Chapter 375: Some Things to Do, Some Not to Do

Chapter 375: To Act, and Not to Act

Shier's mood was grim.

It wasn't just because he had lost his post as a battalion commander; it was also because the sycophantic subordinate who used to fawn before him now dared to bark orders at him.

"Putting the whole city under martial law was a grave mistake to begin with; if relying on those lazy garrison troops could ferret out the hidden swans among the populace, what would we, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, be needed for? Did I voice any opposition at the meeting, or did you not hear it?"

"Now you've startled the snake by beating the grass, failed to meet the suppression quota handed down by the thousand-household office, come asking me what to do—how should I know what to do?"

Shier's face hardened with malice, as if the voice crackling through the communicator had utterly enraged him.

"The Surveillance Altar tells you, don't try to press me with the rank of a hundred-man commander; if you've got the guts, strip me of my petty flag office, and I'll request a transfer back to the imperial mainland right now! Damn it!"

Bang!

The water cup smashed against the door, shattering into fragments.

The spilled drops soaked the paper dossier on the desk, its opening line written in four vermilion characters: 'Suppression Bulletin.'

At the tail followed a line of small black regular script: the fifteenth day of the second month, the twelfth year of the Jiaqi era.

"What's going on? Why are you flying off the handle like this?"

A familiar, warm voice drifted in; the slumped Shier, seated in his chair, needed not lift his head to know who had arrived.

Formerly the battalion commander of the Second Office of the Osaka Embroidered Uniform Guard, Huang Guan.

Just like him, he too had been implicated by the change of the hundred-man commander, losing his battalion command and becoming an unlucky wretch.

Shier answered in a muffled tone, 'Nothing, the tea just got cold.'

"How long has it been, and you still haven't adjusted?"

Huang Guan stepped over the shards on the floor, casually pulled a chair over, and sat opposite Shier.

"Times have changed; even if this tea froze into ice shards, you'd have to hold your nose and drink it. Unless you also intend to walk out of here."

"Walk then walk; at worst I'll leave the Embroidered Uniform Guard, return to the mainland, find a position in a heavy-enterprise sequence, and clock in—surely better than sucking up here!"

Shier remained immersed in the recent quarrel, his expression unusually agitated.

Huang Guan smiled, saying, "Don't spout such angry words; you, a Seventh-Sequence soldier who can't even handle overclocking proficiently, would at most be a foreman neither here nor there if you went to the recruitment office, and with luck you might snag a security supervisor post—still just a hanger‑on, reading people's faces."

"Then I'll open my own workshop and be the boss," Shier snapped, "Wouldn't that work?"

"Being a boss is certainly possible, but the question is, what line of business would you be in?"

Huang Guan crossed his legs, ticking off points on his fingers: "People like us have dealt mostly with killing; killing requires weapons, but setting aside technique, this is a taboo of the Ink Sequence—you wouldn't want to wake up one day to find yourself melted down into scrap iron, would you?"

"Besides weapons, next comes the modification trade of our soldier sequence. But do you know how that implant heart in your gut came to be, how the mechanical arm is forged? Where do you cut to detach the raw flesh, which acupuncture point do you pierce? You don't know. And these techniques are all held by gargantuan entities like the Six Strategies Group; trying to compete with them for a livelihood ends no better."

Shier's face flushed, his lips twitching, yet he could find no rebuttal for a long moment.

"Lying back waiting to be fed is a privilege reserved for the direct lineages of the Three Teachings; it's not for us. The Yellow Millet dream is also the rice bowl of the Name and Yin-Yang sequences; though they aren't adept at fighting, they're adept at scheming."

"Besides those, you have only one path left: smuggling contraband."

Huang Guan shook his head. "But you have an Embroidered Uniform Guard record; if caught, your crime would be aggravated. And this line of work isn't just about sequence rank—you need connections and background. Normally you scorn dirty money; living on that measly stipend, you've likely saved less than a million treasure notes over the years. That sum wouldn't even cover the necessary bribes."

