61-The Magistrate Wants You.

---

"Exhale!"

"Inhale!"

With the boost of max-level experience, Zhong Lin's mastery of the *Red Sun Stance Technique* reached the creator's level, giving him an elevated perspective—as if he'd been practicing stances for decades.

His eyes slightly closed, hands clasped loosely before his chest, as if embracing the sun.

A scorching aura radiated from him, the air within three feet around him feeling like a furnace.

If someone approached Zhong Lin closely and listened, they might even hear the sound of his blood flowing.

As time passed, sweat beaded on Zhong Lin's forehead, his clothes dampening. It was as if his entire body was perspiring, the qi and blood coursing through him igniting—from warm to searing hot.

"Exhale!"

After half an hour, Zhong Lin slowly opened his eyes, exhaling a turbid breath. The breath lingered in the air, solid and unyielding, stretching several feet long.

"My qi and blood grew by a third again. Shame there's no pill to help—it'd increase even more. I don't dare overdo it either; it could easily deplete my body."

Zhong Lin wiped the sweat from his brow, less than pleased with today's progress on the *Red Sun Stance Technique*.

*Knock, knock, knock!* 

"Zhong Lin, open the door quick—it's me, Old Zhou!"

Old Zhou's voice came from outside, urgent and insistent.

Zhong Lin frowned, puzzled. Why was Old Zhou here now? It wasn't even quitting time yet. Pondering, he strode over and opened the courtyard gate.

"Old Zhou, what's going on?"

Old Zhou didn't reply, grabbing Zhong Lin's arm and pulling him out.

"Good thing you're home—hurry, the County Magistrate wants you."

"Wants me? Did something happen?"

Zhong Lin grew even more confused. His public identity was just a painter—why would the County Magistrate summon him?

"No idea. Hurry up—don't keep the County Magistrate waiting."

"Stop dragging me!"

Under Old Zhou's prodding, the two soon arrived at the yamen.

With the war's end, the yamen had gradually regained its former order, though some familiar faces were gone, replaced by new ones.

Since the Chi Yan incident, Zhong Lin had rarely shown up at the yamen.

"The County Magistrate is waiting inside—don't be rude."

Old Zhou whispered instructions before stopping to wait outside.

Zhong Lin nodded and stepped into the hall. Four people sat in grandmaster chairs on either side—three men and one woman.

At the head was an old man, flanked by a young man and woman. The County Magistrate sat at the lowest left position, beneath the young man.

The scene caught Zhong Lin off guard, but he quickly composed himself, bowing respectfully. "Zhong Lin pays respects to the County Magistrate."

This was his first time meeting Heishan County's County Magistrate up close. He'd glimpsed him from afar on the city wall once, looking disheveled then. Today, though, he wore a pristine black cloud-patterned robe, his hair neatly combed.

"You're Zhong Lin?"

The County Magistrate's expression mirrored Head Constable Xue Zheng's when he first met Zhong Lin—full of astonishment.

In their minds, painters were typically elderly men or scholarly, bookish types.

But Zhong Lin had a broad back and narrow waist, a youthful face—nothing like a painter, more like some noble's son.

"Indeed."

"I've heard you can draw based on descriptions from others?"

"Yes. Does the County Magistrate have any instructions?"

"Perfect. Bring in the prisoner."

At County Magistrate Mei's command, two constables soon escorted in a shackled prisoner.

When Zhong Lin saw the prisoner's face, his heart skipped a beat—it was Xu Ruo, the "Iron-Armed Blade King" who'd fought the Du family patriarch that night. 

He hadn't expected this man to be captured too—a Sixth Rank Qi and Blood Realm expert, now reduced to a prisoner.

This instantly humbled Zhong Lin's pride in reaching Sixth Rank.

So what if he was Sixth Rank? He could still be chained up like a dog.

No room for arrogance! 

As he reflected, others brought in brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone.

"Begin!"

"Yes."

Zhong Lin stepped to the desk, sat down, and picked up the brush.

Xu Ruo looked up at the old man in the center, his voice hoarse. "If I confess everything, can you spare my life?"

"Insolent!"

County Magistrate Mei slammed the table, furious. "You dare negotiate terms? Seems the punishment wasn't enough. Men, take him out for severe torture—I refuse to believe we can't pry his mouth open."

"Enough."

The old man sipping tea frowned, setting down his cup.

"For a civilian martial artist to reach Sixth Rank is rare and commendable. Sparing your life—what's the harm?"

Xu Ruo's face lit up with joy. He dropped to his knees with a thud, bowing deeply, his neck shackles clanging against the floor.

"Thank you, Senior! Thank you, Senior!"

"Speak!"

"Yes. Strategist Han… Han Jin, twenty-five years old, pale and beardless, delicate features, eyes…"

As Xu Ruo spoke, an image of a young man formed in Zhong Lin's mind.

Moments later, Zhong Lin lifted his brush. In the time it took an incense stick to burn, the image in his head appeared vividly on paper.

Zhong Lin hadn't seen this man, but he'd caught the word "strategist." Likely, this was the rebel army's advisor—perhaps even the mastermind behind the "bone-tossing" scheme against the Zhang and Du families.

He blew the ink dry on the paper and presented it with both hands.

"Sir, it's done."

Xu Ruo glanced at the portrait, his expression excited. "Yes, that's Han Jin."

The others turned their eyes to Zhong Lin's drawing, instantly captivated.

It was uncanny—too lifelike.

The figure in the portrait seemed almost real, as if he could step out at any moment.

"This skill—it's like a knife in the butt: eye-opening!"

The young man, silent until now, couldn't help but praise.

His odd way of complimenting left Zhong Lin feeling strange, but he replied, "Thank you. Just a minor trick, my bread and butter."

"No, no, no."

The young man stood, closely inspecting Zhong Lin's work, his eyes gleaming.

"This isn't some small trick—I've never seen such fine painting. If you went to a brothel and drew the girls there, tsk tsk, it'd be like water flooding a tile shop: overflowing riches!"

Zhong Lin stayed quiet, a mix of embarrassment and shy amusement on his face.

Seeing Zhong Lin's expression, the young man's eyes lit up, his interest piqued. 

"Wait… you've actually done that?"

Zhong Lin gave an awkward laugh. "Life forced my hand, life forced my hand."

"Come on, tell me—how much do you charge?"

"Shut your mouth."

---