A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

Ji Zuodao gestured, indicating that they should split up and search separately.

He went straight to his bedroom in the backyard.

Lifting the curtain, you'll find a small bedroom inside.

There wasn't even a ghost in sight.

Ji Zuodao stood in the empty bedroom, his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

Damn it, according to 749's intelligence, the guy surnamed Zhu should be staying at the shop.

Where is he? Why isn't he home in the middle of the night? Where has he been gallivanting off to?

He went around again, searching every nook and cranny of Chengguzhai, inside and out, even the toilets.

As a result, they couldn't find a single person, or even a mouse.

Ji Zuodao stood in the middle of the messy shop, his face extremely ugly.

In the middle of the night, he led his men, drugged them, picked the lock, and sneaked in, going through the whole process, only to find nothing.

It felt like putting all your strength into a punch, only to hit a piece of cotton, almost straining your back.

"Where is he?" Xiong Meng scratched his head, looking equally bewildered. "Didn't the intelligence say he was staying at the inn?"

"The intelligence is wrong." Ji Zuodao gritted his teeth and squeezed out four words.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the anger rising within him, and then waved his hand: "Forget it, since the person isn't here, let's not waste this trip."

He turned to Jin Xiaoman and said, "Xiaoman, take a look at this shop and move everything of value."

Jin Xiaoman's eyes lit up, and she immediately perked up.

This is exactly what Jin Xiaoman was waiting for.

His eyes lit up, and he darted out like a mouse that had fallen into a rice jar, starting to ransack the store.

"This one! It's from the Chenghua period! It's valuable!"

"This one! From Yongle! It's worth more!"

"Holy crap! This! This looks like a Xuande piece! Authentic! Authentic! With this condition, it would fetch at least this much at auction!"

Jin Xiaoman held up five fingers and waved them in front of Ji Zuodao.

Ji Zuodao looked at him expressionlessly: "Speak like a human being."

"Starting at 50 million!"

Ji Zuodao's eye twitched.

He suddenly remembered something.

A few days ago, Zhu Cheng gave him a box containing a cup.

He even complained that they were stingy, saying they didn't even have a lid.

Later, he casually gave the cup to Su Xiaoxiao, who was quite unhappy about it.

"How much was that cup I gave Su Xiaoxiao worth?" he asked Jin Xiaoman.

Jin Xiaoman tilted her head and thought for a moment:

"A Chenghua doucai grape-patterned cup? If it's in good condition... a similar one appeared at the last auction, and it sold for... I think it was over a billion."

Ji Zuodao felt his heart skip a beat.

"How many?"

"Over a billion."

Jin Xiaoman looked completely at ease.

"That's a Chenghua doucai porcelain, fired in the imperial kiln. Very few exist, and even fewer are on the market. I've seen the one you gave to the young lady. It's in excellent condition, with a thin body, a lustrous glaze, and exquisite painting. It's top-quality. If it were auctioned, it would be worth at least a billion yuan."

Ji Zuodao stood there, completely petrified.

He recalled how he had described the cup at the time—"A broken cup, it doesn't even have a lid."

Over a billion...

He felt as if his heart was bleeding, drop by drop, like a leaky faucet, and he couldn't stop it.

Su Xiaoxiao walked up to him without him noticing. Seeing his expression of utter despair, she couldn't help but cover her mouth and chuckle softly.

"What's wrong? Are you worried about me?"

Ji Zuodao turned his head expressionlessly and looked at her: "What do you think?"

Su Xiaoxiao blinked her fox-like eyes and said with a smile, "How about... I give the cup back to you?"

Ji Zuodao opened his mouth, wanting to say "okay," but swallowed the words back.

What's the point of taking back something you've given away?

Although Ji Zuodao was not exactly a gentleman, he would never do something so shameful.

"No need." He gritted his teeth and squeezed out those three words.

Seeing his expression—clearly heartbroken but trying to put on a brave face—Su Xiaoxiao laughed even harder, her eyes curving into crescents: "How about I just drink tea from your cup?"

Ji Zuodao was stunned for a moment.

Su Xiaoxiao tilted her head, smiling at him, a mischievous glint in her fox-like eyes:

"Anyway... I don't mind sharing a cup with you."

Ji Zuodao remained silent for three seconds.

Well, everyone knows what Su Xiaoxiao is thinking.

Jin Xiaoman moved very quickly.

In less than twenty minutes, he had packed up everything in the store that had any value.

Porcelain, calligraphy and paintings, jade, and bronzes filled three large bundles, tied tightly together, like a house move.

