Eagle Eye Division sank into silence again!

No clash of fists as the crowd had braced for—just a war of words!

The new Head Director stood like a Great Confucian, tongue-lashing the pack, leaving all speechless—especially the ringleaders, Cui Hu and Lu Shen.

“This new Head Director’s got a razor tongue!”

The thought echoed in every mind.

Lu Shen—future dark king of legend—wiped his face clean of feeling, unreadable.

He fixed Xia Chen with a flat, emotionless stare, voice slow.

“I’ve looked you up. Young as you are, your moves are seasoned—like a cunning hunter, striking only after the plan’s set. From your first day as seventh-rank commander to nabbing Inspection and Supervision Court spies, it’s all the same.

“Since leaving the estate, you’ve shown your hand twice in public—both times flashing real martial grit. Folk call you a waste, but I see the deep cover.

“Strike you? I’d not just fail to kill you—I’d hand you the charge myself!”

Lu Shen’s words rang in their ears, startling some Lamplighters. They’d thought he held back from fear of the crime.

Turns out, he lacked the guts to bet on one clean cut.

This capital’s famed flop—really that sharp?

Lu Shen, their teenage prodigy, could tangle with Sixth-Rank warriors!

“Ha! Studied me and still itching to take a swing? Not a bright move!”

Xia Chen laughed, pressing on.

Lu Shen stayed mum, thoughts a mystery.

“Well then, let’s hear it—how’s this mess end? A hundred of you Eagle Eye elites circled here—outsiders might think you’re plotting a mutiny to mob me!”

Xia Chen’s casual jab shifted faces—this “mutiny” cap could crush anyone.

“Head Director’s joking! We’re gathered to welcome you on your first day!”

A fortyish man, all smiles, squeezed through, scurrying to Xia Chen with a bow.

Xia Qian’s lip twitched—this old fox’s skin was thick. Had he not heard their earlier uproar plotting against his Young Master, he might’ve bought it.

Other Lamplighters’ eyes glinted—Old Zheng, Hallmaster Zheng, hadn’t held his post twenty years for nothing.

Smooth talker!

“Oh, all here to greet me? I’m deeply honored!”

Xia Chen glanced at the goateed, fawning man—Zheng Ping’s file flashed in his mind.

Zheng Ping, one of Eagle Eye’s five hallmasters, twenty years steady in his seat—a blessing and a curse.

A veteran among Lamplighters, he’d shone young, a peer to ex-Commander-in-Chief Lu Li.

Rumor had it they’d clashed early—from petty flagbearers to hundred and thousand household officers, then hallmasters, always vying in the shadows. Lu Li soared, shaking Dawu; Zheng Ping sat still twenty years.

Some said he’d crossed Lu Li, stuck while juniors climbed over him.

Others claimed it a gentleman’s rivalry—his rock-solid tenure proof…

Xia Chen recalled the dossier, then refocused.

“You’re all my welcome party, fine—but these two? I clearly heard them rally trouble!”

Xia Chen scanned the room, landing on Cui Hu and Lu Shen.

“A misunderstanding! You two, what’re you waiting for? Greet the Head Director!”

Zheng Ping shot Cui Hu a look, then kicked Lu Shen’s rear.

Cui Hu’s eyes flickered—game over. But Lu Shen spoke first.

“Greetings, Head Director!”

Cui Hu jolted, late, scrambling to follow.

“Greetings, Head Director!”

Both bowed respectfully!

Xia Qian grinned—his master had dug in firm among the Lamplighters.

“Young Master’s a marvel—just a tongue to tame them all, sharper than fists!”

Xia Qian beamed inside, adoration swelling.

“Since you all accept me as Head Director, we’re set. I’m soft-hearted and easygoing—but I stick to rules!”

“Some things don’t slide so easy. Today, I’ll let the rest off—but you two, defying rank, stirring underlings to mutiny? That’s no light pass!”

Xia Chen’s tone stayed even, yet it crashed like thunder, imperial might descending!

“Head Director, it’s a mix-up! Your first day—I’ve got food and wine ready. How about we move there, drink till dawn?”

Zheng Ping’s face shifted, stepping forward quick.

“No need for more talk! Wrong’s wrong—punishment follows. Got it?”

Xia Chen flicked a glance at Zheng Ping—struck dumb, like lightning hit.

What eyes! Cold as the void, the Dao itself—order sprawling, deep and dark, cradling all. Zheng Ping couldn’t name it.

He froze—first time feeling such dread off a man!

Xia Chen’s gaze chilled, hands pointing at Cui Hu, Lu Shen, and their dozen backers, voice calm yet iron-firm.

“You lot—fifty lashes each, then split across other halls. Starting today, hundred and thousand household officers rotate. Any objections?”

Words fell—faces paled. Cui Hu and Lu Shen especially—fifty lashes? Tough guys could grit through.

But rotation? That gutted their power base, years of clout smashed overnight.

“Head Director, isn’t rotation hasty? It’ll stir trouble!”

Even Zheng Ping piped up again.

“Hallmaster Zheng, I said I’ve got a kind heart—a soft spot for life. Don’t you get it? I’m saving you! You’re sharp—guess why His Majesty dropped me here?

“You cliques, cozying up—whose name’s on the Lamplighters, yours or His Majesty’s? Lu Li’s fall—really just my defense map bust?

“Hallmaster Zheng, you’re not that dense!”

Xia Chen patted Zheng Ping’s shoulder, a smile curling.

“I’m sparing you out of kindness—you should thank me, not miss my good intent. What a letdown!

“Don’t want rotation? Fine—I’ll take it back, no force here. Your call, your way—I won’t mind!

“But what happens next? No promises—I’m a man of kindness, you see, hoping I won’t have to swing the blade myself when that day comes.

“If it does, recalling this warm welcome from you all today—I’d go easy, wouldn’t I?”

Xia Chen grinned—Zheng Ping’s cold sweat poured, body quaking, face ashen.