Chapter Eighteen: The Greater Question

Passing through the back courtyard of the Duobao Market, one finds an elegant, secluded garden tucked away in the depths. In the center of this garden, a middle-aged man sits cross-legged, draped in a grey-brown robe.

His temples are dusted with grey, yet his face is entirely obscured by a solid black mask. Under the moonlight, the mask shimmers with a silver luster, and the twisted, grotesque patterns carved into it emanate a palpable sense of malice.

The man sits in meditation with his eyes half-closed. Beside him stands a figure in black, wearing a white chrysanthemum mask adorned with four golden stripes—this is the legendary master behind the Duobao Market. Judging by the eyes and brow, however, the figure is no more than twenty years old.

"Master, news has arrived from Chenliu..." the young man says respectfully, only to be cut off by the meditating man.

"Have you forgotten what I told you?" The middle-aged man does not even open his eyes. His tone is flat, yet it exerts an inexplicable pressure on the young man.

"Grand Proctor, news has arrived from Chenliu," the young man says hurriedly, a bead of cold sweat forming on his forehead.

The "Da Shui He" (Grand Proctor) was originally an office tasked with investigating extraordinary individuals—literally, those who asked "Who is he?" Over time, the name evolved into a title for the leader of the organization and the agents themselves. In this chaotic age, few remember the name; only the elders of noble families and the powerful elite still vividly recall the agency that struck terror into their hearts decades ago.

The Da Shui He was akin to the Ming Dynasty’s Embroidered Uniform Guard, but far more formidable. Established as early as the reign of Emperor Gaozu of Han, Liu Bang, it began as a mere palace guard before its jurisdiction expanded to maintaining public order across the empire.

It functioned like a modern police force, yet in those days, it lacked the influence to truly terrify the aristocracy. It was during the Rebellion of the Seven States in the reign of Emperor Jing that the power of the Da Shui He truly began to swell.

During the rebellion, most of the instigators were princes, nobles, and the powerful clans supporting them from the shadows. Emperor Jing greatly expanded the authority of the Da Shui He, tasking them with monitoring the entire nation. Countless secret agents and informants were deployed. It was during this suppression that the pervasive, omnipresent Da Shui He became a nightmare for the elite. Any noble or clan that posed a threat to the imperial family or the Han Dynasty could not escape their pursuit.

By the time of Emperor Wu, with the promulgation of the Edict of Grace, the Da Shui He became the Emperor’s invisible hand, brutally slaughtering any feudal lords who resisted or were dissatisfied with the edict. It was then that their power reached its zenith; they could execute anyone they deemed suspicious without prior approval from the throne.

Thus, the Da Shui He became a sword hanging over the heads of the nobility. They tried to guard against it, but the organization’s reach was so absolute that defense was impossible. It was only after Wang Mang’s usurpation and the restoration of the Han by Emperor Guangwu that the Da Shui He began to fade from public view, though a select few remained aware that it still existed in the deepest shadows of the empire.

The man sitting in the garden is the current master of this shadow organization—the Grand Proctor, Liu Zhiyuan.

"Speak."

***

"Yuan Shao and Yuan Shu have split their forces," the young man reports respectfully. "Yuan Shu has taken the bulk of the coalition army back to Hebei and Shandong, while Yuan Shao has left the main army behind, heading toward Luoyang with only a few guards and generals."

Seeing that the Grand Proctor remains unresponsive, the young man ponders for a moment before offering his own assessment: "I believe Yuan Shao has grander designs. I suspect he aims for the imperial court; his entry into the capital is likely an attempt to emulate Dong Zhuo. He will surely become a grave threat in the future and must be eliminated as soon as possible! As for Yuan Shu, he is shallow in intellect but vast in ambition. By retreating with his troops, he has already made himself an enemy of the world. Such a person is not worth worrying about."

After finishing, the young man steals a glance at Liu Zhiyuan, who remains motionless, as if asleep. The young man dares not utter another word, bowing his head and standing by in silence.

"A slight improvement from last time, but still not good enough." After a long silence, Liu Zhiyuan finally speaks, his eyes still closed.

Hearing this, the young man bows even lower.

"Yuan Shu is indeed a fool, but Yuan Shao is a man of deep calculations." Liu Zhiyuan opens his eyes, revealing pupils of a blood-red hue that lend him an eerie, demonic aura. "However, his ambition is not the court. His goals are much grander; entering the capital is merely a stalling tactic. He intends to contend for the Central Plains, carve up the land, and crown himself king."

"A few shrimp like them cannot stir up any real waves." Liu Zhiyuan stands slowly, brushes off his robes, and says gently, "Wenshu, your brain and your vision must improve alongside your cultivation."

Listening to the gentle words, Wenshu feels cold sweat drenching his back. Having spent over a decade by this man's side, he knows his master’s temperament all too well.

"This subordinate understands!" Wenshu bows lower still, his eyes fixed on his own toes.

"How is that person from the Chancellor's office?" the Grand Proctor asks nonchalantly.

"He has come to the Duobao Market..."

Before Wenshu can finish, Liu Zhiyuan reaches out and grips him by the throat. Wenshu is shocked; despite his own strength in the Heavenly Realm, he is captured with such ease that he cannot even sense the master using any internal energy. Looking into the freezing, murderous intent radiating from those red eyes, and feeling the suffocating grip, Wenshu feels the presence of death itself.

"Have I forgotten what I told you?" the Grand Proctor says, word by word, his eyes devoid of any emotion. "That person’s affairs are the highest priority. You must report on him before anything else."

"I... I will remember!"

***

With his throat held in a vice-like grip, Wenshu struggles to speak.

"If there is a next time, you won't need me to act—you can go receive your punishment yourself." Liu Zhiyuan tosses him aside into the corner of the wall as if he were trash. "Speak. Why has he come?"

Wenshu scrambles up from the ground, suppressing his inner terror. "My subordinates reported that he has arrived, saying he intends to buy slaves."

"Slaves?" Liu Zhiyuan’s eyes darken slightly, and the corners of his mouth curve upward beneath the mask. "Interesting."

"Take me to see."

"But Grand Proctor, you..." Before Wenshu can finish, he feels as if he is being watched by a venomous snake, and he promptly shuts his mouth.

"I see I have been too lenient with you lately," the Grand Proctor says coldly. "Go to the Sword Pavilion for two days of confinement afterward."

Hearing the words "Sword Pavilion," Wenshu trembles. It is a place for practicing swordsmanship, but it is also a purgatory; bone-chilling sword intent permeates the air. Two days there would leave him flayed, if not dead, but he can only bow in obedience.

"Yes!"

"Grand Proctor, please follow me!" Wenshu trots to the door and opens it respectfully.

Liu Zhiyuan watches Wenshu’s back with a flicker of mockery in his eyes before stepping out.

...

"Your Majesty, this is the place where slaves are traded." Fuhu has already led Liu Xie to a storefront, where a sign depicting a human figure hangs.

This is the shop of a slave trader.

"Let's go in and take a look."

Liu Xie glances at the sign and steps inside.