Chapter 82: I Discovered a Blind Spot (Please Subscribe)

The old man’s expression remained frozen for a long time. It wasn’t until Cheng Guang, growing impatient, was about to repeat his question that the old man finally came to his senses.

“My... my lord...” he stammered, swallowing stiffly, his face etched with fear for the offense he had just committed.

Cheng Guang, however, had no intention of holding it against him. He waved his hand dismissively and asked again, “Elder, as a Black Lamp officer like myself, where do I go to assign subordinates?”

The old man immediately stood up and replied respectfully, “You may simply call me ‘Old Man,’ my lord. For those of us in the Lamp-Bearing Department, when constables go out on cases or missions and need manpower, most are assigned internally. A White Lamp constable can command ten Black Lamp officers, but Black Lamp officers, being the lowest rank, are usually only allocated some external members. However, my lord, even Gold Lamp constables can be commanded by you if you wish...”

Sensible as he was, the old man continued, “Currently, there are only three Gold Lamp officers in the department. I can summon them all for you—”

But Cheng Guang quickly shook his head, declining the offer. “A few external members will suffice.”

For Cheng Guang, he had no need for particularly formidable subordinates. If he needed strong experts, he had more than enough among his own personal guards. What he really needed was a few people to help investigate and handle the case—strength and status were unimportant. What mattered was obedience and understanding. He only needed to go through the motions perfectly, finding a good reason to pass on the information he possessed to Cheng Zhihai.

Since Cheng Guang insisted, the old man did not argue further. From a drawer beneath the table, he took out a few sheets filled with information and handed them over.

Glancing through, Cheng Guang saw these were dossiers on external personnel, complete with portraits, names, cultivation levels, and so on. Even the lowest of these external members were of the Fourth Grade Divine Ability Realm—at least as strong as Lin Cheng, if not stronger.

Lin Cheng’s status: -1

The phrase drifted through Cheng Guang’s mind, causing him to chuckle silently.

The old man then handed him another stack of papers, this time a thick file filled with everything related to the former Crown Prince in question. If he were to investigate, he’d first need thorough background information. The file spanned from the prince’s birth to his later disappearance, though some records were incomplete—otherwise, things would not have reached their current state.

Cheng Guang estimated that, had the prince’s information been more detailed, the file would be ten times as thick.

“My lord, for external members, you should visit the Personnel Hall. These external members all need to complete several tasks before they can be formally promoted to Black Lamp officers, so they are eager to take on missions... But, my lord, this task of searching for the former Crown Prince is extremely difficult. Would you rather choose something simpler?” the old man asked with some concern, quietly producing a list. “These are tasks I’ve summarized myself—high merit, little work. I don’t show these to just anyone. My lord, perhaps you’d prefer one of these?”

Cheng Guang couldn’t help but smile wryly. So this old man really thought he was here to complete tasks and climb the ranks. If that were his goal, he wouldn’t have come in person; Cheng Zhihai would have handled it all for him. All he’d have to do was lie back and accept the rewards.

He politely declined the old man’s kindness, said no more, and left the mission hall with the files.

Soon, he arrived at the Personnel Hall as directed. The Lamp-Bearing Department officials there stiffened at his approach, every movement turning rigid with tension. When he handed over the dossiers, they hurried off to fetch the corresponding people.

The Personnel Hall worked efficiently. In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, five external members had assembled before Cheng Guang.

There were three men and two women. The strongest was Fifth Grade, the weakest Fourth Grade Divine Ability Realm. When they arrived, they had assumed they were being called for a routine mission by some ordinary Black Lamp officer.

But when they saw the elegant young noble waiting at the desk—Cheng Guang himself—they were all struck dumb with shock.

In an instant, the five became visibly nervous. Regardless of gender, each grew self-conscious and awkward. Still, none dared be disrespectful—though their nerves were plain, they greeted Cheng Guang with utmost respect.

“My lord.”

Cheng Guang nodded in acknowledgment.

“My lord, may we ask what task we are to undertake this time?” Among them, the burliest man spoke up gingerly. His name was Xu Hongfei, and he was not only the most robust but also the strongest of the five—a Fifth Grade Awakening Realm expert.

Cheng Guang handed them the file on the former Crown Prince, stood, and stretched languidly. “Our task is to find the whereabouts of the former Crown Prince. Work hard with me, and let’s strive to accomplish this within a month.”

He smiled at the five, his expression gentle and kind.

At his words, the faces of Xu Hongfei and the others turned noticeably pale.

“What???”

Their jaws dropped, eyes nearly popping out. It was as if, in a scene from an old legend, a hapless minion was suddenly told by the king to go capture a great monk.

