our presence. You know the situation—these are uneasy times…”

Zhou quickly caught on, sobering up as he nodded and followed the others inside.

Within, all the servants had vanished. Only one eastern room was lit. Jin led the way there. They saluted at the door.

“Magistrate Zhang,” they called respectfully.

No response came. Jin found it curious, and Shi stepped forward to knock. A hoarse, low voice came from within.

“Come in.”

Jin stepped forward, Shi already inside, murmuring something. But as Jin crossed the threshold, his own scholar’s aura was triggered.

The eastern window shattered, revealing the scene within: Magistrate Zhang, a scholar-official himself, sat cross-legged on the couch—with a gaping wound in his chest, blood pooling black around him.

He was dead—utterly so.

“Magistrate Zhang!” Zhou cried in terror as he entered, but immediately felt the world spin.

It was not drunkenness—he had used his scholarly power to dispel the wine’s effects upon seeing the corpse. Now, the vertigo came from something else: his power was out of control.

Suddenly, an overwhelming force pressed down on them. Jin and Zhou both felt their scholarly energy stifled, their bodies weighed down.

“Who’s behind this sorcery?!”

Zhou shouted, fighting the discomfort. But Shi Bufeng, who had entered first, began to laugh quietly.

“Hahaha, Chief Clerk Zhou, my thanks. If not for you, how could tonight have ended so perfectly?”

At that moment, a man dropped from the roof. Scholarly power surged from him—another scholar-official. His murky energy flooded the room, activating an array that trapped Jin, Zhou, and the others.

“The taste of demonic poison is unpleasant, isn’t it? I went through quite some trouble to make you ingest it tonight.”

Zhou’s eyes widened with realization, recalling the repeated toasts at the banquet. Jin’s face flushed, his eyes bloodshot, as he shouted,

“You’re cultists?!”

Zhou’s face twisted with rage. “The Demon Sect? Shi Bufeng, you—!”

He turned to glare at Shi, acutely aware of the demonic poison wreaking havoc within him, shaking his scholarly spirit.

“So what if I am!” Shi thundered, his expression dark.

“Demon Sect—such a name is only the slander of your corrupt regime’s lackeys. In truth, our paths are the same; we all seek the ultimate power!”

“Why are you the so-called righteous, while we are labeled evil and despised?”

Just then, the city’s alarm bells began to ring violently.

Shi looked into the distance, his gaze fierce and triumphant.

“Tonight, with your blood—and that of every soul in Shiyang County—we will show that coward hiding in Chang’an that the Demon Sect endures. We are not dead yet!”

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