In the military tent, Commander Lei abruptly looked up as Deputy Commander Wang was shoved in, followed closely by Squad Leader Zheng Ming. His face instantly darkened like storm clouds.
"Zheng Ming!" he slammed the table and roared. "Offending your superior—do you know what crime that is?"
Zheng Ming was the alias Zheng Shangming used in the army.
Zheng Shangming casually pushed Deputy Commander Wang aside, paying no attention to the guards who had squeezed into the tent behind him.
He strode forward, planted both hands on the desk, and looked down at Commander Lei. "Using public office for private gain—do you know what crime that is?"
Commander Lei's fury was uncontrollable. He shot to his feet. "Since when do you dare speak to me like this, Zheng Ming!"
Zheng Shangming's hand flashed like lightning, pressing down on his shoulder and forcing him back into his seat. The force was so sudden and violent that a sharp crack rang out from Commander Lei's shoulder.
Before the guards could rush forward, Zheng Shangming snarled, "Allow me to re-introduce myself. The name is Zheng Shangming!"
"Surnamed Lei—you love flaunting your family background and connections, don't you?"
"The Commander of the Northern Garrison happens to be my father. Is that enough for you to compare? A minor Lei is all it takes to make your tail point to the sky? Why don't you go ask Lei Fuqian whether he recognizes you—or whether he recognizes me?"
Deputy Commander Wang, whom Zheng Shangming had shoved aside, suddenly felt his legs go weak. Commander Lei himself felt his heart sink.
He finally understood why that person had instructed him to deal with what seemed like a small fry.
The small fry was anything but small. From start to finish, the only "small" one had been him, Commander Lei.
Though he shared the Lei surname, he was only from a branch family. Lei Fuqian was the new generation's leader of the Lei clan—he had never even met the man, let alone been recognized by him.
He understood perfectly well the weight of the position held by the Commander of the Northern Garrison.
The so-called Northern Garrison was actually the Capital Patrol Office. It was called "Northern Garrison" only because its offices were in the northern part of the city.
There were plenty of official offices in the northern district, yet the Northern Garrison had become synonymous with the Capital Patrol Office. That alone spoke volumes about its authority.
The rank of Linzi Patrol Commander was not particularly high on the official scale, but it wielded tremendous real power—responsible for maintaining order throughout Linzi. Zheng Shi, the Northern Garrison Commander, was one of Linzi's most powerful figures, far beyond what a mere commander like him could compare to.
A straightforward comparison: in the entire Rain-Cutting Army, never mind the generals and deputy generals above—even commanders like him numbered a total of eighty. But in the Northern Garrison, Zheng Shi was unquestionably the supreme authority.
Only now did he realize who it was he had been throwing his weight around against.
Even so, Commander Lei forced himself to hold firm. "No matter who you are or what your status is, this is the Rain-Cutting Army, not some lawless back alley. Here, you follow our rules!"
After all, his personal guards were watching. He couldn't lose too much face.
The Rain-Cutting Army was indeed one of the Nine Companies, with strict military discipline.
However, the word "rules" was always relative.
Zheng Shangming said coldly, "If I wanted to, I could sit in your seat tomorrow. You want to lecture me about rules? About status? About rank?"
There was no exaggeration in his words. Back when Chongxuan Sheng had been in the Autumn Slaughter Army, his starting position to avoid suspicion was deputy commander. If Zheng Shangming had leveraged his family connections to secure a military position at full strength, even a deputy general would not be difficult—and commander was available anytime.
Because his words were no bluff, they carried all the more menace.
Commander Lei's voice finally came out strained. "What do you want?"
"I don't want anything from you. Someone like you has never been worth my attention."
As he spoke, Zheng Shangming cast a glance at Deputy Commander Wang, who had shrunk back. Neither this Lei nor this Wang was any good.
He kept his gaze fixed on Commander Lei. "Now you need to give me an explanation. Why did you insist on sending me to tail the Green Ram Town lord? Or rather— who instructed you to do it?"