Who was the former Crown Prince? The deposed heir of the previous dynasty, someone who had evaded the Great Zhou Emperor for decades and remained at large—how could he be so easily found?

Was the young master mad...to want to take them, mere external members, on such an impossible task?

Xu Hongfei’s lips moved, at a loss for words. After some hesitation, he couldn’t help but say, “My lord... if I may speak frankly, this task is beyond us. Only Silver Lamp officers and above are qualified to attempt it... If we try, we’re likely to waste a month and achieve nothing.”

He was careful not to offend Cheng Guang, watching his expression with every word, afraid to anger him.

Yet Cheng Guang was not as petty as Xu Hongfei feared. He had fully anticipated their reaction. Whether or not they joined him mattered little; it was all just for show.

“I won’t force you,” Cheng Guang said with a smile. “It’s possible this will be a month wasted, with nothing to gain. The choice is yours—I won’t hold it against you.”

At this, the five looked even more conflicted. They truly did not wish to waste their time. For external members like themselves, time was more precious than money. The sooner they completed tasks, the sooner they might be formally admitted as Black Lamp officers, able to take on missions and earn merit for resources to advance their cultivation. Even as mere Black Lamp officers, the monthly stipend was thirty taels of silver—a year’s income for an ordinary laborer. For ordinary folk, the job was indeed enticing.

Given these reasons, few external members would willingly waste a month chasing the elusive former Crown Prince.

Yet to work alongside such a noble figure—even if the mission failed—could open doors to opportunity. But for such a great personage, would they, mere externals, even be worthy of the association? If nothing came of it, their incompetence might even bring down the young master’s wrath—a fate none could bear.

So, in silence, they hesitated.

Cheng Guang did not rush them, sipping tea as he waited.

After a while, one finally stepped forward, thin and sallow, with the look of someone undernourished. He glanced timidly at Cheng Guang. “My lord, I, Chen Qing, am afraid I cannot join you. My mother is gravely ill and needs expensive treatment every month, so I must complete as many tasks as possible to earn my promotion. I simply don’t have the time... I’m sorry.”

Cheng Guang’s expression didn’t change, his gentle smile unwavering. “Anyone else?”

Soon, the two women among the five also stepped forward. Though they had been sneaking glances at Cheng Guang, tempted by his looks, they did not dare risk joining such a hopeless mission. Even Gold Lamp officers lacked confidence in finding the former Crown Prince, let alone this young master with no investigative experience.

Following them, another young man also excused himself, his reasoning much the same: joining Cheng Guang would be a waste of time with little hope of results.

Cheng Guang was not surprised, only a little regretful—not for himself, but for their missed opportunity. The gears of fate had begun to turn for them, only to be halted by their own hands.

You had your chance, but you failed to seize it, he thought as he turned to the last remaining member, Xu Hongfei. If Xu Hongfei backed out as well, Cheng Guang would be utterly alone—an awkward predicament.

He began to wonder if offering them a choice in the first place had been a mistake. But what was said could not be unsaid. If no one joined him, so be it—he could always join another White Lamp officer’s team if needed.

Cheng Guang stroked his chin, pondering this.

Just as he thought Xu Hongfei, who had first raised doubts, might also refuse, the latter, after a moment’s inner conflict, stepped forward and bowed solemnly.

“My lord, they may not wish to follow you, but I, Xu Hongfei, pledge to follow you unto death!”

Cheng Guang was a little surprised and glanced at Xu Hongfei.

Xu Hongfei, sensing his gaze, kept his head bowed respectfully. “My lord, my earlier question was not because I doubted your ability, but to see how confident you were. I’ve been observing you since then. From the start, your expression has never betrayed panic—not even when Chen Qing and the others left. You have remained calm throughout. So I believe you can accomplish this—not as a gamble, but with true confidence.”

Hearing this, Cheng Guang was impressed. Xu Hongfei was sharp, having even observed his subtle cues. Perhaps Xu had tested him on purpose, though it had also scared off the others.

Indeed, upon realizing this, the four who left were instantly stricken with regret. They had lost confidence in the mission because of Xu’s doubts, thinking it a waste of time. Now, reconsidering, they realized that as the young master, Cheng Guang could have chosen any subordinates he wished—why these external members in particular? Perhaps there was inside information, perhaps the Director had paved the way for him.

The possibility that Cheng Guang might actually succeed—and that the rewards would be immense—suddenly seemed much greater. If he did, it would not merely mean promotion to Black Lamp officer, but perhaps even to White Lamp in a single leap. For Cheng Guang, this was nothing, but for them, it would be like ascending to heaven in one step.

With this realization, their regret deepened. The two women were close to tears, their eyes red and shimmering.

