Lu Shen, one of Lu Li’s adopted sons—and the sharpest of the lot!

Lu Li had placed him in the Lamplighters, likely grooming him as heir.

But imperial will’s a fickle beast—Lu Li held the Commander-in-Chief post for over twenty years. If Lu Shen took over, the Lamplighters might truly become “House Lu.”

One reason for Lu Li’s fall, right there.

Eagle Eye Division had five halls, and Lu Shen and Baron Yunyang, Cui Hu, each gripped one tight.

Their voices rang out now, striking a chord with the crowd—though some eyes flickered, silent, slipping to corners, shrinking back.

Gods clashing? Not these small fries’ fight!

“Quite the party!”

As the crowd roared, a voice cut through from outside—calm yet piercing, slicing past doors into their ears, faces shifting.

Voice before sight!

Eyes turned, and the door crashed open with a brutal kick.

Xia Qian’s youthful face twisted with menace, long blade carving the way as he stormed in.

Xia Chen followed, Xia Xiao and Li Xi in tow.

Xia Chen wore a smile, fan in hand, strolling easy—like a spring outing. Paired with his peerless looks, he was every inch the refined rogue of a chaotic age.

“Here’s the Eagle Eye Division Head Director badge—from now on, I’m your Head Director!”

Xia Chen grinned, pulling a platinum token from his belt and tossing it into the crowd—light, casual, like some playboy.

It landed square in Li Wei’s hands. He froze, the crowd’s stares pinning him, the badge suddenly scalding.

“Well? Any issues? None? Hand it back then—this is His Majesty’s personal gift!”

Xia Chen chuckled, his unmatched grace and poise dazzling—noble air thick enough to stun.

Lamplighters saw big shots aplenty in the capital, but a young blood with this flair? A first.

Li Wei’s nerves jangled, fumbling to hand the badge back with respect. He’d scoffed at this new Head Director, even bristled—now, face-to-face, younger by years, yet he barely dared breathe.

“Is some blood born lofty—untouchable?”

Xia Chen said nothing, just smiled, warm as a spring breeze—yet Li Wei’s heart quaked, this thought bubbling unbidden.

Not just Li Wei—the room felt it. Air thinned, breaths hitched.

Eagle Eye Division fell still—no more shouts, even the loudest dodging Xia Chen’s gaze.

Xia Chen stayed calm throughout, yet loomed like an unrivaled war god, quelling a thousand foes in a heartbeat.

A silent clash.

East wind crushed west!

“Fine looks, sure—but skin doesn’t fill bellies. We Lamplighters need real grit. Think connections and clout let you run wild here? I’d say scurry back to the Imperial Guard!”

Baron Yunyang, Cui Hu, saw Xia Chen’s single line gut their morale—frowning, he knew he’d lose the tide if he didn’t step up.

“Seventeen-year-old punk—what right do you have?”

Lu Shen rose too, voice low and cold. As he stood, a dozen Lamplighters behind him rose wordlessly—action spoke all.

Tension snapped back into the room!

“Baron Yunyang, if anyone else called me out for riding rank and roots, I’d have no reply—but you two? That’s rich!”

Xia Chen stood at the door, snapping his fan shut, pointing at Cui Hu and Lu Shen, laughing loud and free.

His unrestrained guffaws swelled that crushing presence—one man fit to pierce a million troops.

Lamplighters near him paled.

This new boss was uncanny—not a cultivation pressure, but a soul-deep jolt. Hostility sparked fear, unease gnawing.

As if Xia Chen were the Dao itself—rules incarnate, unyielding, unopposed!

Lu Shen and Cui Hu felt it too, brows knitting—this vibe rankled.

Xia Chen’s eyes gleamed with double pupils, merging and splitting, a strange light pulsing deep within—unseen by all.

He knew this oddity well. Since that night, activating the Nine-Dragon Jade Seal in that shattered heavenly court—whether fused with that vast golden dragon of fate or his double pupils waking—when he focused, a weight bloomed, shaking minds. In that moment, he was the Dao,

one man embodying the tide!

And this aura, he sensed, could dig deeper still.

“No Baron Yunyang here—just Hallmaster Cui!”

Cui Hu trembled under Xia Chen’s stare—his title rankled him. Frowning, he growled, voice heavy.

“What’s so funny? What’s wrong with us? Why can’t we call you out?”

Lu Shen’s face darkened, cold as a lurking viper.

“Not funny? Surely Baron Yunyang hasn’t forgotten his own roots!”

Xia Chen swept the room, lingering on Lu Shen, then locked on Cui Hu.

“I said, drop the Baron Yunyang!”

Cui Hu loathed that name—like a raging lion, his eyes bored into Xia Chen, poised to pounce.

“Your forefathers’ glory, Baron Yunyang. Someone who won’t face his own roots doesn’t deserve to yap at me.”

Xia Chen sneered, pressing on.

“You’re right—I climbed this fast on my lineage, my backing. I started as a seventh-rank commander—a height most can’t touch in a lifetime.

“I know full well it’s my ancestors’ grace that got me here, so I treasure it—I own it bold.

“There’s no shame in that! My seventh-rank start? Countless forebears bled and died on battlefields, serving Dawu, earning this for me!

“I’ve got nothing to hide—I’m damn proud!

“But you? Lapping up your ancestors’ blessings, yet too ashamed to admit it.

“Shouting everywhere that your achievements, your spot, are all your own doing!

“Listen to yourself—don’t you find that laughable?”

Xia Chen pointed at Cui Hu, voice icy. Across, Cui Hu flushed red, eyes blazing, fists clenched—mouth opening, closing, aching to retort, but strength drained away!