Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Eighty-Five: The Wager

He had barely entered that willow-lined lane on horseback when he ran straight into Ye Lin, who was charging out of it in a hurry.

“Hey, where are you off to, Brother Ye?”

“Mind your own business!” Ye Lin yanked the reins and thundered away, leaving only those two words echoing in Chen Chang’an’s ears.

“Ha. Looks like he still hasn’t shaken off the trauma of that public humiliation.”

After a low mutter, Chen Chang’an patted his horse and moved deeper into the lane. By the time he reached the edge of the martial training grounds, he saw crowds everywhere and guessed they were all there to exchange for new assignments.

He had only taken a few steps inside when Song Jiu’s voice suddenly rang out beside him.

“Well, if it isn’t Chen Chang’an. Your first assignment took you three whole days? Did you know that by the afternoon I had already finished investigating the ghost bride case in Zhangjia Slope by sunset that same day?”

Chen Chang’an’s mouth twitched.

In truth, the mystery of the serial murders in Stone Bridge Town had also been solved that very day. It was only that on the way back he had been delayed by two fools from the demon race who were busy tearing down a bridge, and along the route he had even been dragged into one strange trouble after another, large and small.

The trouble had even followed him all the way into the capital.

Ignoring Song Jiu, Chen Chang’an leaped from his horse and strolled toward the newly posted Starlight Ledger.

His indifference only stirred Song Jiu’s temper further. “Chen Chang’an, besides the ghost bride case in Zhangjia Slope, I also completed four other assignments. My total star value is now five hundred thirty-two. This time, there’s no way you can beat me.”

Chen Chang’an still did not bother to argue. He merely studied the ledger carefully.

It was not only today’s postings, but also the notices from previous days. As long as an announced assignment remained unfinished, it would stay on the wall until the trial ended.

Then his eyes began to gleam.

On yesterday’s ledger, Assignment Fifteen read: in the village of Three-Star Village under the jurisdiction of the capital, there is a herbal hall that, according to reliable reports, is a black establishment. It has harmed countless people and poisoned the local populace for years. Go and punish them. Danger level: low. Completion reward: 50 star value.

“Damn it!”

Chen Chang’an could not help but feel his scalp prickle.

Wasn’t that the herbal hall he had dealt with on the way back to the capital, when he had gone there for detoxification and casually wiped them out?

Then, below that, another assignment stated: Assignment Twenty-One. Deep in the woods not far from the capital roams a colossal white ape that often injures people. Go and kill it. Danger level: medium. Completion reward: 110 star value.

With a thud, Chen Chang’an’s legs nearly gave way beneath him.

Why had he gone after the white ape? Wasn’t it because, on the road back to the capital, he had inadvertently become entangled with it, and while killing it, had been careless and poisoned? So that too had been a trial assignment all along.

By this point he could no longer restrain himself. His eyes jerked toward the ledger notice from the day before, and after a quick glance he discovered something even more absurd:

Assignment Thirteen: in Toad Hill, dozens of girls and children have been raped and abused. Find the culprit. Danger level: medium. Completion reward: 79 star value.

Assignment Eighteen: there is a bandit group in Wild Wolf Mountain. Go and wipe them out. Danger level: medium. Completion reward: 111 star value.

Assignment Thirty-Three: if you can casually establish some merit that has bearing on the safety of the capital and the court, this counts as high difficulty and awards 300 star value.

After reading this, Chen Chang’an nearly twitched on the spot.

Everything that had happened to him on the road back to the capital had overlapped so closely with the assignments recently issued by the Night-Clad Guard that it was downright ludicrous. With luck like this, if he had bought lottery tickets in his previous life, he would have become rich beyond measure.

From the bandits on Wild Wolf Mountain all the way to the final killing of Jia Youcai, everything had fallen squarely on the very assignment points they had issued.

And the circular iron tags representing the assignment numbers were not all still in exactly the same place as when they had first been posted, so they had clearly been taken down before.

That meant they had removed the tags to carry out the tasks, only to arrive and find someone else had gotten there first. In a fit of exasperation, they had put them back.

This... this is simply...

His expression became wonderfully complicated at that moment: excitement, agitation, shock, and even a trace of something strangely gleeful.

Standing on tiptoe and straightening his back, Chen Chang’an removed every single iron tag from the Starlight Ledger that represented those assignment numbers.

Beside him, Song Jiu watched with a mocking look in his eyes, his tone full of amusement. “Heh. Chen Chang’an, my star value is five hundred thirty-two right now. No matter what you do, there’s no way you can surpass me. What good is taking on so many assignments all at once anyway?”

“Uh...”

Chen Chang’an turned back, the iron tags in his hand clinking together as he said, “Who said they’re useless? Besides, I’m not going to do the assignments. I’m here to collect the star value.”

“You... what did you say?”

Song Jiu’s features tightened at first in blatant alarm, then he burst into laughter so hard that his teeth showed. “Hahaha, hahahaha. Chen Chang’an, you must not be fully awake, or else you think the Night-Clad Guard was built by your family.”