Cheng Guang, though, paid them little heed. Those who left were gone; he had no intention of calling them back. He studied Xu Hongfei. Xu was clearly sharper than the others, and just one would suffice.

He rose, gathered his materials, and left the hall. Xu Hongfei hurried after him, following Cheng Guang out of the Lamp-Bearing Department.

Chen Qing and the rest, left behind, looked at one another in misery as they watched the pair depart, feeling as though they had just thrown away the greatest opportunity of their lives.

At first, they’d thought it a waste of time—how could anyone find the former Crown Prince? Now, they thought the young master might really succeed. Even if it was only speculation, it gnawed at them.

“Forget it, what’s done is done. We’ll just wait for someone else to recruit us for another task.”

“It’s all Xu Hongfei’s fault. We wouldn’t have left if not for him, not daring to quit on our own.”

“It doesn’t matter. We just didn’t believe the young master could succeed. Now, what do you think his chances are?”

“If it were just an ordinary Black Lamp officer, the chances would be slim. But since it’s the young master, who knows? Even if he fails, maybe the Director will let him take the credit later...”

Their bitter discussion went on, each regretting their decision.

Meanwhile, Cheng Guang had already left the department with Xu Hongfei in tow.

Lin Cheng was waiting outside. Seeing Cheng Guang emerge, he rode over at once. “My lord.”

Cheng Guang nodded and mounted his horse. “Let’s go.”

Lin Cheng hurried after him. “My lord, where are we headed?”

Cheng Guang did not answer, but turned to Xu Hongfei. “Xu Hongfei, do you know where the demon clans have been appearing most frequently of late?”

Xu Hongfei responded promptly, “My lord, the demons have been sighted most often near Xiaobai Village, Xili Pond, Hanting Six Miles, and Nanping Village.”

He frowned as he continued, “Demon smuggling incidents are becoming more frequent. No one knows where these demons are coming from, and even the Director has been investigating with no results.”

“With the former Crown Prince’s case surfacing again, everyone’s attention is elsewhere. Now, when demons show up, all we can do is rush over and eliminate them.”

He paused, puzzled, and looked at Cheng Guang. “My lord, are you suggesting the demon smuggling is linked to the former Crown Prince?”

Xu Hongfei wasn’t slow—he sensed the question might relate to their task. Yet no matter how he thought, he couldn’t see how the two could be connected. Could the former Crown Prince be involved in demon smuggling?

He quickly dismissed the idea as absurd. How could the demons have contact with the former Crown Prince? And why would they cooperate? The two races were mortal enemies.

Still, he could not entirely convince himself. With a fugitive like the former Crown Prince, anything was possible.

Xu Hongfei lapsed into silence.

Cheng Guang neither confirmed nor denied, but smiled faintly and asked, “These places you mentioned—how far are they from the Grand Canal?”

Xu thought for a moment. “They’re not right by the canal—actually, quite some distance away.”

Cheng Guang raised a brow, intrigued. “Not near the canal at all?”

Xu Hongfei nodded, then pulled out a map as if struck by a thought. “Look, my lord. These places aren’t on the canal, but each is near a tributary...”

Cheng Guang glanced at the map and immediately understood. The demons weren’t fools; they knew not to gather too close to the main canal, lest their base be discovered. But by following the tributaries, they thought to avoid detection—unaware that someone with foreknowledge could see the pattern.

Cheng Guang decided to investigate along these tributaries first, hoping to find clues leading to the canal itself. He knew the temporal rift the demons used to smuggle themselves in was near Crane Cry Island, though he didn’t know the exact distance. With wards in place to block spiritual signatures, even walking right past the rift might not reveal it. He needed to narrow down the area, then search for the precise location.

Once found, there would be little left for him to do—he could leave the rest to Cheng Zhihai.

With that plan in mind, Cheng Guang prepared to leave the capital with his companions and head for the locations in question.

But before they could depart, Song Yunqi cast him a troubled look. This time, Cheng Guang was headed far from the capital, and Song Yunqi feared for his safety. After some hesitation, he said nothing, only sighed and led the other guards to follow closely behind.

Now that the young master was at least a Black Lamp officer, the Director should allow him to leave the capital. Besides, with a Gold Lamp officer like himself present, things should be safe enough—he tried to reassure himself, but remained vigilant.

If anything happened to the young master, even a hundred heads would not suffice to atone.

They set out from the capital at a rapid pace.

About three hours later, Cheng Guang arrived at Xiaobai Village, as Xu Hongfei had mentioned.

Nestled against hills and water, Xiaobai Village was tranquil. On its paths, white-walled, black-tiled homes, shimmering ponds, and mossy creeks could be seen. Ten miles away, a river flowed past—its waters swift and abundant, fed by the Grand Canal.

