The next morning, as dawn broke and the air was still chilly, Ah Chen had just finished his morning exercise, his body still enveloped in lingering white mist.
He was about to return to his room when he was stopped at the entrance of the post station by Hong Zhu, Feng Qinghe’s personal guard.
Hongzhu was still dressed in a neat and smart outfit, expressionless, holding a thick manual in both hands.
The manual’s cover was a plain, bluish-gray hardcover, without any patterns or inscriptions, appearing simple and even somewhat rudimentary.
“Brother Ah Chen,” Hongzhu’s voice was calm and even.
“Commander Feng instructed that this book be given to you.
He said, ‘Take a look at it in your spare time, and you may gain something from it.'” After saying that, she handed over the book and, without waiting for Ah Chen’s reply, turned and left decisively.
Ah Chen frowned and looked down at the unremarkable booklet in his hand.
It was quite heavy, and the paper was rough.
He opened the cover and saw a line of neat but not very elegant ink writing on the title page: “Urban Residents’ Household Registration Operation Manual.” The name was awkward and strange and had nothing to do with any martial arts manuals or military strategy books he knew.
With skepticism and instinctive impatience, he casually flipped through the pages.
At first, when his eyes swept over unfamiliar terms like “administrative divisions,” “community grids,” and “street offices,” he only showed disdain.
These seemed like tedious regulations, none of which concerned him.
But as he delved deeper into the pages, his reading speed unconsciously slowed down.
The disdain on his face was gradually replaced by seriousness, and his furrowed brows became more and more tightly knit.
In the end, he even had to stop and lean against the courtyard wall to study the text word by word.
This manual is by no means a simple compilation of regulations!
It uses an extremely calm, even ruthless, style to elaborate in detail on a system for managing and governing the entire population of a city or even a territory!
How can the government, under the guise of “improving quality of life” and “developing the economy,” organize residents into “grids” by area, setting up layers of management agencies such as street offices and neighborhood committees, extending its reach to every street and courtyard?
How can it subtly shape shared values and cultivate a sense of collective belonging through organizing “cultural and recreational activities,” “mutual aid groups,” and “model selections”—which Ah Chen interprets as a means of control?
How can it link the consciousness of “protecting the homeland” with the behavior of “reporting suspicious activities,” offering material rewards and honors to turn the “city’s residents” into an omnipresent, spontaneous surveillance network?
It even analyzes in detail human weaknesses—the desire for security, the pursuit of profit, and the need for belonging—and provides methods for exploiting these weaknesses to make the public “voluntarily” become informants… The manual clearly states that the most effective surveillance is not coercion but rather actively engaging the monitored and allowing them to gain a sense of security and value.
When everyone can be an informant and potentially monitored by others, an invisible yet powerful order of self-discipline and mutual oversight naturally forms.
Successful cases of preventing, identifying, and apprehending spies will be widely publicized, further reinforcing the “correctness” and “necessity” of this system.
This far exceeds Ah Chen’s understanding of “spies” or “shadows”!
It is a vast and sophisticated social manipulation technique that breaks down the power of rule into every breath, integrates it into the daily necessities of life, and ultimately makes the ruled willingly maintain the rule!
It does not pursue intelligence in a particular time or place, but rather absolute control over the entire social foundation!
Ah Chen’s fingers gripped the book, his breath coming in shallow gasps, revealing the turmoil within him.
He had always believed that power originated from within, from speed, explosiveness, and deadly precision.
He was accustomed to operating alone in the shadows, deciding life and death through sheer individual strength.
But this manual revealed to him a completely different, far more expansive, and suffocating form of “power”—a systematic, pervasive power based on organization, institutions, and insights into human nature, a power almost impossible to counter with individual force!
His mind flashed back to Feng Qinghe’s words at Wangbei Pavilion yesterday—”The whole city is a soldier,” “Everyone is a spy.” It turned out that those weren’t empty words but the inevitable result of this terrifying system!
A chill, more biting than the morning north wind, crept up his spine.
