Chapter 78: Hidden Dangers Lurk in the Council Chamber; Lin Chen's Words Shut Down Chief Wang's Mouth

Lin Chen followed the Clerk through the corridor, heading toward the Conference Hall in the Main Courtyard.

Zhou Tie caught up, his armor plates clinking softly.

Lin Chen tilted his head and glanced at him.

With just that one look, Zhou Tie's steps halted at the corner of the corridor.

He cupped his fists and stood still, not taking another step forward.

Lin Chen withdrew his gaze, his right hand resting once more on the hilt of black abyss.

His thumb rubbed against the stingray skin texture of the grip as he followed the Clerk at a steady pace.

The Clerk walking ahead was sweating so much that a dark patch had already soaked through the fabric on his back.

His neck was slightly hunched, and his pace quickened by a fraction, as if he were eager to rid himself of this hot potato of a task.

Lin Chen's boots stepped onto the stone slabs, the interval of each step identical to when he was patrolling the streets.

The layout of the Conference Hall was much as he had expected.

At the head of the main hall sat a red-lacquered long table, upon which rested tea cups and a thick ledger.

Director Wang Gang sat in the chair behind the table, clutching that thick ledger in his hands.

The cover was made of indigo-blue coarse cloth, with seven characters written on it in regular script.

“Patrol Division Hundred-Household Establishment Regulations.”

On the left and right sides, four high-backed chairs were arranged.

Three people sat in the chairs on the left, with Commander Ma Kui being the foremost.

He wore an old set of leather armor and sat with his legs crossed, his long blade—missing half its handguard—resting across his knees.

The two scars on his face twisted in the sunlight like two pale-white earthworms.

Behind him sat two Hundred-Households: one a dark-skinned middle-aged man, the other a tall, thin man with a goatee.

Both had their arms crossed and leaned back against their chairs, their chins tilted slightly upward.

The chairs on the right side were empty, with no one sitting there.

In the back row against the wall stood five or six Little Banners, all of them casting glances toward the door.

Upon seeing Lin Chen enter, two of them immediately shifted their gaze to the ceiling, the smirks on their faces not yet fully retracted.

Lin Chen stood in the center of the hall, neither offering a salute nor looking for a seat.

His gaze swept from left to right, pausing for a breath on each person's face.

Commander Ma Kui's crossed leg twitched as the gaze swept over him, but he didn't lower it.

When the two Hundred-Households met his eyes, they each tilted their chins up another half-inch.

The Little Banners in the back row all lowered their eyelids, staring at the tips of their own shoes.

Director Wang Gang's smile was perfectly practiced.

He pushed the regulations ledger toward the front edge of the table, his back ramrod straight.

The gentle, appropriate smile on his face was just right, making it seem like a normal official meeting.

“Centurion Lin has arrived. Please, have a seat.”

His right hand gestured vaguely toward the empty row of chairs on the right.

Lin Chen did not move.

He simply stood in the center of the hall, the soles of his boots resting on the seams of the square tiles, his right hand on the hilt of black abyss.

Director Wang Gang's hand paused in mid-air for a breath before he was forced to withdraw it, resting it on the cover of the regulations.

“Standing to speak is also fine.”

He smiled and flipped open the thick ledger. After a few rustling sounds, he stopped at the third page.

His index finger pressed down on a line of text, sliding it gently for half an inch.

“Centurion Lin, congratulations on your promotion. The entire division is happy for you.”

He looked up, his smile undiminished and his tone beyond reproach.

“However, according to the long-standing custom of the Patrol Division, a Hundred-Household establishment is full at one hundred men.”

He turned the regulations around and pushed them half an inch toward Lin Chen.

“Those with less than fifty percent of their establishment are not permitted to lead cases independently and must be attached to another Hundred-Household to assist with duties.”

He paused for a beat, lifting his index finger from the paper.

“This isn't targeted at anyone; it's written right here in black and white in the regulations.”

His gaze moved from the regulations to Lin Chen's face, a very thin layer of testing hidden within his gentleness.

“Including yourself, Centurion Lin, there are currently only nine people registered under you—less than ten percent.”

He tapped the cover of the regulations gently with his palm, producing a soft thud.

“So...”

Commander Ma Kui took up the conversation from the chair on the left.

He finally lowered his crossed leg, his boot heel clicking sharply against the square tile.

Leaning forward slightly, he rested his elbows on his knees.

“So Centurion Lin is temporarily ineligible to take on cases independently.”

His voice was chilly and his tone slow, enunciating every word clearly.

“If you want to work, start by being an assistant under me. We'll talk again once you've gathered enough men.”

He patted the long blade on his knee that was missing its handguard, the corners of his mouth turning down.

