A farce!
This was absolutely a ridiculous farce!
The applause from the audience grew competitive, with the Eastern and Western factions refusing to yield, neither willing to stop first.
On stage, Uncle Dong stood frozen, dumbfounded. Backstage, the Winter Squad members and all the retired veteran lecturers were equally stunned, faces blank.
What… what just happened?
No one knew what had happened.
Even Cheng Ye, the instigator, was slightly taken aback, though he suppressed it seamlessly, showing no trace of anything that could raise suspicion.
After a while, as Uncle Dong bowed repeatedly and fled back to the backstage in a flustered rush, the applause gradually died down, putting an end to the farce.
“Cheng Ye, do you already have some… special connection with the Westerners?” Lee Matteo asked, his face darkening as he gestured with his eyes toward Dario Haven.
He didn’t believe for a second that Dario Haven was clapping to liven up the study session or to support an obscure Eastern warrior.“No, don’t talk nonsense,” Cheng Ye replied, shaking his head as he sat down.
He didn’t want anyone misunderstanding that his stint at the North Station meant he’d joined the Western faction.
Besides, something had felt off about Dario Haven from the moment he entered, his gaze toward Cheng Ye burning with intensity.
“Good, I don’t want to deal with anyone picking sides,” Lee Matteo said, shrinking back slightly. Despite his words, he instinctively scooted a bit farther away.
His street smarts told him to keep his distance from Cheng Ye right now, lest he get caught in some vague fallout.
Reality soon proved his instincts right.
The study session had barely ended, and before dismissal was announced, a staff member approached. “Inspector Cheng, Inspector Haven would like to meet with you to discuss handling hydrophilic infected entities. Do you have time now?”
“Lead the way,” Cheng Ye said with a nod, deciding to face whatever came head-on.
Though he still didn’t understand why the Westerners’ attitude had shifted, his gut told him this wasn’t a bad thing and didn’t conflict with his original plan.
To survive the East-West faction struggle, strength was the first requirement to stand firm.
And that strength? He already had it.
It might not be top-tier, but it was enough to hold his own. He was no longer a green trainee inspector.
With this strength, he could move forward with his next plan.
Picking a side.
Lee Matteo’s fence-sitting approach might work for others at the checkpoint, but it definitely wasn’t for him.
Before understanding what the factions were fighting over, Cheng Ye had considered staying neutral.
But once he learned they were vying for a transcendent opportunity, he knew there was no staying out of it. The East and West were locked in a fight to the death.
Unless Harlin was willing to give up this once-every-six-years transcendent baptism and wait another six years, risking Ding Yishan failing to awaken again and forcing another round of conflict, there was no avoiding a showdown this time.
“Joining the Easterners is the best choice and my original plan,” Cheng Ye thought. “Aligning with the Westerners is too risky and not an option, but meeting them could show Ding Yishan I’m changing.”
It was a bold move.
Cheng Ye might have hesitated before, but now he was eager to test the waters.
His growing strength had bolstered his courage.
Before even heading to the South Station, he was already itching to push Station Chief Ding a bit.
“But to stand firm now, strength alone isn’t enough. I need a significant achievement to my name,” he mused. “With a solid offering, I can secure the faction’s protection.”
Lost in thought, Cheng Ye kept walking.
Following the staff member to the adjacent area, he was surprised to find the entire floor had been renovated overnight.
A room once used for actors’ rest had been cleared out as a meeting space.
Pushing open the door, he saw that the corner once cluttered with costume racks now held a silver-gray desktop air conditioner, its white vent silently blowing cool air, keeping the summer heat at bay.
Two dark gray fabric sofas were arranged in an L-shape, with a walnut coffee table between them, its edges polished smooth.
On the table, three white porcelain cups sat neatly in a row, next to a purple clay teapot steaming with faint heat.
“Inspector Cheng, please have a seat,” Dario Haven said, gesturing with a perfectly measured smile.
From a normal person’s perspective, ignoring faction politics, his demeanor was disarming and easy to like.
Cheng Ye sat on the opposite sofa. Before he could speak, Dario lifted the teapot and began pouring.
“I admire Eastern culture, especially tea culture,” Dario said. “You probably know that all plants in Shi Province lose their qualities over time. These tea cakes were traded from other provinces, a real luxury.”
Indeed, a luxury.
The faint tea aroma might not stand out in the modern era, but after two months of bland nutrient paste, the crisp fragrance at Cheng Ye’s nose felt like a soothing balm, refreshing his entire body.
For a moment, he felt as if he’d fallen into a lush tea field, greedily soaking in nature’s fresh, vibrant scent.
Remarkable.
But the next second, Cheng Ye snapped back. “This isn’t ordinary tea, is it?”
“You guessed right. These leaves carry a touch of transcendent essence,” Dario said, giving an appreciative nod. “Shi Province has its transcendent curse, and other provinces aren’t immune either. But some curses, when used well, like ‘sick stones,’ can turn waste into treasure.”
“Try it. It’s a specialty from Sha Province, Cloud Mist Tea.”
“Thank you,” Cheng Ye said, nodding. Without hesitation, he picked up the porcelain cup and took a sip.
Hiss.
So crisp! Was this the life of the elite?
An indescribable freshness exploded on his tongue, spreading through his taste buds.
It was like swallowing a supercharged throat lozenge. Part of the coolness rushed down his throat, while another part seemed to escape through his senses.
“Refreshing!”
As the penetrating coolness faded, Cheng Ye exhaled a puff of white mist, like the cold fog of winter.
