Chapter 67: The Division Chief
Everyone in the room rose in unison and gathered around the bed. The senior official from the Directorate in the capital looked mournful and asked in a heavy voice, “Old Zhao, are you alright?”
Zhao Peng shook his head faintly. His face was pale as he gazed at the people in the room and asked weakly, “Did Zeping pull through?”
Zhu Jia answered softly, “He’s fine now.”
“That’s good.” Zhao Peng looked at everyone and said, “I understand what you want to know, but don’t ask. Don’t ask about anything. Too many have died for the sake of justice in our hearts. That’s not something we can change…”
Sun Tong, the senior from the Directorate in the capital, spoke in a deep voice, “Old Zhao, you know the Directorate’s rules. With such heavy casualties, it’s impossible for us not to pursue the matter.”
Zhao Peng waved his hand, “Really, don’t ask. That’s thunder from the heavens.”
The Scholar wore a thoughtful expression, and the Mistress remained silent.
Sun Tong frowned. He vaguely understood Zhao Peng’s meaning, but this matter… it really could not be let go so easily. At the very least, the cause must be clarified.
“I will die,” Zhao Peng sighed, muttering, “Zeping… I fear he won’t make it either…”
Just as he spoke, a sudden, urgent scream erupted from the next room!
Song Yue dashed out of the door instantly, but in the next moment, it was as if he entered a strange space, and the whole world fell silent.
The Scholar, the Mistress, and Sun Tong followed him out.
A young man in white emerged from the adjacent room, his handsome face expressionless. His gaze swept over Song Yue and the others; in an instant, his eyes became profound, like a vast starry sky, as if they could draw in one’s soul.
A radiant light burst from the Scholar, runes flickering within it.
At the same time, a trace of blood appeared at the corner of the Scholar’s mouth.
“Old Lu, don’t move!” Sun Tong shouted, silver light radiating from him as well, runes sparkling.
Simultaneously, everyone felt their movements restricted.
Especially Song Yue, who found it difficult even to breathe, unable to move forward a single step.
“He was clever, didn’t tell you anything, but none of you will leave here alive.”
The white-clad youth spoke calmly, then pointed at Song Yue, “You first.”
A vast energy surged toward Song Yue, intent on crushing him.
The Scholar shouted, and the runes on him formed a shield before Song Yue.
Boom!
The world seemed to collapse.
The tremor was apocalyptic, with an overwhelming surge of energy in this strange space.
On Song Yue, the inscriptions on the Jade Void Monument began to glow. In that moment, Song Yue could suddenly move!
He drew the Dragon Pattern Blade, channeling Thunder energy into his right arm, wielding the blade as he activated the Eight Desolate Path Sutra and the Supreme Spirit Technique.
His mind surged with boundless grief and fury as he slashed at the white-clad youth.
“Oh?” The youth was surprised.
He hadn’t expected the seemingly weakest among them to unleash such a terrifying strike.
A magical artifact shot from his body, exploding in a blinding light as it collided with Song Yue’s blade.
Clang!
A metallic clang resounded.
Song Yue spat blood, feeling as if his whole body was splitting apart in pain.
Yet the white-clad youth was actually forced back several steps.
The Scholar’s rune-light transformed into a brilliant golden sword, stabbing at the youth.
The Mistress struck from the side, aiming at his ribs.
Bang!
With a thunderous crash, the white-clad youth was pierced by the Scholar’s sword, his body exploding into countless rays of light.
A voice echoed in the space—
“Even the sealed dare to fight so desperately? I’ll remember your faces. None of you will survive!”
As the voice faded, the strange space vanished in an instant.
Sun Tong immediately looked at the Scholar, worry deep in his eyes, “Old Lu, you…”
The Scholar waved his hand and shook his head, “I’m fine.”
Song Yue felt terrible.
His body was wracked with pain as if torn apart.
That strike had nearly exhausted all his potential.
Yet it only forced the opponent back a few steps.
And that wasn’t even a real person!
Just a projection!
The Mistress approached to steady Song Yue, asking, “Are you alright?”
Song Yue could barely speak, cold sweat pouring from his brow.
At that moment, Zhu Jia rushed out, her face streaked with tears, crying, “Boss Zhao is dead!”
The room fell into dead silence.
The enemy had used a technique, drawing everyone into another space through a projection, sacrificing it as the cost to kill Zhao Peng.
There was no need to ask—Sun Zeping was surely gone as well.
The projection had emerged from the adjacent room.
Days later.
