The leisurely afternoon passed quietly as the group strolled through the well-managed Eighth City under Feng Qinghe’s management, patrolling until dinnertime.
Upon their return, they sat down to eat.
The atmosphere was relatively relaxed.
Gu Anqi and Xie Daoan conversed in hushed tones, their conversation naturally shifting from the rare border herbs they had observed at a long-established pharmacy that afternoon to the security details of the markets and the effectiveness of the refugee management they had witnessed along the way.
Their conversation was filled with discussion and praise.
Ah Chen remained silent, like a shadow, quietly eating, only occasionally glancing out the window with his usual scrutinizing gaze.
After several rounds of drinks and five dishes, just as the conversation was in full swing, the door to the private room was silently pushed open.
The bodyguard, Hongzhu, quietly entered.
She moved nimbly to Feng Qinghe’s side, leaned close, and whispered a few words in a very low voice.
Feng Qinghe was just picking up a piece of bamboo shoot with her chopsticks when she heard this; she paused slightly.
She didn’t immediately look at Hongzhu but instead turned her head to glance at Ah Chen sitting opposite her.
A smile involuntarily crept onto her lips, revealing a half-smile, tinged with a hint of mockery.
She put down her chopsticks, waved to Hongzhu, and spoke as casually as if giving a trivial instruction: “Oh, is that what happened?
It’s alright.
Go and tell them that it’s just a misunderstanding, that they’re family.
They don’t need to panic or take any action.
Also, have Director Liu from the neighborhood committee send two of the most enthusiastic and eloquent women over there to reassure the neighbors who reported it.
Everyone is vigilant and proactively reports suspicious situations.
This is their duty, their contribution to the safety of our Eighth City, and it’s all out of good intentions.
Let’s not let this misunderstanding dampen the precious spirit of our neighbors.” Hongzhu accepted the order, a faint smile appearing on her face.
She bowed respectfully and then quietly withdrew as she had come, gently closing the door behind her.
Seeing this, Xie Daoan, who had been keeping an eye on the situation, stroked his beard and asked with a smile, “General Feng, what is so interesting?
Is there some interesting news in the city?” His tone was gentle, with the concern of an elder.
Feng Qinghe picked up a handkerchief and wiped her mouth, her smile undiminished.
She looked at Xie Daoan, then glanced at Gu Anqi, who had looked up with a questioning gaze, before finally fixing her gaze on Ah Chen, who was slightly frowning.
Her tone carried an almost boastful helplessness: “It’s nothing serious, just an amusing misunderstanding.” She deliberately dragged out her words, “It’s just that our brother Ah Chen was ‘observing the people’s conditions’ in the city by himself this afternoon, and I’m afraid…
well, his aura was too strong, and he inadvertently ‘frightened’ a few enthusiastic and responsible neighbors in Sishuifang.
” She paused deliberately, savoring Ah Chen’s instantly cold expression, before slowly explaining: “Our brother Ah Chen, this afternoon in Sishuifang, seemed quite interested in that old tree at the entrance of the neighborhood.
He stopped under it and ‘admired’ it for a while.” She emphasized the word “admired,” with a clear hint of teasing.
“Perhaps he stood there for a long time, and given his extraordinary and uncommon demeanor, plus being a new face, he caught the attention of several sharp-eyed and highly responsible neighbors.
They thought his cold face, his long stay, and his suspicious behavior made them suspect he might be a scouting party.
So, strictly following the ‘Residents’ Joint Defense Regulations’ of our Eighth City, they reported it to the ‘section chief’ level by level.
The ‘section chief’ didn’t dare to be negligent and reported it to the ‘community.’ After verifying it, the community felt the situation was special and reported it directly to the ‘neighborhood committee.'” As she spoke, she found the process quite dramatic and couldn’t help but chuckle.
She shook her head, her eyes full of mockery: “The key is that it wasn’t just one household that reported it, one after another, and the descriptions were quite detailed.
And that’s how the news reached Hongzhu.” Upon hearing this, Gu Anqi was first taken aback, then chuckled, shaking his head helplessly.
His gaze towards A-Chen held a hint of pity; he could easily imagine the scene: A-Chen, with his cold and aloof demeanor, standing motionless under the old tree in the commoners’ market like a god of war—it would be strange if he weren’t mistaken for a bad guy.
This perfectly illustrated the power of the “city masses” model described in the handbook.
Ah Chen’s face was beyond simply “unpleasant”; it was as dark and gloomy as the night before a storm, the bottom of a pot.
He had indeed stood under that old tree for a long time that afternoon, not to admire it, but to observe the layout of the alley and the possible secret passage exits.
This was his habit.
He never expected that it would attract such “attention.” He felt an extremely absurd sense of frustration.
In his life, he had always been a free spirit, leaving no trace.
He had never been treated like this before, being treated like a thief by ordinary people and being “watched” by several people.
Seeing Ah Chen’s discomfiture, Feng Qinghe seemed even happier.
She picked up the serving chopsticks and carefully chose a piece of braised pork belly, glistening with oil and perfectly marbled with fat and lean meat, from the plate.
She placed it steadily into Ah Chen’s almost untouched bowl, speaking earnestly, as if comforting a wronged yet stubborn child: “Brother Ah Chen, don’t take it to heart.
This shows that the people of our Eighth City are highly vigilant and responsible!
This is a great thing!
You’ve contributed to testing the effectiveness of our ‘resident joint defense’ system.
Here, have a piece of meat; don’t be upset.” Ah Chen stared at the glistening braised pork in the bowl, veins throbbing on his forehead, his fingers tightening around his chopsticks, a chill emanating from him that seemed to freeze the surrounding air.
He forced out two words through gritted teeth: “eventful.” Feng Qinghe was completely unfazed by his cold aura.
Instead, she laughed even harder at his rare display of suppressed emotion.
She turned to Xie Daoan, who was stroking his beard and smiling, and Gu Anqi, who was trying to sip his tea to hide his laughter, and said, “See?
This is what you call the ‘vast ocean of people’s war.’ No matter how high your martial arts skills are, or how skillful your stealth is, you can’t hide from millions of discerning eyes.” Her tone was full of pride.
Xie Daoan stroked his beard and smiled, his eyes filled with appreciation: “General Feng’s rule is effective, and the people are so virtuous; it is truly a blessing for the border region.” These words were upright and honest, both a compliment and, upon closer examination, seemed to carry a hint of amusement at the “play” unfolding before him.
Gu Anqi lowered his head, sipping his tea and intently blowing on the emerald green liquor to conceal the smile that gradually spread across his lips.
He knew, however, that Feng Qinghe was telling Ah Chen and him in the most mundane way possible: in the Thirteen Alliances, especially in the city she had long cultivated, his every move was likely under the watchful eyes of countless “well-meaning” people.
Individual martial prowess was constrained here by a different system—a resilient yet powerful force rooted in daily life and based on collective consciousness.
If Ah Chen wanted to maintain his absolute secrecy and freedom of movement like a shadow in such a place, it would likely be far more difficult than he anticipated.