Eldritch Horror Theatre

Social gatherings were elusive things—at once superficial and substantial.

More often than not, the simple act of conversing mattered far more than whatever was actually said.

With the minor interlude concluded, Fu Qian savored his food while taking in the subtle shifts in the atmosphere around them.

Take Grantham just now, for instance. Though their conversation had lacked any real substance—and the food he recommended had been rather bizarre—the true significance lay in his willingness to break from convention.

Gulade’s expansion into Shangjing had been fraught with twists and turns.

First, Ambor’s overly aggressive maneuvers had been exposed, costing them a Demigod Realm expert outright.

Then came the recent Greed Worm incident, rubbing salt in the wound. Not only had a crowd gathered to eagerly watch the spectacle, but quite a few had seized the chance to kick them while they were down.

It had gotten so bad that poor Taylor, caught attempting to scavenge the scene, was marched off to the authorities.

Yet, having stubbornly weathered the storm, their relationship with the new municipal officer had undoubtedly entered a stage of harmony, shifting from opposition to support.

Still, while this might be a tacit understanding with the Night Watchers, the onlookers couldn’t necessarily gauge the exact boundaries of that relationship.If the Night Watchers didn’t mind, putting that tacit understanding on display was undeniably beneficial for Gulade right now.

The only potential risk was that Yuan Shan might take offense at the interruption.

On one hand, her willingness to grace the event with her presence already served as a clear endorsement of Gan Zuoxun, and Grantham’s actions were merely highlighting that fact.

On the other hand, by choosing to greet Fu Qian first, Grantham had clearly deciphered Chief Yuan’s mindset and played along flawlessly.

...

Why had Yuan Shan asked him to tag along? Was it truly just to sponge off the free food and drinks as she claimed? Absolutely.

Fu Qian didn’t suspect any grand, calculated scheme. Yuan Shan had simply planned to attend anyway, realized he was back in town, and casually brought him along.

As noted before, she had no need to walk on eggshells at an event like this.

However, his presence here offered benefits that extended far beyond a good meal.

Grantham wanted everyone to see the tacit understanding between Gulade and the Night Watchers. But what about the dynamic between the Bookstore Owner and the Night Watchers?

Across all the recent incidents in Shangjing, Fu Qian hadn’t exactly kept a low profile.

Anyone paying even a shred of attention would know about his unique existence.

But just how unique was he?

Much like Grantham’s apprehensions, the rest of the onlookers probably lacked an accurate gauge of his true standing.

Everyone here ran in the same circles. While they might harbor absolute reverence for the Night Watchers, there was always the risk that some bolder individuals, spurred by half-baked ambitions, might try to disrupt his peace.

Yuan Shan’s solution to that concern was simple: drag him along to make a public appearance by her side.

For one, he had contributed to resolving the Gan Zuoxun incident, so he was essentially here to inspect their handiwork.

For another, it gave the audience a perfectly calibrated measuring stick.

This mysterious figure was someone who casually rubbed shoulders with the local chief. That fact alone was enough to ensure everyone maintained their current manners going forward—do not disturb him unless he disturbs you first.

He was braving this noisy social gathering to secure a quieter everyday life.

And Grantham choosing him as a focal point was the perfect complement to that goal—

In Gulade’s eyes, greeting him before the Night Watcher Chief wouldn’t displease her in the slightest.

This dynamic would undoubtedly magnify the shock value for the rest of the room.

It wasn’t the grandest of gestures, but it was the thought that counted.

One had to admit that, even if Excellency Grantham wasn’t particularly high in Rank, he was certainly giving his all as the man in charge of Shangjing.

And as the imposing figure responsible for all this cautious tip-toeing, Fu Qian had to admit—the feeling that the fox exploits the tiger’s might wasn’t bad at all.

”Mister Fang...”

The feeling only improved a moment later.

Having clearly psyched himself up, Old Man Chen Pingxian—who had been caught in a state of rapid flip-flopping mere moments ago—now strode over with unruffled elegance to offer a greeting.

...

Overshadowing the master with overwhelming merit often invites disaster.

Grantham’s earlier greeting had been a calculated move to cooperate with Chief Yuan.

Then Old Man Chen’s approach right now made that tacit understanding somewhat glaring.

Going too far is as bad as falling short; the old man wasn’t quite as composed on the inside as he appeared on the outside.

”Hello, Elder Chen.”

Nevertheless, fully embracing his role as the chief instigator of this entire situation, Fu Qian greeted him without dropping his smile.

”My apologies... I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Chief Yuan earlier. It seems you have some interest in cultivation methods?”

Not one to disappoint, Old Man Chen also showcased the boldness of a true clan leader.

After his internal struggle, he had apparently decided to just put everything out in the open, right in front of Yuan Shan.

And not just Yuan Shan, either.

Thanks to the new municipal officer’s widespread appeal, practically all the elites of the Shangjing transcendent realm were gathered here.

By putting it squarely on the table for everyone to hear, he was forcing the Night Watchers to at least consider the public optics—even if Chief Yuan herself currently looked entirely unconcerned.

She merely cast a casual glance their way before going back to enjoying the banquet.

He’d spun this web of nonsense; he could untangle it himself.

Fu Qian easily read the message in her eyes.

”I do, particularly in the Chen Clan’s Mechanism Guiding Art.”

Profoundly grasping her meaning, Fu Qian nodded, completely abandoning tact.

”...I see. However... to cultivate that particular technique, one must possess our family’s bloodline.”

Sincerity was truly a moving thing. Fu Qian hadn’t shied away from directly naming the family’s core secret art.

However, Fu Qian’s blatant response landed like a sledgehammer on the mental fortifications the old man had so painstakingly erected.

Still, after a brief, teeth-gritting struggle, Old Man Chen refused to back down, choosing instead to emphasize the technique’s limitations.

’So there’s a prerequisite for practicing this art?’

Rubbing his chin, Fu Qian looked thoughtful. He didn’t even try to argue the point.

”That’s exactly why I need to pay a visit and watch your people practice.”

...

”Huh?”

For a moment, Old Man Chen was completely stumped.

”I’d like to drop by and observe when the time is right. Would that be an inconvenience?”

Fu Qian didn’t push him too hard.

”That shouldn’t be a problem... though I fear it might disappoint you, sir.”

’Just observe?’

After what felt like his hundredth bout of rapid flip-flopping, a glimmer of light finally returned to Old Man Chen’s eyes.

This was completely different from what he’d imagined, prompting an almost subconscious display of modesty.

”Oh? Are you questioning my eye for these things?”

Fu Qian’s expression sobered. He looked back with a slight frown.

...

”So, who is that over there?”

Amidst the jovial atmosphere of the gathering, an academic exchange was effortlessly scheduled.

Professor Fu, forever attending to myriad affairs daily, quickly shifted his gaze to his next subject, nodding toward the far side of the room.

He had to admit, this new ’subject’ was significantly younger. Fu Qian would bet she wasn’t a day over twenty.

A youthful face that heavy makeup couldn’t mask, a vibrant energy that her long dress couldn’t contain, and a gaze she hadn’t quite learned how to veil.

She had been staring in their direction, seemingly working up the nerve to approach, but Old Man Chen’s sudden intrusion had left her looking rather flustered.

”Gan Zuoxun’s precious daughter.”

Yuan Shan had clearly noticed her ages ago; she supplied the identity without even batting an eye.

Oh? Baby... Gan?

The jianghu atmosphere in Shangjing was certainly growing thicker by the minute.