At the Hangzhou funeral home, Song Yue and the others, dressed in black, were here to bid farewell to their colleagues from the Directorate.
Zhao Peng lay peacefully in his coffin, his expression serene, as if asleep.
The others were the same, lying quietly in their coffins.
Zhu Jia had cried herself unconscious, unable to accept the reality, and was taken outside by colleagues who had rushed back.
The Scholar hadn’t come.
After that battle, he had stayed home to recover, cared for by the Mistress.
Sun Tong and others from the capital and various branches were handling matters here.
Song Yue stood dazed at the door. Outside, the sky was deep blue and the sun shone brightly, but in his heart, the sky was gray.
He had used two great healing herbs to save Boss Zhao and Sun Zeping, but they still couldn’t escape the enemy’s pursuit.
Who was that white-clad youth?
He didn’t know.
He’d asked the Scholar and Sun Tong, neither recognized him.
But they guessed he was from the cultivation world.
Ha!
The cultivation world!
That place that looks down upon humanity.
The Scholar said the white-clad youth was human, a true cultivator.
His level should be at the Pill Gathering stage.
For Song Yue to force him back several steps with one strike was already a miracle.
But Song Yue didn’t want a miracle.
He wanted a divine act.
He wanted to kill him with one blow!
Why would a human cultivator slaughter the Directorate’s people so mercilessly?
It could only be that someone in the Directorate knew a secret that frightened him—a secret so huge that Boss Zhao dared not speak of it!
He’d rather die than implicate others!
Is this the real world of cultivation?
Song Yue’s mind was in turmoil.
In the days since, he’d received messages from Xiao Meng and others; the Hangzhou branch of the Directorate had nearly been wiped out, and such a disaster couldn’t go unnoticed—many were asking what had happened.
But Song Yue replied to none.
He hadn’t the heart.
He didn’t even want to visit Tianyue Star.
Then Sun Tong approached, looking at Song Yue, “You did well.”
He’d heard this from many in recent days.
Colleagues who rushed back from other places and officials from the Directorate praised him.
Calm in crisis, brave as a warrior, daring to draw his blade against a formidable enemy.
Song Yue had displayed all the qualities of an outstanding warrior.
But every time he heard such words, it felt like a cruel joke.
Did well?
He watched helplessly as his superior who cared for him died.
Outstanding?
His all-out strike only forced the opponent back a few steps, and if not for his master’s desperate sword, even the projection would not have been destroyed!
What was he?
A self-deluded wretch!
Song Yue’s eyes reddened.
Then he laughed at himself, shrugged, “Well, you certainly have a good eye!”
Sun Tong patted his shoulder firmly, “Don’t lose heart. The Hangzhou branch is yours now.”
Song Yue was stunned, looking up at Sun Tong, “What did you say?”
Sun Tong pulled him aside and sighed, “I know this appointment is sudden, and it may be a lot of pressure. But in the entire Hangzhou branch, no one is more suitable than you.”
Song Yue refused outright, “Impossible, there are several comrades left, and Zhu Jia too. How could I be the most suitable?”
“Besides, the Directorate can assign someone from outside!”
Sun Tong smiled wryly and shook his head. This young man hadn’t even grasped the Directorate’s rules yet. He himself hesitated—was it right to suddenly push such a young person into that role?
He had asked the Scholar for advice earlier, and the Scholar said to let Song Yue decide.
Pushing Song Yue wasn’t a rash decision. Last night, the Directorate’s senior staff convened in Hangzhou for a meeting.
Originally, they planned to assign a new director from outside.
After all, the Hangzhou branch suffered catastrophic losses, almost total annihilation!
Those who survived because they were away on duty had returned, but their morale was shattered.
Sun Tong spoke with them; like Zhu Jia, they all requested transfers.
It was impossible to stay here.
That building was full of memories of those who passed. They had spent years together, enduring life and death crises.
They were like family.
The Directorate’s people are human too, with feelings and desires. Such events are unbearable.
Sun Tong understood, and so agreed.
Transferring them was fine, but with that, the Hangzhou branch was emptied.
Only the special advisor, the limping Old Wolf, remained… Old Wolf was a demon; he could serve as advisor, but not as director.
So only two options remained.
First, assign someone from outside.
But no one wanted to come!
One, they were afraid—the branch had been wiped out, clearly for knowing some enormous secret and silenced. Who wouldn’t fear being targeted?
Two, all branches lacked staff; those suitable wouldn’t come, and those who wanted to… weren’t suitable.