“A Hundred-Household is just a title; whether you can do the work of a Hundred-Household depends on whether you have the men.”

Two Little Banners standing against the back wall lowered their heads, their shoulders shaking as they forcibly swallowed their laughter.

The air in the Conference Hall grew heavy.

Sunlight streamed in from the doorway, drawing a line between light and shadow just before the tips of Lin Chen's boots.

He stood in the shadowed half, a corner of his expression cut away by the light and shadow.

No one spoke.

Everyone was waiting for his reaction, their eyes filled with the peculiar patience of hunters.

The prey had entered the trap; it was the prey who should be anxious, not them.

Lin Chen was not anxious.

He didn't look at Commander Ma Kui; from beginning to end, his gaze remained fixed on Director Wang Gang's face, never wavering or flinching.

The silence lasted for three breaths.

Lin Chen spoke.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a stone dropped into a still pond, making every person present hear him clearly.

“Director Wang, did the transfer order from the Governor's Mansion say I am promoted to a Seventh-Rank Hundred-Household starting today, or that I only become a Hundred-Household once I've gathered a hundred men?”

Director Wang Gang's finger paused on the cover of the regulations for a beat.

His smile remained and its curve didn't change, but the lines at the corners of his mouth sagged slightly.

Just as he was about to open his mouth, Lin Chen had already followed up with a second sentence.

“There were six other words on the transfer order.”

Lin Chen moved his hand from the hilt of black abyss to the copper buckle of his belt.

“‘Under the direct command of Centurion Lin.’”

He moved his gaze to Director Wang Gang's finger clutching the regulations, pausing there for an extra breath.

“It did not say ‘under the control of the Patrol Division Director.’”

Once those words landed, the atmosphere in the Conference Hall changed.

Commander Ma Kui's crossed leg came down once more, both boot soles landing side-by-side on the tiles.

His back, which had been leaning against the chair, also straightened by half an inch instinctively.

The two Hundred-Households behind him exchanged a look, and the one with the dark complexion uncrossed his arms.

The remaining traces of laughter on the Little Banners' faces froze completely, and they each pursed their lips into a straight line.

The Conference Hall was silent for two breaths.

Director Wang Gang closed the regulations.

His right hand rested on the cover, his thumb and index finger pinching and rubbing the upper right corner of the ledger twice, leaving a white crease.

He looked up, his smile dropping slightly, but his voice maintained that shell of business-like professionalism.

“Centurion Lin, rules are rules, and transfer orders are transfer orders.”

He pulled the regulations back toward himself, pressing his palm down on them.

“The Patrol Division has its own operational protocols. The Governor's Mansion's transfer order can manage appointments, but it cannot manage specific operational procedures.”

He picked up his tea cup, brought it to his lips, and blew on the steam, but he didn't drink.

“This rule is one that any incoming Hundred-Household must follow.”

He set the tea cup back on the table, the porcelain base clicking sharply against the red-lacquered surface.

Lin Chen tilted his head slightly.

His gaze moved from Director Wang Gang's face and landed on Commander Ma Kui in the chair on the left.

Commander Ma Kui's eyes collided with his.

The two scars on his face twitched, and his shoulders instinctively shrank back half an inch, his back stiffly pressing against the chair.

Lin Chen withdrew his gaze and looked back at Director Wang Gang.

His tone returned to a business-like flatness, devoid of any anger, but also without a hint of backing down.

“The matter of the hundred-man establishment, I will resolve myself.”

He removed his hand from the copper belt buckle and let it hang by his side.

“I won't trouble Director Wang to worry about it.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

The sound of his boots stepping across the tile seams was steady and even, exactly the same as when he had entered.

Behind him, Director Wang Gang's voice followed. The gentle shell finally cracked a corner, revealing the coldness within.

“Centurion Lin.”

Lin Chen did not stop.

Director Wang Gang raised his voice half a notch, every word carrying the weight of the chair behind that table.

“Personnel allocation in the Patrol Division falls under my jurisdiction. If you want to recruit people, the list must pass through me for approval.”

His fingers tapped on the cover of the regulations, one after another. The rhythm wasn't fast, but each tap was forceful.

“Anyone who has not been approved will not enter the Patrol Division's register, will not be issued a salary, and will not count toward the establishment.”

Lin Chen's boot ground against the wooden threshold for a breath as he stopped.

He didn't turn around.

“Approval is fine.”

His voice drifted back from the doorway, cut in half by the sunlight and shadow.

“But personnel transferred from the Governor's Mansion are not within the scope of your approval.”

With that, he stepped over the threshold, his right hand returning to the hilt of black abyss as he headed off toward the East Courtyard.

Silence reigned in the Conference Hall for four or five breaths.