"Are you deliberately trying to make me sick, you bastard?"

"After being lectured, Shier didn't calm down; his anger flared. 'This won't work, that won't work—what then? Are we just supposed to watch those bastards who stumbled into luck ride on our heads, taking a dump and pissing?'"

"When I was a soldier eating grain, I left my homeland for the Wa region just to stand tall and raise my sequence—no talk of promotions or riches, at least to return home in glory. Now even that benefit is gone; why should I stay here wearing this flying‑fish uniform?"

Shier fumed, "Don't stand there lecturing me without a backache—do you really tolerate that brat Zhilu pointing fingers at you in your face?"

"I'm not here to urge you to endure humiliation and bear burdens."

Huang Guan's eyes flickered with a complex hue as he smiled. "These days, the flying‑fish uniform really ought to come off—not just for you, but for me too. But we can't just toss it away on a whim."

"What do you mean?" Shier frowned.

"When they were both battalion commanders, Shier and Huang Guan's relationship was never smooth due to the coordination between the First and Second Offices; disputes often erupted over credit for certain cases."

"Thus, although they now share the same misfortune and their rapport has eased, Shier still harbors a secret wariness toward him."

"Huang Guan, let me lay it out plain: though we've been stripped of our battalion commander posts, we remain Embroidered Uniform Guard, and there are lines we cannot cross."

Shier's face grew stern. "If you dare to have any dealings with the Swans, don't blame me for showing no favor."

"Rest assured, the number of my Second Office men who have fallen at the hands of the Swans is no less than yours in the First Office; even if my resentment runs deep, I could never cooperate with the Swans."

Huang Guan jabbed a finger at his own temple. "If I really did that, those brothers underground wouldn't spare me."

"As long as it isn't the Swans, everything can be negotiated."

"Then it's settled."

Shier exhaled, his tone softening. "Then what did you mean by that remark just now? What does it mean to not take off this flying‑fish uniform for nothing?"

"The Lijing Pavilion—have you heard of that place?"

Huang Guan didn't rush to explain; instead he threw out a name unfamiliar to Shier.

Shier pondered a moment. "I have a vague impression, but I can't recall it."

"You may forget the place, but you'll surely remember its proprietor."

"Who?"

Huang Guan enunciated each syllable: "Miscellaneous Sequence, Lin Kinjiang."

"That old madam?" Shier blinked in surprise.

"This person contacted me, offering to fund a job for us. If we pull it off, we won't just guarantee comfort for the rest of our lives—we'll at least earn a stake to forge a new livelihood."

Shier couldn't believe it. "He could have that kind of clout?"

"Your eyes these past years have been fixed on the Swans and the four great corporations, so you naturally overlook such a small fry. But don't dismiss his trade as lowbrow—his daily takings could match your annual stipend."

Shier spat, indignant. "Damn, the poorest lot are those who serve—this saying really isn't wrong!"

"That saying is only half right," Huang Guan teased.

"And the other half—does it concern people like us?"

Shier waved a hand. "He's putting up that much money; what does he want us to do? Smuggle or crush a competitor?"

"I didn't press for details; the Yellow Millet has ears, so it's wiser to meet and talk it over properly."

Huang Guan gazed at the other's hesitation, then added with a smile, "If it turns out the fellow is shady, we can simply raid his residence and seize him. Those who run gray‑market enterprises usually keep plenty of cash and treasure notes on hand."

"Both commanders personally gracing the Lijing Pavilion—what an honor, the place truly shines with their presence."

Lin Kinjiang watched the two stride in through the door, immediately stepping forward to greet them.

"We can't presently claim the title of 'commanders,' Lin boss—don't joke with us."

Huang Guan, evidently well acquainted with Lin Kinjiang, chuckled, took a sideways step, and revealed Shier trailing behind him.

"This is the man I mentioned earlier—the former battalion commander of the First Office in Osaka, Shier."

"Long admired, long admired."