So finally, remembering Song Yue’s stunning strike, Sun Tong and others nominated him, explaining—
He was responsible, reliable, calm in crisis.
Young, a warrior, but very smart.
And he was the Scholar’s disciple.
If the earlier qualities were the foundation, this last reason was the key.
The Scholar’s disciple was fit for this position.
Sun Tong patiently persuaded him, reasoning and appealing emotionally, but Song Yue still didn’t want to accept.
Especially after learning Zhu Jia and the surviving colleagues were leaving, he was even more reluctant.
“Uncle Sun, if they don’t want to go back to that office, why would I?” Song Yue looked at the senior who was close to his master. “I haven’t been with everyone long, but I have feelings too. Now, with everyone gone, am I to be left alone?”
“You can recruit your own people,” Sun Tong said. “You’ll have the highest authority.”
Song Yue looked at him, “I don’t even know the Directorate’s rules, don’t know the scope of responsibilities. How could a newcomer become branch director? It’s too rash!”
Sun Tong replied seriously, “A man must be willing to take responsibility.”
Song Yue said, “A man crying isn’t a sin, you know!”
He wasn’t being dramatic; he genuinely didn’t want to take on this mess, especially knowing Zhu Jia and the others were leaving. It even made him want to leave the Directorate as well.
At that moment, Zhu Jia and a few others walked in.
Though all were sorrowful, they seemed calmer than before.
Zhu Jia looked at Song Yue, “Do you remember what Boss Zhao said to you after your first day, after the banquet and sparring in the virtual space?”
Song Yue nodded, “I remember.”
Zhu Jia said, “Boss Zhao thought very highly of you. We are a bunch of useless deserters, but you’re different, Song Yue. You can support the Hangzhou branch. We selfish deserters can only count on you now.”
The other Hangzhou colleagues looked at Song Yue too. They didn’t know this new colleague well, but from Zhu Jia’s words, they learned what kind of person he was.
A man in his thirties spoke softly, “Zhu Jia is right. We are deserters, unable to stay and face everything, but you can.”
A middle-aged woman, her face bare and streaked with tears, looked at Song Yue, “It’s not that you don’t care for everyone, but at least you can keep going—we can’t.”
Song Yue looked at them; in truth, he wanted to call them cowards.
But he couldn’t say it.
Because even he, who hadn’t spent many days with them, was so heartbroken he could barely breathe. These people’s hearts must be shattered.
Just being able to attend the farewell was already remarkable. When they arrived, they only glanced at the departed, then broke down in tears—adults, but caring nothing for appearances.
He felt their grief.
“Let’s send Boss Zhao and the others off first. The rest can wait,” Song Yue sighed.
The funeral was solemn. Song Yue and the others accompanied Boss Zhao and the others’ coffins all the way to burial.
On the way back, Zhu Jia and the others went with him to the office building, along with a group of senior officials from the Directorate headquarters.
They gathered in the meeting room. Zhu Jia and her colleagues were silent.
Though the room was crowded, it felt strange—so many people, but nothing was the same.
The senior officials, together with Sun Tong, urged Song Yue to take on the responsibility of rebuilding the Hangzhou branch.
The Directorate wasn’t overly bureaucratic, so even the senior staff spoke plainly.
They didn’t claim the position was glorious or powerful, only told Song Yue that this ancient city needed the Directorate.
“We’ll give you the highest authority. You reorganize. If there’s anything you need, we’ll do our best to provide it,” said one senior official.
“I have a question,”
After everyone had spent some time talking, Song Yue, who had remained silent, finally spoke.
“Ask,” Sun Tong said.
“Is it true that no one else can be transferred here?” Song Yue asked.
Sun Tong and the senior officials exchanged glances and fell silent.
“Is it because the deaths of Boss Zhao and the others have made people afraid of Hangzhou?” Song Yue pressed.
“There’s some truth to that,” Sun Tong paused, then spoke honestly.
Partly due to his friendship with the Scholar, and partly because this young man was too clever to fool.
Ultimately, this was the reason so many qualified people refused to come.
“So this is a pit of fire, isn’t it?” Song Yue said quietly.
Everyone looked embarrassed.
Especially Zhu Jia and the other Hangzhou members, who wished they could hide under the table.
They truly weren’t leaving because they feared death, but as Song Yue said, as deserters, it seemed that way.
And they couldn’t deny it.
Seeing them all silent, Song Yue sighed, “Jia-jie, and all of you, don’t take offense at my harsh words. I don’t mean to target you. In fact, seeking benefit and avoiding harm is human instinct.”