Following the river, Cheng Guang noticed many broken trees and signs of demon destruction. Upon reaching the village, he saw that courtyards were battered and walls marred, as though a violent storm had swept through.

A faint scent of blood still lingered in the air.

As Cheng Guang entered the village, wary eyes peered out from behind doors. Once the villagers recognized the newcomers as officers, they relaxed and came out to greet them.

“Honored officers of the Lamp-Bearing Department, forgive this old man for not welcoming you sooner,” said the village chief.

Cheng Guang observed that the villagers were all elderly, their hair gray, dressed in plain homespun—typical farmers. Dozens of old men gathered at the entrance, studying Cheng Guang curiously. Not a single young face could be seen.

Xu Hongfei frowned and asked, “Why are you still here, elder? There are signs of demon activity. If more come, what will you do?”

The village chief replied bitterly, “We know there’s a risk, but planting season is now—if we don’t tend the fields, there will be no harvest next year, and our families will starve. All the young men, women, and children have been sent to the city. Only us old folks remain. If we die, we’re worth little—so there’s no need to worry.”

He then asked, “Have the demons returned? Is that why you’ve come?”

He sighed, “Those damned demons—who knows when they appeared, but many have died because of them. Thank the heavens for the Lamp-Bearing Department, or we’d have no hope against such monsters. But you must be cautious, sirs—don’t let them harm you.”

The talkative chief continued to chatter, even though Cheng Guang and the others made little reply. Xu Hongfei, himself from a poor rural background, felt sympathy for the villagers. He knew that forcing them to leave would mean no crops, and starvation regardless of demons.

Cheng Guang frowned as well. Even here, so close to the capital, life was this harsh—old men risking their lives to farm. He dared not imagine what life was like in more remote places. Things had improved somewhat under the current emperor, but in the past, farmers had been preyed upon by officials and nobles, losing nearly all their harvest. Starvation was common.

“Would you care for some tea, sirs? We have little, but you’re welcome to rest and have a bite,” offered the chief.

Cheng Guang shook his head. “Thank you, but no. Chief, do you know where the demons appeared?”

The chief pointed toward the riverbank. “Over there—the demons came from that direction and took many of our young people. If not for your department, the village would have been destroyed.”

His face was stricken with grief.

Cheng Guang fell silent. Even from afar, he’d smelled the blood, but had not expected things to be so dire.

“Let’s take a look,” he said, heading toward the indicated spot.

Lin Cheng and Xu Hongfei followed, the chief leading the way.

Soon, they reached the riverbank. There, large demon footprints and lingering demonic aura marked the ground—the strongest they’d encountered.

Judging by the aura, the demon was at least Fourth Grade—not particularly strong, but not weak either.

Cheng Guang stroked his chin thoughtfully. He knew the demons had attacked Xiaobai Village not just out of hunger, but to coordinate with Bai Shuxuan’s assassination attempt on him, drawing Cheng Zhihai away from the capital and increasing the chances of success. Though the plan failed, the subsequent investigation into demon smuggling was disrupted by other events, and now the case of the former Crown Prince had taken precedence.

The priority of this matter had shifted. Compared to the prince’s case, demon smuggling was too minor to warrant attention. If not for Cheng Guang’s investigation, no one would have cared.

He squatted by the riverbank. The demons had swum upstream, leaving few tracks—hardly enough to trace all the way to the canal and pinpoint the temporal rift. Still, it allowed him to estimate the general area.

He stood and smiled at the chief. “There shouldn’t be any more demons here for now. If anything unusual happens, report it to the authorities and we’ll handle it.”

The chief nodded gratefully, though his fear of officials was evident. For peasants, the government was best avoided if possible; only in dire straits would they seek help.

Cheng Guang could read this in his expression, and sighed inwardly. After circling the area, he set off for the other villages Xu Hongfei had mentioned.

Over several days, he traversed the canal region for thousands of miles around the capital, investigating every village where demons had appeared.

He discovered a pattern: the weaker the demon, the closer the village was to the canal’s temporal rift. Stronger demons could travel farther, spreading the danger.

By this logic, Xiaobai Village and its surroundings, which saw the weakest demons, must be nearest to the rift.

Indeed, Xiaobai Village was quite close to Crane Cry Island, the suspected site—just a few miles away, mainly because the river meandered.

With this realization, Cheng Guang’s brows twitched. After all this searching, he was back at the starting point.

So it was right here.

But the rift itself was a gathering place for powerful demons, perhaps even a Demon Emperor. He dared not provoke them.

When in doubt, he thought, never panic—fetch reinforcements.

...

(End of chapter)