Chapter Ninety: No, Senior Brother, This Isn’t Right

The young man was still fresh and full of promise, with ample room to grow, and rumor had it that his aptitude for spiritual power was rather good.

For a young man this outstanding to be seen now was truly rare.

However one looked at him, Zhang Guichuan was very satisfied with him.

“I’ll give it a try,” Li Changqing said with a nod. Then he asked, “But Director Zhang, my salary…”

“Salary?” Zhang Guichuan blinked.

Seeing this, Li Changqing was speechless. That bastard Hu Xiong must not have mentioned it yet.

Hu Xiong was a little embarrassed and said softly from the side, “Li Changqing is, after all, a special talent. He makes quite a bit of money running a private detective agency. If we only offer him a salary of ten thousand lang coins a month, that wouldn’t be very appropriate, so he was hoping for a better compensation package.”

“That makes sense,” Zhang Guichuan agreed as well. Since he was a professional, a higher salary was perfectly reasonable.

“How much are you thinking?”

Hu Xiong held up five fingers.

“Another five thousand?” Zhang Guichuan frowned. Five thousand lang coins was no small sum.

The budget of the Thirty-sixth Bureau had many places to go, but then again, special talent was special talent...

“Fifty thousand lang coins a month,” Hu Xiong said, and he did not even dare look at Zhang Guichuan’s face. He knew exactly how stingy this director could be.

It could not be said to be a perfect split with Tang Xiaoyu, but a seventy-thirty split was still possible.

When Zhang Guichuan’s expression changed upon hearing the figure, it was like a face-changing performance from the opera—white, then black, then green.

Li Changqing also thought to himself that it would be best if Director Zhang thought it was too expensive and refused.

That way, he naturally would not be able to join the Thirty-sixth Bureau, and he would not have to fret over the test half a month from now.

“Hmm.” Zhang Guichuan tapped lightly on the wooden table with his fingers for a long while. At last he said, “Li Changqing, if you can uncover the truth about the Demon Gate within five days, then I’ll agree.”

Li Changqing did not hesitate in the least, and said with a trace of pride on his face, “All right. If I can’t find out within five days, then I’ll have no face left to join the Thirty-sixth Bureau. At that time, I’ll withdraw my application.”

“Hm?”

Zhang Guichuan looked somewhat surprised. He had not expected this young detective to be so confident. This was practically a military pledge: he would crack the case within five days.

As expected of a talent. If he truly had such ability, then paying him fifty thousand lang coins a month would not be a loss.

“All right, it’s settled!” Zhang Guichuan said with a smile. “Have the waiter bring the dishes.”

After eating and drinking their fill, Li Changqing and Tang Xiaoyu left.

“Only five days—how are we supposed to investigate it in time?” Tang Xiaoyu said with worry on her face. “Li Changqing, maybe we should have Kelly help too…”

“Help with what? Go home and sleep. Sleep for five days and five nights!”

“Have you lost your mind? You don’t want fifty thousand a month?” Tang Xiaoyu said in shock. “That’s fifty thousand a month! How many commissions would we have to take to earn that much?”

“Do you want money or your life?”

“Money, of course!”

Li Changqing: “…”

As expected, it was you. This penny-pinching little ghost.

Li Changqing rolled his eyes at her. This girl became unable to move the moment she saw money.

When he returned to the detective agency, Li Changqing flopped onto the bed and fell sound asleep. To hell with investigating!

A car was on its way back to the headquarters of the Thirty-sixth Bureau. Zhang Guichuan sat in the back seat, a satisfied look on his face as he said, “This Li Changqing is not bad. At first, I only shortened the deadline a little to see whether I could stir up his potential.”

“I didn’t expect him to be so confident. The younger generation is formidable indeed; he even has a bit of my old style.”

Hu Xiong, who was driving, gave an awkward smile. Based on his understanding of Li Changqing, the man had already entered dreamland by now. As for investigating the case, that was impossible.

