A forceful, abrupt knock at the wooden door broke the normally peaceful silence that had surrounded Zhang Zhixun's office. The man, intensely focused on studying an ancient scroll covered in precise characters and sketches, briefly raised his eyes from the parchment. Slightly furrowing his brow in curiosity and mild annoyance at the intrusion before him, he authoritatively called out, "Come in."
Lin Yu stepped into the room, his scholar's attire rustling softly as it swept over the exquisitely polished wood floor under his feet. He executed a careful bow, his actions carried out with practiced precision, as though he were doing so under the guidance of the muscle memory imparted to him by his predecessor. "Greetings, Master Zhang," he said clearly, his voice steady and calm, although his chest was churning with nervousness.
Zhang Zhixun gave a slight nod in response, a small smile creeping over his face and mellowing out his otherwise tough-featured face typical of him. A man well into early forty, his eyes sharp and piercing as if capable of seeing through everything that surrounded him, his casual posture had a hidden aura of command as a high-ranking member of staff. No preliminary and no time-wasting, he leaned forward a little into his chair, putting the scroll down with thoughtful precision. "Has the report been completed?" he asked bluntly, his question implying urgency to his task at hand.
He stood up, holding in his hands the neatly wrapped scroll with a look of rock-solid determination emanating from his very self. "Indeed," he spoke slowly and clearly, his words carrying a deep solemnity regarding the task before him. "All persons involved in any capacity in the Red Scale Lotus trafficking case have been thoroughly and painstakingly documented for future reference.
The Red Scale Lotus, which seemed so frail-looking, was a flower that had an incredibly deceptive character. Its intensely colored petals were much valued and coveted for the very excellent quality of greatly facilitating the processes of cultivation when carefully combined with a variety of substances, including wine and food. The very sweet flavor of this incredible flower made it a real delicacy, particularly with members of the nobility class who desired its distinct taste. The real danger, though, surrounding the Red Scale Lotus lay in the possible hazards of its consumption in large quantities.
The widespread and rampant overindulgence of these substances propelled people into a maelstrom of disorder, ripping their minds asunder as they unleashed a torrent of unrelenting bloodshed and mayhem on their world. Though the Xu Dynasty had formally banned the consumption of these substances, the temptation and fascination of these mind-altering items, both tools for cultivation and hedonistic pleasures that were officially banned, permitted them to lie hidden and to flourish in obscurity, well out of the reach and power of the authorities.
The people who had been captured for dealing in or using the substance received a variety of harsh and heavy penalties, including imprisonment, banishment from their native land, or in a worst-case scenario, execution. This was always based on the size and seriousness of the crime involved. In this scenario, Lin Yu's key responsibility was to extensively record each and every aspect of the alleged incident, making a very comprehensive and thorough record that would later have a major part to play in determining how all of the people involved in the case would end up.
The heavy weight of the work at hand was well within his perception. Aware as he was that his predecessor had been woefully inadequate at the important task of collecting reliable information, leaning at times on flimsy half-truths and inexact reports that created confusion, in a strange twist of fate, Lin Yu was able to assemble the comprehensive report with ease, and this achievement could be credited to a large extent to the tremendous aid he had from Zhang Zhixun.
The high-ranking official, showing immense prescience and command, had personally sent his own deputies, that were not mere laborers, but veteran men with years of experience deployed throughout the Zhenxun state, to help out in the salient task of gathering evidence. Their exceptional speed and knowhow had aptly filled out lacunae in Lin Yu's available knowledge, making what had originally appeared as a herculean and insurmountable challenge merely a tractable and possible one.
If Lin Yu stopped to characterize his feelings toward Zhang Zhixun, the first term to enter his consciousness would unquestionably be "easygoing." This was a trait that shone through clearly in Lin Yu's thoughts. Though Zhang occupied a high place among the hierarchy, he failed to demonstrate any sign of arrogance or haughtiness like Lin Yu had expected among members of the Xu Dynasty upper echelons. Instead, he was extraordinarily approachable, always available and willing to lend a helping hand when necessary, and as bountifully generous as was within his grasp.
Lin Yu's predecessor always felt deeply indebted to Zhang Zhixun, acknowledging the profound influence he had on his life. When he passed over the scroll, the physical weight of it was an emotional reminder of just how much he really valued everything the man had done for him. He was acutely aware that if not for the wonderful help and advice offered by Zhang, his predecessor would certainly have made many mistakes along the way that would have, in the end, resulted in his death.
Zhang Zhixun slowly ran his gaze through the scroll, his eyes scanning quickly over the well-ordered and painstakingly inscribed calligraphy that filled the document. When he finished scanning it, after a while, he raised his gaze and looked into Lin Yu's eyes, and as he did so, a broad face-splitting smile spread across his face, expanding by degrees as his approval deepened. "Good work," he remarked with a warm and encouraging voice, which, however, had a hard edge to it. "You have to keep yourself well-informed of everything that's going on in Zhenxun state."