Commander Ma Kui's right fist slammed onto the armrest of his chair. The old elm wood let out a dull thud, and a shard of wood was shaken loose from the corner of the armrest.

He squeezed three words through his teeth.

“What a piece of work.”

Neither of the two Hundred-Households behind him responded; one picked up a tea cup to drink, while the other looked down at the tips of his boots.

Director Wang Gang picked up the regulations and slapped them against the table, the pages rustling loudly.

The smile on his face had vanished completely, replaced by a thin layer of ice.

He tilted his head toward the Clerk who was still standing bowed by the door.

His voice was extremely low, audible only to the Clerk and Commander Ma Kui in the front row.

“Go and check which channel the approval process for that transfer order from the Governor's Mansion followed.”

His finger tapped the table once more.

“I want to know whose desk that order came from, how many hands it passed through, and which seal was stamped on the document.”

The Clerk's back bowed even lower as he repeatedly answered, “Yes, sir.”

He backed out of the Conference Hall, his quick, light footsteps scurrying toward the Records Room.

Commander Ma Kui stood up from his chair and walked to the front of the table, lowering his voice.

“Director Wang, this kid clearly has no respect for the Patrol Division's rules. He's relying on the prestige of the Governor's Mansion.”

Director Wang Gang picked up his tea cup, and this time he actually took a sip.

The sound of him swallowing the tea was exceptionally clear in the quiet Conference Hall.

He set down the tea cup, his finger rotating the porcelain lid half a turn.

“The prestige belongs to others; the person is his own.”

He glanced at Commander Ma Kui, his gaze containing no anger, only the contemplative look of a chess player before making a move.

“No matter how great the prestige, there are times when one cannot bear its weight.”

Commander Ma Kui's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but in the end, he said nothing. He patted the broken blade at his waist and turned to leave.

...

East Courtyard.

Lin Chen passed through the courtyard gate, where Zhou Tie was waiting.

Zhou Tie's gaze swept over Lin Chen's face and then looked at his hand resting on the scabbard, but he didn't ask anything.

Lin Chen walked straight into the Duty Room and sat in the chair before the desk.

Zhou Tie followed him in and stood opposite the desk with his hands behind his back.

The door to the Duty Room was half-closed, and the shadow of the old locust tree in the courtyard flickered across the floor through the gap, swaying in the wind.

Zhou Tie spoke, his voice lowered so only the two of them could hear.

“What did Director Wang say?”

Lin Chen took a sheet of white paper from a drawer, spread it on the desk, and pushed the inkstone to his side.

“He wants to use the Patrol Division's establishment regulations to tie my hands.”

He picked up an ink stick and ground it in the inkstone with a few steady, unhurried circles.

“If a Hundred-Household's establishment is less than fifty percent, they cannot lead cases independently and must be attached to another Hundred-Household.”

Zhou Tie's brow furrowed.

“That rule exists, but it's never been used to hinder anyone. In the past, any new Hundred-Household would start working first and then slowly fill their ranks.”

His voice deepened by a fraction.

“He's doing it on purpose.”

Lin Chen set the ink stick back on the edge of the inkstone, picked up a brush, and dipped it in the ink.

“He also mentioned another rule.”

He wrote the first line of characters on the white paper, his brushwork steady and without hesitation.

“The recruitment list must pass through his approval. Without approval, they won't be on the register, won't receive a salary, and won't count toward the establishment.”

Zhou Tie brought his hands from behind his back, his fingers tightening slightly against his thighs.

“He wants to block your personnel.”

His voice grew even lower, his speaking rate slowing down a beat.

“The people you recruit from outside won't be able to enter the Patrol Division's official establishment. Without a salary or a Waist Token, they won't even have the authority to arrest people on the streets.”

The tip of Lin Chen's brush paused on the paper for a breath before he continued writing the second line.

“He manages the personnel of the Patrol Division.”

As his brush finished the final character, he set it back on the horizontal groove of the inkstone and looked up at Zhou Tie.

“But he doesn't manage the personnel of the Governor's Mansion.”

Zhou Tie's pupils constricted slightly, and he pursed his lips as he processed Lin Chen's words.

“You intend to bypass the Patrol Division and go directly through the Governor's Mansion to fill the ranks?”

Lin Chen did not answer directly. Instead, he drew a horizontal line beneath the three characters for ‘Governor's Mansion’ on the paper.

The ink bled slightly into the paper, but those three characters and that horizontal line remained clear.

He moved his hand away from the paper and leaned back against his chair.

“Go and prepare. Tomorrow morning, come with me to find some people.”

Zhou Tie looked at the paper on the desk and then at Lin Chen's face.

He didn't ask further, but cupped his fists, turned, and withdrew from the Duty Room.