He also did not dare tell the director outright that Li Changqing actually did not want to join the Thirty-sixth Bureau.

“Director, although the Demon Gate is an organization that worships evil gods, their main stronghold is after all in the Lamela Empire. The ones that came to Southlin City are probably just small fry.”

In Hu Xiong’s view, an organization like the Demon Gate truly ought to be wiped out, but it was not to the point of...

Looking out the car window at the passing scenery, Zhang Guichuan said calmly, “I have a feeling something big is about to happen in Southlin City. We need to prepare before the rain falls.”

...

Deep in the night at Heart-Linking Temple, thud, thud, thud.

The sounds of the wooden fish and the chanting of scriptures rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Shen Qingdai did not approach. As long as the monks were reciting sutras and worshiping the Buddha, merely drawing near would make her feel unwell.

After all, she was a monster. For her, lingering in a Buddhist place like this and hearing the scriptures was far from a good thing.

She could not help but think: so the legends that some animal listens to the Dharma every day, awakens spiritual intelligence, and cultivates into a demon... were nothing more than beautiful stories.

In truth, the power of these scriptures had a certain suppressive effect on demonic energy and on monsters.

Shen Qingdai came to the library. The soundproofing here was excellent, and the chanting was difficult to hear.

While staying here, Shen Qingdai was also planning her next move.

Her injuries were serious. If she wanted to recuperate slowly and recover her strength, she would need at least three months.

But her father certainly would not let her off lightly. She knew too many secrets.

Creak.

The wooden door was pushed open, and Jinghui entered with a shaved head. He glanced around cautiously.

“Master Jinghui, the abbot just said you went out to beg for alms. Hm?” Shen Qingdai was about to greet him when Jinghui carefully took from his robe a chicken leg wrapped in oil paper.

He placed the chicken leg before Shen Qingdai and said in a low voice, “You’re still recovering. You need nourishment. Eat more meat.”

“Eat carefully. Don’t let my master catch you.”

Shen Qingdai was stunned. She picked up the chicken leg and sniffed it. The vegetarian food in the temple was indeed rather bland.

“But Master Jinghui, weren’t you out begging for alms? How did you end up with a chicken leg?” Shen Qingdai asked, puzzled.

Jinghui put his palms together, his gaze devout. “I knew your injuries were severe, benefactor Shen, so I forced myself to swallow my pride and ask for a chicken leg…”

“Is that oil on the corner of your mouth?” Shen Qingdai noticed that the little monk still had grease on his lips.

With astonishing speed, Jinghui stuck out his tongue and licked the grease from the corner of his mouth clean.

“Amitabha. Benefactor Shen has mistaken it.”

What kind of monk could lie with his eyes open like that?

Of course, whether he ate meat or not had nothing to do with her.

Shen Qingdai did not hesitate either. With rather ladylike restraint, she took a few bites. It melted in her mouth, with a delightfully crisp texture.

Delicious.

She finished the entire chicken leg in one go, and her mood was exceedingly good.

Yet very soon, she also felt a trace of bitterness—she was actually happy simply because she had managed to eat a chicken leg.

At that moment, the library door was suddenly pushed open, and a little monk came in.

“Benefactor Shen, the abbot asks that you come over for a moment. Hm, this is...”

The little monk was only fifteen or sixteen, and his eyes locked on the chicken bones on the table that Shen Qingdai had finished.

“Senior brother, Master said our Buddhist grounds are a pure place. Things like this cannot be here. I’m going to tell him!”

Jinghui rolled his eyes. This little brat was going to report him again. Shen Qingdai was injured and had not gone out; if the master learned of it, he would quickly guess that the chicken leg had been brought back by him.

Jinghui picked up the bones and shoved them into the little monk’s hands. “Take them.”

The little monk pretended to refuse. “No, senior brother, that wouldn’t be proper.”

Jinghui said righteously, “Master only said meat cannot be eaten. He never said bones cannot be eaten!”