"That's all?" Ji Zuodao asked.

"That's it." Jin Xiaoman clapped her hands, looking satisfied. "I took everything I could, even those few copper coins under the counter."

Ji Zuodao nodded, looked around at the shop that had been swept clean, and then began to set up the scene.

He pushed the counter over, pulled open the drawers, and rummaged through the contents, making a mess of everything.

He pushed the display shelf askew, smashing several worthless imitations on the ground, scattering fragments everywhere, making it look like a real theft.

He even pried open a hole in the window to create the appearance of a burglary.

After everything was arranged, he clapped his hands and nodded in satisfaction.

"Walk."

Ji Zuodao and several demons disappeared silently into the night, leaving no trace.

Half an hour later.

Deep within Wutong Lane, a dark figure silently crept back once again.

It is Ji Zuodao.

He came back alone, without anyone with him.

He walked to the entrance of Chengguzhai, but did not push the door open. He simply stood outside and listened for a while.

The shop was quiet and still, without any noise.

He went around to the back window and looked inside—the shop was still the same as when he left, a mess and empty.

"There's nobody here," he muttered, scratching his head before turning and disappearing into the night.

It was early morning, just as dawn was breaking.

As the first rays of dawn touched the walls of Wutong Lane, a very slight ripple appeared in the air inside Chengguzhai shop.

It's like a pebble thrown into calm water, creating ripples in the air that are almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

Then, two figures appeared out of thin air in the center of the shop.

One was Zhu Cheng, dressed in a gray-blue long robe, his hair neatly combed, his face calm and revealing no emotion.

The other one was Old Huang, wearing a drab gray jacket and carrying a bundle, following half a step behind Zhu Cheng.

As soon as the two appeared, they saw the mess in the room.

The bookshelf was empty, the drawers were ransacked, the chair was overturned, the books on the shelf were scattered all over the floor, and there were a few broken tiles on the ground.

Even the antique-style lantern by the door was trampled flat and lay pitifully on the ground, like a broken, abandoned shoe.

Zhu Cheng stood in the center of the shop, watching everything with a blank expression.

He didn't speak, he didn't speak, and even his breathing didn't change.

He just stood there, like a statue, silently watching the mess.

After a long while, he slowly spoke, his voice so calm that it betrayed no emotion: "Old Huang."

"Your subordinate is here."

"Do you think Ji Zuodao has something wrong with him?"

Old Huang was silent for a moment, then cautiously replied, "My lord means..."

"I had just seen him during the day, and he sneaked into my shop that night."

Zhu Cheng turned around and looked at the broken window latch.

"They drugged me, picked the lock, and broke in—all in one smooth motion. Finding no one, they took all the valuables from my shop. What they couldn't carry, they smashed. Before leaving, they even flattened my lantern."

He paused, then added, "And he even came back in the middle of the night. He only left after making sure I really wasn't there."

Old Huang opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, finally letting out a complex sigh.

"My lord, please forgive my bluntness—this Section Chief Ji is a natural-born commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. If he were in the Ming Dynasty, he would definitely be a treacherous and wicked talent."

Zhu Cheng turned his head and glanced at Lao Huang: "Are you praising him?"

"Your subordinate wouldn't dare," Old Huang quickly lowered his head. "Your subordinate was merely... speaking from the heart."

Zhu Cheng withdrew his gaze, looked at the mess in the room, remained silent for a few seconds, and then sighed softly.

"Never mind, the things are gone, as long as everyone is alright."

He walked to the empty display shelf, stretched out his finger, and gently wiped it on the shelf, leaving a thin layer of dust on his fingertip.

He glanced at the dust on his fingertips, then at the empty display shelf, and suddenly said, "Old Huang, do you think I shouldn't have gone to see that prince?"

Before Lao Huang could answer, Zhu Cheng shook his head: "Never mind, let's take it slow. There's no need to rush."

The next second, Zhu Cheng disappeared again, and when he reappeared, he was carrying a bunch of bottles and jars.

Blue and white porcelain vases, bronze incense burners, purple clay teapots, and jade ruyi scepters were piled up like a small mountain.

He placed each item back on the display shelf, arranging them neatly. Then he stepped back two paces, looked at them, and then stepped forward to adjust the position of one of the vases.

"Alright, that's enough for now. We'll order another batch later."

Old Huang stood to the side, watching his master tidy up the shop as if nothing had happened, and felt a mix of emotions.

He always felt that after the master clashed with that Section Chief Ji, his days became more and more fulfilling.