For the first time, he clearly realized that Feng Qinghe’s terrifying power lay not only in her personal martial arts and strategies but also in the well-established and highly efficient system behind her.
“Finished watching?” A voice with a slightly lazy laugh suddenly rang out from ahead.
Ah Chen suddenly looked up and saw that Feng Qinghe was already standing under the old tree in the courtyard, leaning against the trunk with her arms crossed, watching him leisurely.
Today she was not wearing her armor but only a simple dark-colored riding and archery outfit, which made her figure appear even more upright, her eyes bright, and she had a discerning taste.
“How is it?” Feng Qinghe strolled closer, her gaze falling on the manual in his hand, her tone as casual as if discussing whether breakfast was to her liking.
“Isn’t it much more interesting than fighting and killing…?” Ah Chen clutched the heavy handbook tightly, his gaze meeting Feng Qinghe’s.
After a long while, he finally managed to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth: “The Demon Book.” These two words, rather than being a critique, are more like…
an almost instinctive definition after being greatly impacted.
Upon hearing this, Feng Qinghe was not angry at all; instead, she burst into laughter, her laughter hearty and unrestrained.
“A demonic book?
What a compliment!
To receive a ‘demonic book’ from you, Brother Ah Chen, it seems my efforts haven’t been in vain.” She laughed, her eyes deepening.
“But this ‘demonic book’ can allow you to command thousands without firing a single shot and make your city as solid as a rock.
Individual bravery, in its presence, is sometimes…
nothing more than a mantis trying to stop a chariot.” She reached out and lightly tapped the cover of the handbook with her fingertips, her tone enticing, as if she were imparting knowledge: “So, Brother Ah Chen?
Interested in…
learning this ‘demon magic’?
To see how this mortal realm really works?” Ah Chen stared intently at her, offering no answer.
But the wall of ice that had been built in his heart had been breached by this seemingly simple handbook, creating a deep crack.
An unprecedented mix of resistance, wariness, and the shock and bewilderment of being forcibly opened to a new world surged within him.
Feng Qinghe knew the seed had been planted.
She said no more, turned, and left, leaving behind a message carried on the wind: “The book is for you and Mr.
Gu.
Take your time reading it.
Once you understand it, perhaps…
we can truly have a talk.” The footsteps faded into the distance, disappearing at the end of the eaves.
Ah Chen remained standing there, the “Urban Residents’ Household Registration Operation Manual” in his hand growing heavier.
Feng Qinghe hadn’t gone far.
She stopped at the corner of the corridor, turned around, and looked back, just in time to see Achen’s stiff back disappearing into the morning light.
The usual, enigmatic smile on her lips gradually settled, turning into a subtle, almost incomprehensible expression.
That book—the one she painstakingly translated, dissected, and reconstructed from memory the vast and intricate social management system of another world, barely fitting it into the framework of this one—was her most treasured possession, the deepest and loneliest connection between her and that distant past.
There were no internal energy cultivation methods, no unparalleled martial arts techniques, only efficient sets of rules and processes that wove everyone into a massive network.
Household registration, village head systems, joint guarantee systems, layered information reporting and verification… Behind the seemingly tedious and dry text lay a vision that transformed society itself into an extension of perception.
She tore a corner of this “legacy” from another world and handed it to one of the most outstanding martial artists of this era.
Wasn’t this an adventure in itself?
A trial to introduce the seeds of another world into this one.
A gentle breeze ruffled the stray hairs on her forehead.
Feng Qinghe stopped looking at Achen and instead raised her head, gazing at the azure sky to the north.
Her gaze seemed to pierce through the clouds, landing on a world that existed only in her memories and dreams—a world filled with steel, lightning, and an invisible torrent of information.
There, the myth of individual martial prowess did not exist, but rather a different kind of world-changing, awe-inspiring yet alienating collective power.
She exhaled softly, and the white mist quickly dissipated in the cold air.
“The road ahead is still long…” The whisper dissipated in the wind.
She concealed the fleeting longing and loneliness in her eyes, her expression once again covered by the cold resolve of a border commander.
