Chapter Fifteen: The Enigmatic Sacred Heart

The Han Empire explicitly mandated that all official and private enterprises must adhere to an eight-hour workday. For critical positions requiring round-the-clock presence and impossible to leave unattended, a three-shift rotation system was implemented. Government agencies bearing vital responsibilities, such as the police department and the Public Opinion Bureau, operated under this three-shift system. However, most other departments followed a nine-to-five schedule.

At precisely five o’clock in the afternoon, the dedicated governmental information channel exclusive to Bai Yu Jing fell silent instantly, with no new reports flooding in. Simultaneously, inside the Imperial Study, the two South Palace Lin clones emitted a soft “pop” sound and quietly dissolved into the air, as if they had never existed.

Bai Yu Jing lazily stretched his limbs, rose from the comfortable sofa, and paced behind the wide crescent-shaped desk. He clicked on a special icon on the desktop—the Han Internal Affairs Management System—designed specifically for officials’ daily work. Its defense level rivaled that of the military, with constantly updated firewalls to thwart any hacker intrusion.

He precisely opened a specially marked folder and summoned the final personnel selection list for the Kunlun Academy. The registration deadline for Kunlun Academy was today at five p.m. Shortly thereafter, an AI would filter suitable students from the list.

One of the core screening criteria was to ensure that at least fifty percent of the final selected candidates were from worker and peasant backgrounds. To prevent any tampering with this list, Bai Yu Jing had to personally review it for final approval.

The AI’s efficiency was astonishing. In a short time, the names, photos, detailed identity information, and social classes (celebrities, merchants, workers, peasants, etc.) of ten thousand selected candidates were clearly listed in an electronic spreadsheet.

Bai Yu Jing scrolled swiftly through the list with the mouse wheel. Occasionally, he paused to directly search for a student’s name, pulling up their file to meticulously verify the authenticity of the information.

As the supreme sage of the Han Empire, he possessed unparalleled authority within this system, capable of accessing any government secret documents, reviewing each citizen’s identity details, and even tracking their online browsing footprints.

After about an hour, Bai Yu Jing finally lifted his head from the screen and stretched languidly. The list was verified without error. He immediately issued the list to the Ministry of Education through the system, instructing them to notify all selected students without delay.

Turning off the computer, Bai Yu Jing stood and said, “Nangong, let’s go.”

“Hmm,” Nangong Lin replied softly, closing the thick tome in her hands.

She already had a plan to escape Blue Star: to attempt targeted cultivation of heterogenous-type superpowers.

Among the six major power types, only the heterogenous type’s superpowers were bizarre and diverse, with limitless possibilities and high potential. Bai Yu Jing himself was a heterogenous-type superpower user.

Nangong Lin intended to specially cultivate the heterogenous superpower of interdimensional transfer.

According to the texts she had read, in the past, some had tried to guide heterogenous awakenings toward specific abilities using hypnosis and other methods, but the results were minimal.

This was because heterogenous superpowers often sprang from the deepest desires within the awakener’s heart, making them difficult to artificially shape by external forces.

However, what others could not achieve, Nangong Lin always could.

She was confident in her own abilities.

Only, she needed to discuss the specific approach thoroughly with Bentley and learn more about superpowers.

Choosing him was prudent: besides being the commander of the Twelve Legions, Bentley also served as the director of the Imperial Research Institute and was an outstanding scientist.

This was another reason Nangong Lin abandoned the idea of fleeing Bai Yu Jing.

She needed to leverage Bai Yu Jing’s power to integrate more rapidly into this world, absorb more knowledge, and reserve an escape route.

...

The two reached the door of the Imperial Study.

Without needing to touch anything, with a subtle movement of Nangong Lin’s divine sense, the button next to the door silently sunk.

The heavy door quietly opened.

Outside was a spacious office area where forty people—chief steward, secretaries, assistants, advisors—worked daily.

At this moment, the slanting rays of the setting sun filtered in. In the vast space, only the chief steward Gao Jinzhong remained seated at his station; the other desks were already empty.

If everyone stayed to work overtime, how could the chief steward’s “loyalty and dedication” be so conspicuous?

“Jinzhong, it’s time. You should clock out and go home now.”

“Yes, the sage speaks rightly,” Gao Jinzhong replied promptly, quickly shutting down his computer and rising swiftly.

Bai Yu Jing’s gaze swept toward the entrance, landing on Lucia, who stood like a statue, and he smiled lightly, “You too. From now on, leave on time when your shift ends. No need to always stand guard here as the gatekeeper.”

Lucia’s spirit instantly brightened.

She had longed to leave ever since, but her position as commander of the Forbidden Army had trapped her in the dilemma of whether or not she should leave at the end of the day, leaving her stuck until now.

Hearing the sage’s personal “pardon,” a joyful sense of relief surged in her heart, and she immediately stepped forward to leave.

But no sooner had she taken two steps than Bai Yu Jing’s leisurely voice came from behind, “You’re really leaving?”

“Eh?!!!”

Lucia’s chest tightened in surprise. She whipped her head around, her exquisite face instantly filled with embarrassment and shock, lips parted as if searching desperately for an excuse.

Seeing this, Bai Yu Jing laughed heartily, “Just teasing you. Go ahead. I have no penchant for exploiting subordinates.”

Beside him, Nangong Lin’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.

No interest in exploitation?

Then what was the reason for her having to split into two clones?

Lucia patted her rising chest, a hint of coquettish grievance in her eyes, “Sage, you scared me. My heart almost stopped.”

Gao Jinzhong nearby observed with a composed demeanor, as if hearing and seeing nothing—perfectly embodying the decorum expected of a chief steward.

Yet inwardly, a subtle ripple stirred.

The sage seemed unusually easygoing with this Commander Lucia. Could it be that he harbored some special feelings?

As the sage of the Han Empire, Bai Yu Jing’s every move was magnified and scrutinized by many, especially by ambitious ministers like Gao Jinzhong.

“Haha, my fault,” Bai Yu Jing smiled, stepping forward to pat her shoulder. No longer teasing, he headed out.

Nangong Lin silently followed.

Lucia, having learned the lesson, lagged two steps behind before leaving the small office area.

She turned left upon exiting, heading toward the main gate.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded behind her.

Looking back, it was Gao Jinzhong jogging to catch up.

“Chief Steward Gao, is there something?”

Lucia was somewhat surprised.

Gao Jinzhong stopped before her, suddenly bowed deeply at a perfect ninety degrees, and said solemnly, “Commander Lucia, this morning at Kunlun Academy, I spoke improperly. I would like to invite you to dinner tonight to apologize.”

Seeing his earnest apology, the last trace of resentment in Lucia’s heart vanished like smoke. She waved her hand dismissively, “It’s nothing. It was all for work. I understand. No need for a meal.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Commander. Then I will take my leave,” Gao Jinzhong bowed again and swiftly departed.

Watching his hurried retreat, a flicker of puzzlement crossed Lucia’s eyes.

Strange—she had stood guard at the gate all afternoon, yet the chief steward showed no sign of apologizing then.

Was it only after work hours... in a private capacity that an apology was fitting?

She couldn’t figure it out, then suddenly realized another crucial issue.

The sage’s instruction to “leave on time” was of course good, but the implication in his words...

Why did it sound as if she was expected to stand guard outside the Imperial Study until five every day?

No, perhaps just to be on duty outside, yet still leave on time?

The sage’s thoughts truly were inscrutable.

“No, I must hurry and ask Mary about this!”

Lucia’s alarm bells rang loudly in her heart as she quickened her pace, running out the door.