“The iron tags are merely symbols of assignment numbers. They do not signify the completion of the tasks themselves. If everyone could simply pry them off the Starlight Ledger and have star value added, I would already be over a thousand.”

“Oh!”

Chen Chang’an gave a perfunctory reply and, carrying several iron tags, walked toward the Night-Clad Guard staff responsible for recording star value. Song Jiu followed behind, grinning in irritation.

When they reached the tent, Chen Chang’an, like a scholar casually ordering wine, laid out the iron tags in a neat row.

“Lord Liu, these are all assignments I have completed. Please begin calculating and recording the star value!”

“Very well!”

The man in charge was named Liu Zhuan. Since he handled paperwork within the Night-Clad Guard, his skin was noticeably fairer than others’. He had a round face, thin brows, and slightly upturned eyes. Hearing Chen Chang’an’s words, he immediately picked up the brush resting by the inkstone and was about to begin.

At once, Song Jiu rushed forward and pressed both hands down to stop him.

“Lord Liu, you absolutely cannot record star value for him! Those were just pried off the Starlight Ledger moments ago. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Liu Zhuan first looked at Chen Chang’an, then drew his gaze back to Song Jiu.

“This is only for recording. There will be a dedicated team verifying everything later. If fraud is discovered, the result will be canceled outright. So... there’s no need to be overly concerned.”

“No, Lord Liu!”

Song Jiu’s face was stubborn with insistence. “What he’s doing is a complete insult to the Night-Clad Guard. If we don’t take some measures to punish this, others will definitely follow his example!”

“This...”

Liu Zhuan began to hesitate and placed the brush back on the inkstone.

Indeed, if a precedent were set, the bad would be quick to follow the bad, and everyone would start taking shortcuts for gain. Then what would the fairness, justice, openness, and public trust of the Night-Clad Guard’s evaluation system amount to?

Thus, he spoke in a tone that carried the weight of judgment. “Chen Chang’an, can you confirm that all the assignments corresponding to the iron tags in your hand have indeed been completed?”

“Of course. Do I look like some lying bastard?” Chen Chang’an replied, his words carrying an edge.

Song Jiu looked outraged. “What do you mean by that?”

Chen Chang’an tilted his face at a forty-five-degree angle and whistled lazily. “Whatever you think it means.”

Not giving him another chance to argue, Chen Chang’an cupped his hands toward Liu Zhuan and said in a ringing voice, “Lord Liu, if you do not believe me, then send the Night-Clad brothers to investigate right now and see whether these assignments were completed by me.”

“If not, I will forfeit forever any qualification I may have to enter the Night-Clad Guard.”

“If they were...”

He paused and pointed at Song Jiu, his voice sharp as iron.

“Then he must kneel before all the newcomers of the Night-Clad Guard and apologize to me!”

“You... what did you say?”

Song Jiu rubbed his ears in disbelief.

It was not because of the wager itself, but because of the certainty and composure in Chen Chang’an’s manner. He looked perfectly serious.

Yet Chen Chang’an had personally seen everything: from the moment he returned to the Night-Clad Guard’s training grounds to the moment he pried the iron tags off the Starlight Ledger, he had not even had time to go do those assignments. How could he possibly have seen wrongly?

“Hmph! Young Master Chen, very well. Since that is what you said, if it is found that the assignments above have not been completed, you will leave the Night-Clad Guard forever and never be allowed to join again.”

Ever since his first assessment at Green Radiance Mountain had been ruined by Chen Chang’an, Song Jiu had harbored a grudge and long sought a chance for revenge.

Then, during the second time in Willow-Clad Lane, Chen Chang’an had also caused him to lose the top ranking. His heart had long been packed with anger and resentment. Now that he finally had a chance to strike back, how could he possibly refrain?

Chen Chang’an’s lips curved slightly. “That’s right, I said it. But you should remember this too: if these assignments were indeed completed by me, then you will kneel and apologize.”

“Fine!” Song Jiu ground out.

In some place within the nine provinces of the Great Min, there was an area perpetually shrouded beneath heavy, leaden gloom, as though sunlight had never once been able to enter. Dark branches twisted and tangled across the land, gnarled and massive; the smallest of them required ten people joining arms to embrace, while some had grown so wildly and without restraint that they surged and packed together, their limbs embedded within one another.

Within the forest, the chatter was constant and broken into fine fragments. Bats, crows, moths, hamsters, and other animals moved in swarming clusters, rushing back and forth.

When the two towering trees at the edge of the forest drew together their lush black canopies reaching into the sea of clouds, A Man and Ying Si appeared out of nowhere, together with Hua Zixin, who looked like a walking corpse without the slightest sign of life.

Ying Si looked around and finally let out a breath before glancing sideways at A Man. “You take her to the dark chamber first. I need to report to the Blood Ancestor about Chen Chang’an.”

“Why should you go?” A Man asked stubbornly, lifting his chin. “I’m going too. If we’re going to seize the Waterlight Sword in the future, we’ll still have to face him. We need to know how to deal with him.”