My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

In the front hall, Prefect Chen Wanghai sat calmly, holding a teacup.

Lu Wenyuan was slightly taken aback when he entered the room.

Chen Wanghai is fifty-three years old this year. He usually looks sallow and tired.

But today she looks much younger than before, with fewer wrinkles on her face and a rosy complexion, like a completely different person.

"This humble official greets Your Excellency, Prefect." Lü Wenyuan bowed respectfully.

Chen Wanghai smiled and waved his hand: "Wen Yuan, there's no need for such formalities, please have a seat."

Lu Wenyuan took his seat, and the servants served tea again.

Chen Wanghai took a sip of tea, chatted for a bit about the weather and official business, then suddenly changed the subject: "Wen Yuan, are you still investigating those recent missing persons cases?"

Lu Wenyuan's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained calm: "Yes. This humble official dares not slack off."

Chen Wanghai nodded, his tone casual: "How's the investigation going?"

"There aren't many clues," Lü Wenyuan said cautiously.

"According to my investigation, most of these missing people are from the western part of the city. There are rumors that it is related to a peddler outside the city. But the peddler is dead, and there is no way to verify it."

Chen Wanghai hummed in response but did not reply.

After a few moments, Lü Wenyuan tentatively asked, "Does the Prefect have any instructions regarding this case?"

Chen Wanghai smiled and put down his teacup: "It's not really an instruction. I'm just reminding you that this case is almost done."

Lu Wenyuan's heart sank.

Is that good enough?

What does this mean?

He looked up at Chen Wanghai.

The other person still wore that friendly, money-making smile, but there was clearly something else hidden in their eyes.

Lu Wenyuan suddenly understood.

Chen Wanghai is involved in this case.

He remained silent for a moment before carefully choosing his words.

"Your Excellency, if I may be so bold as to speak, among those who have gone missing are 127 children."

One hundred and twenty-seven children, behind them are one hundred and twenty-seven families. I have personally witnessed how those fathers and mothers have fared over the years.

Chen Wanghai's smile faded slightly.

Lu Wenyuan continued, "I know that some things shouldn't be asked. But this case has been suppressed for three years, and if it continues to be suppressed..."

"What if we suppress it again?" Chen Wanghai interrupted him, his tone still calm, but with a hint of coldness.

"Wen Yuan, you're a smart man. Some things don't need me to spell them out."

Lü Wenyuan fell silent.

Chen Wanghai glanced at him, then suddenly smiled, reverting to his amiable demeanor.

"Alright, alright, let's not talk about that. Wenyuan, I've come to see you because I have something important to discuss."

He took an invitation from his sleeve and placed it on the table.

"Tonight, the Zhou family in the east of the city is hosting a banquet, inviting a few friends for a get-together. The Zhou, Wang, Li, and Zhao families are all prominent families in Jingyang Prefecture. I hope you can come as well."

Lu Wenyuan looked at the invitation but did not reach out to take it.

He knew it perfectly well.

These four families were all wealthy and powerful families in Jingyang Prefecture.

The Zhou family was in the medicinal herb business, the Wang family ran a money exchange, the Li family owned a silk shop, and the Zhao family were grain merchants.

What good can come of them getting together?

Connecting this to Chen Wanghai's words, he immediately understood.

This is an attempt to drag him down with them.

"I appreciate your kindness, Your Excellency," Lü Wenyuan declined.

"I haven't been feeling well these past few days, and I've been coughing badly at night. The doctor said it's not advisable to drink alcohol or attend banquets. I'm afraid I'll spoil your fun, sir."

Chen Wanghai glanced at him, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

A moment later, he smiled and took back the invitation.

"If that's the case, then so be it. Wenyuan, take good care of yourself."

He stood up, and Lü Wenyuan quickly followed suit, seeing him to the door.

Just before getting into the sedan chair, Chen Wanghai turned back and said with a half-smile, "Wenyuan, you'd better get better soon. After all, you have a long life ahead of you."

The sedan curtain fell, the sedan chair was lifted, and it gradually disappeared into the distance.

Lu Wenyuan stood at the door, watching the sedan chair disappear around the street corner.

As the autumn wind rises, it sweeps up a few fallen leaves.

He stood there for a long time.

He couldn't bring himself to do something like profiting from human suffering.

Even if he didn't take the official position, he wouldn't be able to do it.

He turned around and slowly walked back.

After walking a few steps, I looked up at the horizon again.

The dark cloud was still there, and the lightning was still striking, one strike after another, like a blow to his heart.

He didn't know what it was.

But he had a vague feeling that something big was happening.

Lu Wenyuan stood for a moment, then withdrew his gaze and walked into the government office.

The stack of files on the table was still in the same place.

He sat down, picked up the top one, and started reading it again.

......

After leaving the government office, Chen Wanghai's sedan chair did not return to his own residence, but instead passed through the most prosperous street in the east of the city and headed out of the city.

The sedan chair curtains were drawn low, and the sedan chair bearers hurried along.

These two men had followed Chen Wanghai for many years and knew what they should and shouldn't see. At this moment, they simply focused on their journey and didn't utter a single unnecessary word.

After traveling for about half an hour, the sedan chair stopped in front of a very large manor.

The manor gates were tightly shut, with two stone lions crouching in front of them. Dark red gemstones were inlaid in the eyes of the lions, gleaming eerily in the afterglow of the setting sun.

The vermilion gate was adorned with menacing copper nails, each one polished to a gleaming shine, yet exuding a coldness that kept people at a distance.

Chen Wanghai alighted from the sedan chair, straightened his clothes, and went to knock on the door.

The door opened a crack, revealing a blank face.

When the man recognized Chen Wanghai, he stepped aside and didn't say a word from beginning to end.

Chen Wanghai stepped inside, and the door closed silently behind him.

The manor is very deep.

After passing through three courtyards and around an artificial hill, a bright and open space suddenly appeared before me—not a house, but an open space surrounded by high walls.

In the center of the open space, there was a stone pavilion. There were no tables or chairs in the pavilion, only a blue stone slab with a strange symbol carved on it.

Chen Wanghai walked to the stone pavilion and stepped on the bluestone slab three times.

Two short and one long.

The ground suddenly began to shake. The bluestone slabs slowly sank, revealing a downward stone staircase.

Oil lamps were lit on both sides of the stone steps, their dim light casting long shadows on people's faces.

Chen Wanghai descended the steps.

The further down you go, the more humid the air becomes, with a faint, sweet, fishy smell.

The smell wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it made one feel suffocated, as if something was pressing on their chest.

At the end of the stone steps was a heavy wooden door.

The door was black, with the same symbol engraved on it.

Chen Wanghai pushed open the door.

Behind the door was a huge underground space, about three zhang square, with walls made of bluestone that had been polished smooth.

Several ventilation openings were carved out at the top, through which the faint light of the outside could be seen, but it was only as thick as a chopstick and could not illuminate the darkness underground.

The place is illuminated by oil lamps in the four corners, and—

The central altar.

That altar is exactly the same as the one under the Jin Guang Temple.

It is made of bluestone, three feet square, and about half a person high.

A huge, eerie symbol was engraved on the surface of the altar. At this moment, the symbol was glowing faintly, the dark red light flickering like a heartbeat, like breathing.

Four people stood around the altar.

Zhou Huai-ren, the head of the Zhou family, was in his sixties, thin and wiry, with a pair of sharp, restrained eyes. He stood with his hands behind his back, staring intently at the symbols on the altar.

He was the oldest here and the first to follow Chen Wanghai in doing these things.