Hence the name, Cloud Mist.
“If you like it, take this unbrewed tea cake with you,” Dario said, pulling a palm-sized aluminum foil packet from under the table.
Peeling back a corner, he revealed a tightly pressed, vibrant green tea cake.
“I invited you here today to get to know each other. Station Chief Harlin has high hopes for promising young inspectors like you. He hopes you’ll contribute greatly at the North Station and make a difference for Happiness City.”
Dario’s fingers lightly tapped the edge of his teacup, his smile carrying a hint of deeper meaning. “My defense communicator ID is 2217. If you ever run into trouble, Inspector Cheng, someone like you can always count on me to lend a hand.”
“Thank you,” Cheng Ye said again, sensing the dismissal. He picked up the tea packet, nodded, and left.
Trouble. This guy was a master at winning people over, not far behind Ding Yishan.
If Dario had stated his intentions outright and pressured him to choose a side, Cheng Ye could’ve brushed it off, saying he’d think it over.
But this unhurried, subtle approach left little room to refuse, not even a chance to say no.
Fine by him.
Cheng Ye’s fingers traced the creases on the foil packet. If you’re not in a rush, neither am I. Let’s see who blinks first.
He didn’t believe Ding Yishan would turn a blind eye to the commotion in the hall or this meeting with Dario.
As the door closed, Dario downed the Cloud Mist Tea in his cup, quickly refilling it from the teapot.
Like a cow chewing peonies, he drank until the pot was empty, then let out a long, tea-scented breath, slumping back into the sofa.
But a closer look revealed a trace of pain on his face.
Cloud Mist Tea wasn’t some common good. The packet Cheng Ye took was worth at least 50 contribution points.
More critically, Sha Province was far from Shi Province, and trade caravans rarely made the trip.
It was truly a case of one packet drunk, one less to go!
“Station Chief,” Dario said, picking up his defense communicator and making a call.
“You’ve made contact?” Harlin’s voice came through.
“He’s got skills and stays calm. That intel we had? No idea who cooked it up, but it’s way off.”
“Not surprising,” Harlin chuckled. “Neither Cheng Wu nor Cheng Long had transcendent genes. No way they’d awaken in their lifetime. But their cunning? One outdid the other. They made enemies that could circle Happiness City. If their precious son wasn’t ‘useless,’ he’d have been taken out long ago. No chance he’d be out here inheriting an inspector role.”
“So, is it possible he can’t awaken either?”
“Hard to say,” Harlin mused. “Can you pull him in?”
“Tough,” Dario replied quickly, recounting their conversation.
A long silence followed before Harlin spoke again. “Keep an eye on him. Cheng Wu and Cheng Long left too many favors. Making a move on him would be messy. Don’t let him die at the North Station. Wait until he’s sent to the South Station. And the inner city? That’s a tough hurdle unless Ding Yishan’s willing to go all-in to protect him.”
“Got it.”
The call ended.
Soon after, the door opened, and a Western inspector entered, sitting where Cheng Ye had been.
“Sir, I’ve let the Easterners know we met with Cheng Ye. Station Chief Ding should hear about it soon.”
“Good,” Dario nodded slightly. “What’s Lee Matteo’s deal with him, getting so cozy?”
“Probably knows he can’t keep coasting. Autumn’s coming, and he’ll have to pick a side. So he’s latching onto an Easterner early, putting pressure on us to stay neutral. But with his personality, he’s too cautious to go too far, scared we’ll hit back hard. So he picks a trainee inspector.”
“Him? Putting pressure on us?” Dario scoffed, dismissive. “Forget him then. For the next five days, I’ll arrange for you to work with Cheng Ye. Keep a close eye on him. Don’t let the Easterners get desperate and force us into a corner.”
“Rest assured, sir,” the Western inspector said with a nod, then hesitated. “But just a trainee inspector, is he worth—”
“Worth it. Absolutely worth it,” Dario cut him off sharply. “Cheng Long left behind a ton of favors. He could die anywhere, just not at our Western North Station. We can’t let Cloud Leopard and Long Abyss team up against me to steal my station chief position, got it?”
“Station Chief!”
“Mm.”
“Liu Bi didn’t say much, but I did. The situation’s mostly clear.”
“Hm?”
“Cheng Long was hiding something, and he hid it deep, fooling everyone.”
“Cheng Ye doesn’t match any of our intel. He’s ruthless, steady, and chasing personal power to the limit. He’s got little interest in faction disputes. The old grudges at the checkpoint, especially from Cheng Wu’s generation, he doesn’t know or care about.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Why else would the inner city toss him out for us to deal with?”
“Good. Did you tell him the benefits of picking a side?”
“I did. He’s not against it. I think we can try him. He might carry the flag for the checkpoint’s younger generation, like Cheng Long did. But the pressure from the inner city…”
“I know. You don’t need to worry about what’s next.”
“And the old favors?”
“Wiped clean. Also… I’m glad the checkpoint still has someone like you with that original spirit.”
“Station Chief, you’re joking. I’m just an old hustler. What spirit? I just think it’s a shame to grovel for transcendence after all our predecessors’ efforts.”
On the theater’s third floor, yet to be cleaned, Lee Matteo hung up the phone. His gaze drifted through a hole in the wall, landing on Cheng Ye as he walked away.
A glint of excitement flashed in his eyes, as if he’d stumbled upon a rare treasure.
But just as quickly, it vanished, his eyes returning to their usual lazy, murky haze.