When Ah Chen returned to the guest room with the heavy “Urban Residents’ Household Registration Operation Manual,” Gu Anqi was sitting by the window, flipping through a frontier herbal medicine atlas.
When he saw Achen come in, his expression changed, and he was holding an unfamiliar thick book.
Gu Anqi put down the book and looked at him questioningly.
Ah Chen didn’t speak but walked straight to the table and slammed the manual down in front of Gu Anqi.
The action wasn’t exactly polite, carrying a kind of irritation he himself hadn’t realized—the frustration of being forcibly forced into an unfamiliar territory.
Gu Anqi paused slightly, his gaze falling on the simple, even somewhat rudimentary, cover.
“The ‘Urban Residents’ Household Registration Operation Manual’?” He read the words on the title page softly, his brow furrowing slightly, clearly finding the name unfamiliar and strange.
He looked up at Achen, his eyes asking what it meant.
Ah Chen stood to the side with his arms crossed, his face still cold and hard, only managing to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth: “She gave it to me.
She said…
to pass the time.” A look of surprise flashed across Gu Anqi’s eyes.
Feng Qinghe would give him a book?
And such a booklet that seemed to have nothing to do with martial arts or strategy?
He became wary but more curious than anything else.
He said “thank you” and reached out to take the booklet.
At first, he flipped through the pages quickly, just like Ah Chen had done at the beginning, skimming over the entries on administrative divisions and community management, assuming they were just ordinary governance provisions.
But soon, he slowed down, his fingertips lingering on a page about the chapter on “Incentive Mechanisms for Neighborhood Mutual Assistance and Information Sharing.” The gentle composure on his face gradually vanished, replaced by an increasingly profound shock and solemnity.
He stopped skimming and began reading word by word, pausing occasionally, his fingers unconsciously tracing lines under certain passages, his eyes gleaming with disbelief.
“This…this is not a civil affairs handbook…” Gu Anqi muttered to himself, his voice trembling.
“This is clearly…this is…” He couldn’t find the right words to describe it.
He saw the control logic behind the meticulous division of the population, the guidance of public sentiment under the slogan of “improving the quality of life,” how surveillance can be transformed into a collective unconscious “voluntary” behavior, and the calm, almost cruel wisdom that weaves the entire society into an invisible net.
This is completely different from any power tactics or imperial strategies he knew!
It is a more fundamental and terrifying art of governance!
It does not rely on the wisdom of a few elites but is dedicated to building a vast system that can operate on its own, supervise itself, and reinforce itself.
Gu Anqi suddenly raised his head and looked at Achen, his eyes filled with unprecedented horror: “Achen!
How much of this book…
have you read?” Ah Chen snorted coldly, which was taken as an admission that he had already seen it.
Gu Anqi took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil in his heart, but his voice was still urgent: “I finally understand…
I understand why she can control the Thirteen Alliances so easily and why she dares to say ‘the whole city is an army’!
“So this is the root of the problem!
This is no longer a simple power struggle; this is…
a means to reshape the world!” He pointed to a section in the manual about “cultural propaganda and the shaping of shared values” and said in a somber tone, “Look here, it seems to teach people to be kind and harmonious with their neighbors, but in reality it’s about unifying thoughts and eliminating dissent.
And here, it uses incentives and fame to lure people in, making everyone rush to act as informants…
It’s all interconnected, step by step…
It’s terrifying!
Truly terrifying!” Seeing Gu Anqi’s rare loss of composure, Achen’s eyes flashed with inexplicable complexity.
Even someone as remarkable as Gu Anqi was so shocked, which showed the weight of this “demon book.” Gu Anqi closed the book and remained silent for a long time before slowly saying, “Commander Feng gave this book to us, and the meaning behind it is profound…
She is telling us that the source of her power is not just martial arts or the army, but this…
this method of ‘operation.’ She is demonstrating and also…
showing a possibility.” A “possibility” of controlling a much larger force, perhaps even surpassing individual combat power and existing power struggles.