Lin Yu nodded his head contemplatively, well pondering on how immense a responsibility he carried as a scholar-informant, feeling it embed itself increasingly into his very own skeleton, becoming a part and parcel of his own self. His first and foremost responsibility as a scholar-informant was to diligently and meticulously recount each important development occurring within the Zhenxun state and, as a consequence, provide that bottomless craving for information that was typical of the Xu Dynasty, a craving that was never sufficiently sated or gratified. Inexact information or lacunae on his part could mean ruin for him, potentially triggering terrible fates that ranged from demotion, exile, to grislier and more terrifying fates than his own imagination could conjure. The empire's byzantine and complex bureaucracy was a cold, remorseless machine that callously crushed all such people as failed to keep its numerous wheels turning well and effectively.
"Yes, Master Zhang," he replied, his tone firm and impassive, indicating a sense of irrevocable determination.
Zhang lifted a hand in a casual gesture, a dismissive sign undoubtedly conveyed to everyone in his presence. "If there is nothing more to speak of, you may now withdraw."
Lin Yu conducted another deferential bow, displaying his acknowledgment, but as he started turning to exit, a pivotal idea suddenly reared its head in his thoughts with immense urgency. He came to understand that he wanted to create a binding relationship with Zhang Zhixun, given the reality that he was indeed a skilled and experienced cultivator. If he managed to create a bond with a person as valuable as Zhang Zhixun, his own chances of survival would definitely register a massive boost. Focused in his thoughts, Lin Yu silently instructed the system, defining his intentions succinctly:
'Bind with Zhang Zhixun.'
Within his own head, a voice that was cold and lacked emotions replied in a chilling tone.
'The amount of talent possessed by target is now judged to be insufficient. Please find a new target with a minimum of 80.'
As Lin Yu stepped into the office, his feet faltered and hesitated for a moment in midstep, revealing a fleeting moment of doubt. His forehead was etched with a deep frown, and there was an irritating tingling feeling at his temples, which seemed to intensify his annoyance. Just when the door was about to shut fully behind him, he caught a brief glimpse of something out of the ordinary: a pink and ghostly number floating eerily above the head of Zhang Zhixun, and that number was 61.
The sum was, by no stretch of the imagination, substantially and infuriatingly insufficient. In real life, it was incredibly small, almost to a ridiculous degree. A rushing burst of irritation swelled in his gorge, and he could do little to stop a fierce and overpowering impulse to curse a blue streak to himself under his breath. The system that had promised high and mighty things as his key to success was already turning out to prove a frustratingly choosy and infuriating force in his life.
He breathed deeply and compelled himself to still his whirling thoughts and calm his frayed nerves as he entered the colorful and active passageway of the administrative building. Everywhere around him, scholars and clerks were rushing by in a flurry of activity, their arms filled with a host of scrolls and heavy volumes, while their faces were all marked by the same silent anxiety and discomfort that Lin Yu himself harbored deep inside.
In a single focused thought, he reactivated the complex system again, and his eyes started to move methodically as they swept over the varied assemblage of people around him. Suddenly, numbers began to materialize before him, glowing above each person's head present around him, scores, he soon saw, that reflected their individual cultivation ability. He saw a young clerk hovering near, her face pinched into a look of worry or tension: her score was only 42. Then his eyes fell on an older scholar whose bent back was weighed down by the burden of age and study: his score was 37. Further along, he saw a grim-faced woman who clutched a large pile of reports tightly to her chest: she had a score of 29. He couldn't help but realize that none of them even approached the critical score of 50, let alone the system's high and lofty requirement of 80 that was required for promotion.
Disillusion crept slowly around him, pouring downwards around his shoulders like a great weighty cloak that weighed upon him with its heavy oppressiveness, and yet he had not had any real hope or expectation to begin with. This was a deeply agonizing form of logic, one which, though dark in its own nature, was still understandable in its own particular manner. If any of these people actually had real aptitude for the complex craft of cultivation, then by logical reasoning, they would most definitely not find themselves here, working hard as scholars of a place regarded as backward and out of the way, like the state of Zhenxun.
In the crowded capital, they would be busy undergoing intense training within some of the most elite sects or carrying out their orders while serving within the elite inner circle of the emperor himself. Lin Yu's jaw clenched in frustration as he felt a surge of frustration. It was absolutely necessary for him to find a cultivator, someone with real power and incredible abilities, and yet the administrative hall that surrounded him seemed to be a sea of overwhelming proportions full of mere mortals.