“I’ll accept the position.”
Everyone thought he would ultimately refuse, but unexpectedly, he agreed.
Zhu Jia and the others stared at him in shock.
“That person said none of us present that day would be spared.”
“So, Jia-jie isn’t leaving out of fear, and I believe the others aren’t either.”
“If he won’t let me go, then I’ll stay here and wait for him.”
On Song Yue’s young, handsome face was a look of resolve, “Not for anything else, only because I don’t want Boss Zhao’s efforts to go to waste, nor let those brothers and sisters die in vain.”
“Maybe I don’t have the ability to get justice for them now, but one day I will.”
Song Yue didn’t continue, but everyone felt his determination.
That night.
Song Yue ate dinner at his master’s home.
Mistress cooked seafood and boiled Dragon Pattern Leopard meat.
The house was filled with fragrance.
The Scholar opened a bottle of wine, looking weak and somber, but still reassuring.
“You accepted?” The Scholar sipped and glanced at Song Yue.
“Mm, I did. I know it’s a pit, wanted to refuse, but then thought—if that person said he won’t let me go, it’s probably the same wherever I go.”
“It looks like being forced into the position, but actually, there’s a lot I can do with this authority.”
Song Yue drank, ate a piece of meat with garlic, and said, “Delicious! So it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
The Scholar nodded, “It’s not a bad thing. That’s why I didn’t turn it down for you. Besides, that person won’t appear again for a while.”
Song Yue looked at him.
The Scholar said, “That projection was important to him. Destroyed, he’ll need time to recover.”
Song Yue asked, “Who is he? He doesn’t seem like a demon, but why so cruel? Why so many killings to silence witnesses?”
The Scholar said, “The one outside the city before wasn’t him.”
Song Yue was stunned, “Not him?”
The Scholar nodded, “It was someone else. The white-clad youth was just cleaning up after them.”
Song Yue was speechless.
That youth was so powerful, yet only cleaning up?
He looked at the Scholar, “Master, do you know something?”
The Scholar shook his head, “Even if I have some guesses, there’s no evidence. Just remember, that youth is from the cultivation world. His real age is far greater than his appearance. He is a true cultivator.”
“A true cultivator, one who regards mortals as ants, right?” Song Yue asked quietly.
“Yes,” the Scholar drank deeply.
“What about the Battlefield of Nine Gates? Are people there the same?” Song Yue suddenly asked.
The Scholar was silent a while, eating some meat.
After a long pause, he said, “There are similarities, but not entirely the same. The Nine Gates has many passionate warriors. The cultivation world… not so much.”
“I understand,” Song Yue nodded, eating and drinking, saying no more.
They finished a bottle, and the Scholar opened another.
Finally, the Mistress had enough, forbidding Song Yue from drinking more and telling him to stay and rest.
Song Yue refused, staggered home.
He threw himself onto the bed, feeling the world spin.
He’d drunk too much.
It was a first for him.
Usually, he drank in moderation.
The Scholar never let him overindulge, but tonight, both were in low spirits and wanted to be drunk.
Song Yue groggily took out the Jade Void Monument and entered it.
The Red Bird fluttered out and said, “What a strong smell of alcohol!”
“You, out. I want to be alone here,” Song Yue pointed outside.
The Red Bird instinctively didn’t want to go—it wanted to see the world, but was timid.
“This is my house, you can wander as you please. I have things to do,” Song Yue said, drunkenly.
The Red Bird muttered and flew out.
In the lush, verdant space of the monument, Song Yue was alone.
He followed the method, sending out his spiritual power—
“Anyone here? Come chat?”
After a brief silence, a barrage of spiritual messages appeared within the monument.
“Oh, which friend is bored today?”
“Lonely? Want to talk philosophy with an elder sister?”
“Friend, please introduce yourself!”
“There’s someone here. This monk is feeling empty, come, let’s talk about Buddhism…”
Song Yue tried to sense with his spirit, and instantly all messages flooded his mind.
No wonder people who knew each other could chat so easily here.
If you relied on sight, you’d miss too much.
But sensing spiritually, all information could be received at once.
“Who was the bastard responsible for the downfall of Saint Lu? Get out here!”
Song Yue sent that thought out.
Immediately, all the spiritual messages vanished from the monument space!
--------------
A long chapter—another one tonight.
If you think "The Ninth Gate" is decent, please share the book’s URL [/13_13302/] with your QQ, WeChat, or Weibo friends. Thanks for your support!