Ah Chen’s face remained tense, and he didn’t reply.
But Gu Anqi knew that the impact of this manual on Ah Chen, who believed in absolute force, was probably far more intense and upheaval than it had been on him.
Just then, Feng Qinghe’s voice, who was following Ah Chen, came from outside the guest room door.
Her voice arrived before she did: “Gentlemen, do you find the book interesting?
If you’re bored, I have some ‘tips’ here on how to use rumors to guide public opinion and how to identify fakes.
They might be more interesting than this book.
Feel free to discuss them with me anytime.” As soon as she finished speaking, Feng Qinghe pushed open the door and entered, still with that lazy and casual demeanor, as if she were just dropping by.
Her gaze swept over the handbook on the table that Gu Anqi had closed, and then she looked at the two people with different expressions: “So?
How about it?
This little gadget of mine to ‘pass the time’ should keep you two pondering for a while, right?” “Of course, if you’re still not satisfied, don’t worry, I have other things that will definitely make you both fall head over heels for me,” Feng Qinghe said.
“Who can blame me for liking you two so much?” Feng Qinghe spoke lightly, her tone even carrying a hint of lingering laughter, as if it were truly the intimate banter between lovers.
But when paired with her unfathomable eyes, which were now scrutinizing Gu Anqi and Ah Chen with great interest, an eerie feeling inexplicably arose.
“If you’re still not satisfied, don’t worry, I have other things that will definitely make you both fall head over heels for me.” “It’s because I like you two so much.” The words “devoted to” were uttered in a sweet tone, yet they felt like poisoned silver threads, clinging to her.
“Like” became a chilling declaration of possession.
The three remained silent, the light and shadow casting a clear yet silent boundary between them, revealing every subtle expression and every restrained breath.
Gu Anqi’s usual gentle smile froze for a moment, though he quickly recovered, but a chilling coldness settled in his eyes.
He lowered his gaze slightly, avoiding Feng Qinghe’s overly direct and complex stare, his fingertips unconsciously fiddling with his cuff, as if the rough fabric held the answer to the predicament.
Feng Qinghe’s “liking” came at a price too high, a price that might cost him all his freedom and principles.
Ah Chen’s reaction was even more direct.
His aura suddenly turned cold, as if he had instantly transformed from a living person into an ice sculpture.
He abruptly raised his eyes, his gaze like two solid ice spikes, piercing directly into Feng Qinghe’s smiling eyes.
Inside, there surged an offensive rage and a ferocity akin to a wild beast whose territory had been invaded.
He let out a very low but extremely threatening groan from deep in his throat, and the veins on the back of his hand gripping the hilt of the knife bulged.
“Like?” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse, filled with undisguised sarcasm and resistance.
“Your liking is something I can’t bear.” Feng Qinghe took in their reactions, but instead of being annoyed, she seemed to have witnessed something extremely amusing, her interest growing even stronger.
She even took a step closer, almost touching the cold air emanating from A-Chen, and whispered with a smile, like a devil’s seduction: “It’s okay if we can’t afford it now.
There’s plenty of time.
We can take it slow.
I have plenty of patience, and I also have… ‘things.’ There’s bound to be one that suits your tastes.” After she finished speaking, she no longer looked at the two men whose faces were grim and turned and gracefully left.
As she reached the door, she seemed to remember something, turned back, and added, her tone as relaxed as if she were arranging tomorrow’s hunting trip: “By the way, we’re patrolling the nine cities tomorrow.
The roads are difficult to travel, so please remember to wear a pair of comfortable boots.” The door was gently closed, and the guest room returned to silence, leaving only the “Urban Residents’ Household Registration Operation Manual” lying quietly on the table and the lingering aura of Feng Qinghe, imbued with a strong desire for control.
Gu Anqi slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, rubbed his temples, and said with a wry smile, “This General Feng’s ‘liking’ is truly…
full of hidden dangers.” Ah Chen continued to stare intently at the doorway, his chest heaving slightly.
After a long while, he finally managed to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth: “madman.”