Chapter Seventy: Investigation

Shangguan Chuci had already learned from Han Lin that the Demon Suppression Bureau was rigidly hierarchical, with seven ranks ascending from the lowest: Guard, Lieutenant, Envoy, Commandant, Minister, Overseer, and Director. The figure before her, Ling Jue, carried himself with remarkable authority—an “Envoy,” and a person of some standing here in Zhenhai River.

Yet the frail-looking girl beside him was ranked third, a “Commandant,” equal in rank to the chief officer of the Zhenhai River Demon Suppression Bureau. It was no wonder that, despite Ling Jue’s imposing manner, he stood slightly behind her, as if acknowledging her superiority.

“So young, and already a Commandant—remarkable indeed,” thought Shangguan Chuci, though her expression betrayed nothing. She merely smiled with a hint of amusement and said, “I imagined you would have come yesterday. What kept you until today?”

Ling Jue’s face showed a trace of embarrassment. “That demon sorcerer is cunning. We lost track of him. Moreover, the Bureau is entangled in other pressing matters lately, so there was some delay. I beg your pardon.”

“Other matters?” Shangguan Chuci arched a delicate brow.

“Classified affairs, I’m afraid I cannot disclose them,” Ling Jue replied, bowing respectfully, his attitude deferential yet impenetrable.

Shangguan Chuci let out a thoughtful “Oh,” nodded, and did not press further. Instead, she said, “If you plan to investigate here, is there anything I can assist you with?”

“For now, there’s no need to trouble you, sir,” came a timid voice; it was Lin Jianyan, the girl clutching the crystal palace lantern.

She raised her head, her doe-like eyes gazing at Shangguan Chuci, and spoke softly, “I’ll conduct an initial survey. If there are questions afterward, I’ll ask you.”

Shangguan Chuci frowned. “Survey?”

The girl gently set the palace lantern on the floor, then reached into her voluminous sleeve and produced a small oil-paper packet. Carefully, she unwrapped it, revealing several neatly-cut squares of sesame candy.

She picked up a piece and ate it, chewing softly. The timid look in her eyes softened, melting into satisfaction and serenity brought by the sweet treat.

Shangguan Chuci watched, amused, his gaze shifting to the lantern she’d placed on the ground—a sudden spark of curiosity. The lantern’s jade frame seemed to breathe, its colors cycling in a rhythmic pattern.

Earlier, when the girl held it, the lantern emitted a gentle glow; now, separated from her touch, its light dimmed, as if disappointed. But as the girl chewed her candy, the flame within seemed to share in her delight, growing brighter and more lively.

Shangguan Chuci’s attention lingered on the girl and her lantern, his mind racing. Normally, the Demon Suppression Bureau would use their specialized Demon-Seeking Compass for field investigations, but the girl appeared perfectly calm—and none of her companions made any move to retrieve such a device. Could it be that her sole reliance was on this peculiar lantern?

While Shangguan Chuci pondered, the girl crouched beside the lantern, her slender hand pressing gently atop its mechanism. The device was sculpted in the form of a three-petal iris, exquisite and refined.

She did not act immediately, but first regulated her breathing. Shangguan Chuci noticed her breathing technique resembled the Bureau’s purification meditation, but with subtle differences.

Han Lin whispered in her ear, “Princess, this is the Bureau’s advanced cultivation method. Internal members can acquire it through merit. For her to have mastered it at such a young age, she must be the scion of some noble house, here to gain experience.”

Shangguan Chuci nodded slightly, her eyes never leaving the girl.

After a moment, the girl moved. Her jade fingers delicately rotated the iris mechanism. As her fingertips turned, the lantern’s milky-white flame, once bright and gentle, gradually receded—its brilliance fading, its vigor waning—until nothing remained but a wisp of blue smoke, vanishing into thin air.

Watching this, Shangguan Chuci was reminded of a gas stove from another world, with a similar mechanism to control the flame by a simple turn—so different, yet oddly alike.

When the flame was extinguished, Lin Jianyan slowly rose. Instantly, her voluminous black robe billowed though there was no wind, her sleeves floating, and a cold, profound aura emanated from her being.

The deepest part of her pupils suddenly flared, igniting a pale flame. Her entire demeanor transformed; beneath her timidity, a strange, unfathomable air emerged.

She suddenly raised a slender finger, pointing toward the entrance of the main hall, and spoke softly, “The proprietor here, Qian Dahai, died at this spot two nights ago. He sought to die by sorcery, to become something unclean, but someone severed the ritual midway, thwarting his transformation.”

The words made Shangguan Chuci’s pupils contract involuntarily. The girl recounted events as though she had witnessed them firsthand, describing that night’s scene down to the smallest detail!

Such supernatural ability was truly beyond comprehension!

Shocked, a deep unease welled within her. It was not guilt over her own machinations, but concern for the boy still recuperating in the woodshed. The puppet doll had fallen into the Bureau’s hands—a complication, but not insurmountable. If this girl were to discover that the one who interrupted the sorcerous death was Lu Chenyuan, and from him trace the unspeakable entity within him...

A chill swept over her at the thought. She wished to warn him, but surrounded by Bureau cultivators and confronted with the girl’s mysterious powers, any rash move would only draw suspicion and confirm their doubts. Lu Chenyuan, gravely wounded, could do little even if forewarned; any attempt to act would likely worsen his injuries.

Shangguan Chuci had not anticipated being so swiftly cornered, trapped in an awkward dilemma. She did not know by what means Lin Jianyan could uncover the past, nor how much she might learn...

All she could do was hope the girl’s powers were not too profound, or else today’s troubles would multiply.

As Shangguan Chuci pondered her predicament, the girl’s brows furrowed slightly. Her slender finger swept slowly across the hall, now pointing toward the counter.

“Here…” the girl’s tone grew heavier, tinged with confusion. “A powerful grievance was released here, fiercer and deeper than the proprietor’s sorcerous death. It seems an extremely evil, unclean entity once manifested at this spot.”

She paused, her pale-flamed eyes lingering on the celadon vase atop the counter—untouched amid the inn’s recent chaos—before scanning the room and continuing, “Yet now, that evil presence has vanished without a trace, as if someone took it away.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than Shangguan Chuci felt the air around her tighten dramatically.

Envoy Ling Jue, along with several Bureau guards behind him, turned their sharp, synchronized gazes upon her.