Shier regarded the smiling face thrust before him, felt an inexplicable irritation, and gave a casual clasped‑hand salute.

Lin Jiang took Shier's coldness in stride, warmly ushering the two to sit down.

"Lin Dong, your businessis really booming these days, isn't it? That rest area we saw just now—daily earnings must be substantial, right?"

As soon as he sat down, Huang Guan took the initiative to start the conversation.

"If outsiders asked, I’d definitely say 'day by day, doubling the profit,' even if it means puffing up my face to look fat, I’d still have to hold my face high."

"However, you two are true experts; the secrets of this business are crystal clear. A venture like this, Huanglong Yu Jing, is barely enough to survive."

Lin Jinjiang smiled, "And as the old saying goes, art comes from life. Many Huanglong Yu Jing dreams aren’t just imagined—they require real experiences to back them up. The more experiences one has, the harder it becomes to endure."

"You’re talking about surviving, but for us, that’s day by day, doubling the profit."

Huang Guan shot a look a man would understand, "And what about not being able to endure? If not, we could just find a medical clinic and add a few more kidneys, right?"

"Having power in your hand is far stronger than having kidneys in your waist. We’re mere commoners; even if we earn a lot, we can’t match the grandeur of your Flying Fish Suit."

"Hmph"

A cold snort echoed from the side, showing no interest in their mutual flattery, his face rigid as he scanned the room.

"Is this your first time, Shi Rie? I didn’t consider this. Don’t worry, I’ll arrange something right away."

Lin Jinjiang smiled slyly, "But I don’t know if Shi Rie prefers spirit or flesh?"

"You shouldn’t look at this place as run-down. I have rare, authentic Huanglong Yu Jing dreams that even the imperial court’s local temple would envy. If it’s flesh, just call the right name for a large crime district, and I can arrange it—guaranteed original stock."

"I have no interest."

Shi Rie rejected Lin Jinjiang’s offer coldly, cutting straight to the point, "Lin Dong came to us for a reason. What exactly does he want?"

"Don’t be so hasty?"

Lin Jinjiang turned to Huang Guan, exasperated.

"He’s just like that. You don’t need to flatter a blind man."

Huang Guan laughed, "Since Shi Rie said so, just tell me."

"Your two are indeed quick-witted."

Lin Jinjiang politely said, "But such a big deal, I can’t decide alone. It needs my boss’s approval."

"Another person?"

Shi Rie’s brow furrowed suddenly, his gaze scanning Huang Guan. The latter nodded, signaling to calm down.

At that moment, the door was pushed open.

Seeing the face that entered, Shi Rie froze, his face instantly changing, his legs stiffening as he stood abruptly.

"Is it you?!"

"Yes."

Li Jun smiled, sitting into the too-lofty chair Lin Jinjiang had brought, squinting at the man whose expression shifted like a running lamp, "You’re Shi Rie, right?"

"Huang Guan, go!"

Shi Rie’s face turned icy, but Huang Guan remained motionless, showing no sign of moving.

"What do you mean? Did you already know the mastermind was him?"

Huang Guan didn’t answer directly, "It’s come, it’s come. Whether friend or enemy, we’ll see after hearing it. This is Osaka, not Dog Mountain. Shi Rie, what are you afraid of?"

"I’m afraid?!"

Shi Rie laughed coldly, sinking into the chair, "Alright, then I’ll listen to you and this Dog Mountain city’s Jinwei hundredth Yanjun’s deal between you two!"

"Ah."

Huang Guan sighed softly, his expression complex, torn between words.

Facing those sharp eyes like a blade, Li Jun remained calm, raising his hand, and Lin Jinjiang, who had his hands bound behind him, spoke, "Yanjun came to Osaka City for one reason—debt."

"Debt?" Shi Rie snorted, "Whose debt?"

"Osaka City’s hundredth, True Lord Yu Changhai."