"Wen Lianmu," Commander Lei said promptly, knowing when to cut his losses.
The name was unexpected.
Zheng Shangming furrowed his brow in thought, then recalled who this person was. He asked coldly, "Where is he now?"
"He should be at the Grand Marshal's manor," Commander Lei said.
A flicker of mockery and satisfaction passed through his eyes.
Even the son of the Northern Garrison Commander, he thought, would not dare confront a disciple of the War God head-on.
But in Zheng Shangming's mind, only one thought burned—so it really was him!
And a single emotion erupted like a spark bursting into flame.
It was a fury that could no longer be held back for a single instant longer.
...
In the Grand Marshal's manor.
Wen Lianmu rested his chin on one hand while the other tapped a white chess piece against the board, now and then, in no particular rhythm.
Tap tap, tap, tap tap tap.
The sound was erratic and maddening.
Yet seated cross-legged across from him, Wang Yiwu remained utterly unresponsive, still immersed in his own cultivation.
After an unknown stretch of time, Wen Lianmu let out several massive yawns before Wang Yiwu finally opened his eyes.
The sudden rise and fall of his aura in that moment sent a chill through Wen Lianmu, who instantly sobered up.
"Hey!" Wen Lianmu tossed the chess piece into its jar with a crisp clatter. "You promised Chongxuan Zun you'd watch over his affairs. How is it fair that you hole yourself up all day cultivating and do nothing else, leaving me to do all the busywork?"
Wang Yiwu regarded him with a glance, neither warm nor cold. "If I hadn't sought you out, would you have stepped forward to help Ah Zun?"
"Of course not," Wen Lianmu snapped. "I barely know him!"
"See? That's exactly why I did it."
Wang Yiwu's tone was the same infuriating one as always, yet utterly matter-of-fact.
Wen Lianmu gritted his teeth in frustration for a moment before finally giving in helplessly. "Fine, be as stubborn as you want. I can't beat you right now anyway..."
"You never could beat me," Wang Yiwu said flatly.
Wen Lianmu was choked silent.
"You never will beat me either," Wang Yiwu added. He paused, then said, "Not in this lifetime. I am the strongest."
Wen Lianmu: ...
Wen Lianmu suspected that one day he would actually die of rage from this man.
What did they call it when a scholar ran into a soldier?
What did they call overwhelming force trumping all technique?
He, Wen Lianmu, possessed extraordinary intellect and exceptional martial prowess, yet this fellow simply...
Wang Yiwu waved a hand before his face. "Wake up. Stop staring into space. Shall we get to some real business?"
Wen Lianmu took a deep breath and told himself not to keep score.
Then he spoke. "The first phase of the plan didn't exactly succeed. Jiang Wang is no fool. Get ready—Zheng Shangming is going to come knocking. I don't want to end up in some ugly brawl."
"A mere Zheng Shangming—I could kill him with one hand. What's there to prepare?" Wang Yiwu declared with supreme confidence.
Wen Lianmu sucked air through his teeth, finally losing his patience. He exploded, "Who asked you to kill him?! Why would you kill him for no reason? Killing Zheng Shangming is easy—what about Zheng Shi? Can you kill him too?"
Wang Yiwu showed not the slightest awareness that he was in the wrong. "Hard to say until we've crossed fists."
You wanted to fight the Northern Garrison Commander too?!
Wen Lianmu was ready to lose his mind.
He managed, with great difficulty, to calm himself down and spoke as evenly as he could. "Just do as I say, all right? Teach him a lesson, let him see the gap between you—that's enough. All right? Don't humiliate him, don't cripple him, and absolutely do not kill him. All right?"
Three consecutive "all right"s had utterly drained a lifetime's worth of patience.
But Wang Yiwu merely looked at him with a half-hearted expression, as if to say, You're being strange.
His final answer: "Fine."