A thin film of condensation clung to the mirror's surface. My breath fogged the glass in pale wisps, and within that clouded reflection two faces overlapped — the original, worn by middle-age fatigue and the grinding marks of years in cultivation, now twisting and reshaping before my eyes at a visible pace. Spiritual energy traced the pathways of my face: the brow ridge lifted, the jawline drew back, the fine lines at the corners of my eyes were pressed smooth by some invisible force, replaced by Arthur Wen's signature hooded gaze and the permanent downward set of his mouth.

"System — how is the Blood Jade thumb ring's malevolent aura simulation holding up?" I picked up the replica from the table, painstakingly recreated from Old Zhang's classified files. The ring was ice-cold to the touch, and the thread of fetid, scale-reeking residual energy deliberately infused within it was locked in fierce collision with the tidal spiritual energy surging through my meridians.

Ding! Malevolent aura simulation at 92%. Sustainable for two hours. The System elder's voice carried a note of caution. Remember — Arthur Wen is at early Core Formation. Your disguised early Foundation Establishment peak cannot hold up for long. One sweep of a high-ranking cultivator's spiritual sense, and you will be exposed.

I drew a slow breath and slid the ring onto the fourth finger of my right hand. In an instant, a chill, sinister energy shot from my fingertip into my meridians, forcing me to circulate the Tide Saint Body Art at full exertion just to keep it suppressed. The "Arthur Wen" in the mirror curved his lips into a twisted arc — the expression I had carefully studied from the footage of him bidding on the Soul-Eroding Bone Flute: greedy, cold-blooded, edged with an arrogance that brooked no challenge.

"Let's go," I murmured to the figure in the glass. My voice had fully settled into Arthur Wen's low, gravelled rasp. "The doors of the Xuanmen Bureau — it is time for the 'Deputy Director' to knock on them himself."

---

The Xuanmen Bureau's headquarters stood among a cluster of traditional-style buildings flanking the central axis of Yanjing City. Vermilion palace walls rose in towering columns; roof-ridge beasts crouched half-visible through the smog. Unlike the gilded extravagance of Baizhen Pavilion, this place breathed a solemn, crushing gravity. The stone lions before the gate were no ordinary carvings — their eyes held liquid spiritual energy that flowed and pooled, each slow blink accompanied by a faint tremor in the surrounding aura.

"State your name." Two guards in black lacquered armour stepped forward half a pace. The tokens at their waists bore the tiger-claw emblem of White Tiger Hall, and their eyes were sharp as hawks.

My stomach tightened. I kept my face in Arthur Wen's customary mask of cold indifference, letting my left hand drift absently over the Blood Jade ring as a thread of malevolent energy seeped outward with each breath — a calculated provocation. Arthur Wen's ties to White Tiger Hall were common knowledge among the Bureau; the sinister aura was, perversely, the finest credentials I could present.

"Insolence." I spoke, my voice scraping like sandpaper dragged across stone. "You no longer recognise your own Deputy Director?"

The guards' expressions shifted. Clearly, they had not expected to encounter "Arthur Wen" here. One quickly bowed his head: "This subordinate has poor eyes and did not recognise Deputy Director Wen. It so happens that Deputy Hall Master Li of Azure Dragon Hall is on duty rotation today — shall we announce your arrival?"

Everett Li? What is he doing here? A storm broke loose beneath my ribs. I let nothing touch my face. "No need. I am here to retrieve an old file. I won't be long." As I spoke, I deliberately released a thread of Core Formation pressure — simulated, of course, through the Tide Saint Body Art, nothing but an elaborate bluff. Core Formation pressure bore down like a mountain; this parlour trick of mine could only rattle cultivators below that stage.

The guards were duly rattled. They asked nothing further, and quickly stepped aside. The moment I crossed the threshold, a system prompt detonated in my mind:

Ding! Detected at approximately eight hundred metres ahead: anomalous spiritual energy fluctuation. Energy signature matches the described characteristics of the "Xuanhu Cave Heaven." Suspected entrance to a seclusion zone!

---

The Bureau's interior was a labyrinth. Flagstone paths of pale green stretched between rows of antique side-rooms, each door frame carved with different talismanic scripts — clearly the operational offices of the various Halls. The air was thick with the mingled presence of multiple spiritual energies: the wood-attributed aura of Azure Dragon Hall, the metal-attributed killing energy of White Tiger Hall, the fire-attributed force of Vermilion Bird Hall, and the elusive, water-attributed power of Black Tortoise Hall, all woven together into an invisible net.

"Deputy Director Wen?" A voice came from behind me, slightly startled.

Every muscle in my body went taut. I turned slowly.

The man was a law-enforcement elder of White Tiger Hall — I had seen him once, at Lance Liu's office building. Broad-faced, heavy-jowled, his cultivation sitting at late Foundation Establishment. He held a dossier in both hands, and his eyes carried a flicker of uncertainty. "Were you not recuperating at the Western Hills villa? What brings you back so suddenly?"

Damn. Arthur Wen had a cover story about recovering from injuries? My mind raced at full speed. I arranged my features into an expression of bored irritation, and the Blood Jade ring caught the light and threw off a red gleam. "Prying. My wounds improved — I came to have a look. What is that you're carrying?"

I redirected the conversation and, in the same breath, quietly stirred my spiritual energy, driving the malevolent aura to its fullest potency. The elder was duly pressed back by my bearing; almost involuntarily, he proffered the dossier. "It — it is Baizhen Pavilion's latest supply manifest, just to be reviewed by Deputy Hall Master Li."

Baizhen Pavilion's supply manifest. Something shifted in my thoughts, though I let only a cold snort show. "Everett Li? What business does someone from Azure Dragon Hall have meddling in White Tiger Hall's affairs?"

End of Chapter 60: The Deputy Director Pays a Visit