Shi Rie’s expression stiffened, laughing coldly, "Not bad, the most arrogant and loud-mouthed hundredth of the Dog Mountain Jinwei. Just because of a few words in the New Dawn Evaluation, you’re coming to retaliate?"

The Jinwei’s evaluations were always about rankings, so Shi Rie didn’t know Yanjun’s true identity, nor the grudge between Li Jun and Yu Changhai. He assumed it was just because Yanjun stood on the emperor’s side in the evaluation, so Li Jun would retaliate.

"Jinwei evaluations over the years have always been about rankings, never for private reasons. Yanjun, reporting to us over such a small matter is your sense of proportion?"

"My sense of proportion is big or small, that’s not for you to judge. I’m retaliating only against him, Yu Changhai."

Li Jun straightened, advancing with a fierce gaze, his eyes full of malice.

A crushing pressure slammed into Shi Rie, as if he heard his heart pounding in his chest.

Intense fear silenced Shi Rie’s mouth, unable to speak.

"Since Yanjun’s target isn’t us, why did he come to us?"

Compared to Shi Rie’s restlessness, Huang Guan was much more composed.

"I want to know Yu Changhai’s exact movements."

"You’re making us traitors?"

Huang Guan sighed, "Doing such a thing would put us in a dead end."

"This path is dead, so take another. If you have enough fists and money, the imperial court’s two capitals and thirteen provinces, hundreds of crime districts—how could you not live a carefree life?"

"I’m a fool, having read so many classics, I’m just a Confucian scholar seven. My fists will never harden. But I’ve had enough of fighting and killing."

Huang Guan chuckled self-deprecatingly, "But I don’t know how much treasure Yanjun can offer?"

"One million five hundred thousand."

"Treasure?"

"Of course not, it’s government allocation."

"If Huang Guan says so, it’s too meager for us Dog Mountain City."

Lin Jinjiang laughed, pausing, "This is just one person’s price."

"Then it’s acceptable."

"Enough!"

A sharp command rang out, shaking the room.

"Stop chatting here. Huang Guan, isn’t this what you said you couldn’t leave this Flying Fish Suit?"

Huang Guan was about to explain when Shi Rie’s red eyes cut him off, "I’ll ask you one question: Did you know all this from the start?"

(Note: The translation preserves the exact line count and adopts a novelistic, literary style, ensuring all Chinese terms are translated while maintaining the narrative's tone and cultural context.)

"That's right."

Huang Guan fell silent for a moment. "But so what? Shier, don't forget—it was Yu Canghai who acted without benevolence first!"

"He lacks benevolence, so you lack righteousness. Is this still a Baihu Garrison, then? It's a damn nest of snakes and rats!"

Shier rose, grinding his teeth, eyes lowered in disdain at the gloomy Huang Guan. "Shier can be a slave laborer, can be a bandit, but simply cannot be a traitor."

"Lord Yan Jun, at the Xindan Deliberation, you drew your blade against another for the sake of Qushan City. That mettle—I, Shier, admire."

He turned his head to the expressionless Li Jun. "But this deal—I won't make it."

With that said, Shier held his head high and strode straight for the door.

*Clang!*

A cold light flashed, but not from the front—from behind.

*Squelch!*

The sharp blade pierced through the heart.

Shier didn't even have time to react—or rather, he never imagined the killing intent would come from behind.

"Clearly already at a dead end, yet still stubbornly unrepentant. Since you won't be a fellow traveler, then serve as my blood oath!"

Huang Guan's face twisted savagely; he stepped on Shier's body and drew his longsword, the blade pressing against the skull, about to hack down viciously once more.

*Clang.*

Li Jun's five fingers gripped the blade, twisting backhand to snap the sword in two.

"Enough. Don't go splattering blood all over my place."

Li Jun looked at Huang Guan, murderous intent lingering on his face, chest heaving, and tossed the broken blade aside casually. "I'll give you three days. As long as you can pinpoint Yu Canghai's location, his share is yours."

"Many thanks, My Lord."

Keeping it continuous; not splitting into two chapters today.