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

A large group of people were inside the Forbidden City, creating quite a lively scene.

The monsters from the Demon Management Department ran around the various palaces, touching and bumping into things like a bunch of huskies causing chaos in the Forbidden City.

Those officials who acted strangely, however, suffered the consequences.

They were working diligently in their respective positions, following the pre-set procedures.

Some were reviewing memorials, some were inspecting the palace defenses, some were teaching young eunuchs etiquette, and some were checking the accounts in the storeroom.

The results of it?

A group of monsters that appeared out of nowhere disrupted their rhythm.

What kind of monsters and demons are these?

A group of officials, behaving strangely, scrambled towards Zhu Cheng, their heads nearly bleeding from kowtowing, crying out, "Your Highness! Your Highness! The rites and music have collapsed! The rites and music have collapsed!!"

Zhu Cheng sat in his study, holding a book in his hand, reading quietly.

Hearing the cries of the officials, he looked up, his brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed, and continued reading.

"Your Highness!" The leading old official knelt on the ground, tears streaming down his face. "That group of people...that group of people are causing trouble in the Hall of Supreme Harmony! Some are even sitting on the dragon throne! Some have even gone into the inner palace! Your Highness! You must do something about it!"

Zhu Cheng turned a page of his book without looking up: "I understand. You may all leave now."

"Your Highness!"

"Get out of here."

Zhu Cheng's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

The old official opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but seeing Zhu Cheng's "I don't want to repeat myself" expression, he had no choice but to swallow his words, kowtow, and lead the group of officials out of the study.

The study fell silent once more.

Zhu Cheng continued reading, turning one page, then another.

He didn't want to get involved in it.

I really don't want to get involved.

He thought that Ji Zuodao was nothing but a pile of stinking dog shit. Arguing with dog shit would only bring trouble upon oneself.

Ignore him; he'll calm down once he's had his fill of fuss.

But as it turns out, he underestimated Ji Zuodao's limits.

That evening, Zhu Cheng sat by the window of his bedchamber, holding a copy of the Zizhi Tongjian (Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government), quietly reading it in the setting sun outside the window.

The afterglow of the setting sun streamed in through the carved windows, spreading a warm orange carpet of light across the floor.

The room was quiet, with only the sound of him turning pages and the occasional chirping of birds from outside the window.

The years are quiet.

Then--

"BOOM!!!"

A loud bang came from above his head.

The entire palace was shaking violently. Books on the shelves crashed to the ground, and teacups on the table tipped over with a clatter, dripping tea down the edge of the table and spreading a dark stain on the floor.

Dust fell from the roof with a "rustling" sound, covering Zhu Cheng's head and face.

The book in Zhu Cheng's hand fell to the ground with a "thud".

He sat by the window, still in the position of reading, completely still.

His hair, shoulders, and knees were all covered in dust.

He remained silent for three seconds.

Then, he slowly raised his head.

He saw that the roof above his head was gone.

Really gone.

The roof was completely ripped off, revealing the orange-red sky of dusk and a few clouds tinged red by the sunset.

A dark figure stood in the gap in the roof, backlit, holding a steel pipe. He grinned at him, revealing a set of white teeth: "Hey, Old Zhu, reading a book?"

Zhu Cheng looked at the backlit figure, at his white teeth gleaming in the sunset, and felt his blood pressure visibly rising.

He took a deep breath.

He took another deep breath.

Take another deep breath.

Then he spoke.

His voice was calm, unnaturally calm, like a volcano about to erupt, outwardly calm but inwardly churning with magma powerful enough to incinerate everything.

"Hime Zuodao... what exactly do you want?"

Ji Zuodao stood on the roof, twirling the steel pipe in his hand, watching him with a smile:

"Nothing much, just doing what 749 does. It's such a rare opportunity to film in the Forbidden City, wouldn't it be a shame not to make a TV series?"

He paused, then added:

"Anyway, you're not worried about damaging this Ming Dynasty secret realm; it'll be brand new the next day, right?"

He spoke casually when he said his last sentence.

Zhu Cheng's expression, however, froze slightly for a moment.

The change was so subtle that you wouldn't notice it unless you were staring intently at his face.

But Ji Zuodao noticed it.

Standing on the rooftop, looking down at Zhu Cheng, seeing his expression of "wanting to get angry but not being able to," he became even more certain of the idea in his mind.

Zhu Cheng did not respond to Ji Zuodao's last sentence.

He simply followed up on the first half of Ji Zuodao's sentence, changing the subject with a forced, suppressed calm in his voice:

"What kind of film would you all like to make? I can arrange the personnel and props for you."

Ji Zuodao tilted his head, put on a serious thinking expression, and then started counting on his fingers:

"It's not decided yet. The Fengtian Rebellion, the Tumu Crisis, the Renyin Palace Coup..."

He counted one, glancing at Zhu Cheng with a particularly sincere expression.

"Which one would you like to watch, Brother Zhu?"

Zhu Cheng's face immediately darkened.

His face was as black as the bottom of a pot, so evenly and thoroughly black.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but swallowed the words back down.

He opened his mouth again, as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

After repeating this three or four times, he finally flicked his sleeves, turned around, and walked out of the palace without looking back.

His silhouette, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, appeared exceptionally desolate and resentful.

Ji Zuodao stood on the rooftop, watching Zhu Chengyuan's departing figure, a wicked, smoky smile slowly creeping onto his lips.

Su Xiaoxiao's head peeked up through the gap in the roof.

She glanced at Zhu Chengyuan's departing figure, then at the smile on Ji Zuodao's face, leaned closer, lowered her voice, and said in an amazed tone:

"Wow, kid, is this guy a turtle? How can he endure so much?"

"If it were us monsters, we would have beaten the fox's brains out long ago. Tolerate? Tolerate my ass, let's fight first."

Ji Zuodao chuckled and casually tossed the steel pipe in his hand. The pipe rolled a few times on the glazed tiles, making a "clanging" sound, before sliding off the eaves and falling to the ground with a crisp "bang".

"His ability to endure it means he has something to hide."

Ji Zuodao dusted off his hands, his tone laced with sarcasm.

"Ha, he doesn't live like a human being at all. He doesn't live for himself for a single moment. He's a pathetic wretch."

Su Xiaoxiao tilted her head, a thoughtful glint in her fox-like eyes: "You mean... he has some kind of hidden reason?"

"A predicament?"

Ji Zuodao gave a cold laugh.

"Everyone has their own troubles. Does having troubles give you the right to scheme against others? Does having troubles give you the right to make a move on my Qiqi? Give me a break. Troubles are not excuses, they are choices. He chose this path, so don't blame me for being impolite."

Su Xiaoxiao looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then sighed softly: "Xiaodao, sometimes you see things more clearly than anyone else."

"That's right. Don't you even know who raised me?"

Ji Zuodao accepted the assessment without any modesty.