It's Good to Have You Here

So this was not what Gu Chengyin needed to do.

What he needed to do was tread the path himself.

With Lin Qingyan as the deterrent and himself as the blade.

To let everyone know that it was Gu Chengyin standing there.

That it was he who faced the joint trial of the three ministries, he who handled everything with calm composure.

Only then would the influence converge on him.

Only then would his cultivation advance further.

Gu Chengyin lifted his foot and strode boldly through the threshold of the Censorate.

Behind him, Lin Qingyan followed silently.

The Censorate was bustling with activity.

Clerics hurried past carrying bundles of documents, censors gathered in small groups murmuring to one another, servants bustled in and out carrying tea trays.

The three-ministry trial was a major event, and the entire Censorate was busily preparing for it.

Gu Chengyin kept his gaze straight ahead, heading directly for the main hall.

His pace was neither fast nor slow, his stride unhurried, as if he were walking through his own backyard.

This calmness was so effortless, so natural, that it seemed he belonged there—so natural that for a moment, no one even realized who he was.

Then someone recognized him.

"That's..."

A young censor stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.

The person beside him followed his gaze and froze as well.

"Junior Preceptor Gu? He came himself?"

"What about the Golden Guard? The Ministry of Justice constables? No one is escorting him?"

"This..."

A mix of gazes converged on him.

Surprise, curiosity, scrutiny, assessment.

But no contempt, no disdain, no one dared to show the slightest disrespect.

Because the Gu Chengyin of today was, to them, a towering figure from the heavens.

Not to mention anything else, just the manner of his arrival said it all.

When others faced the three-ministry trial, they were dragged in by the Golden Guard, surrounded by Ministry of Justice constables.

Battered, disheveled, utterly humiliated.

But Gu Chengyin?

Forget about an escort—he didn't even have a single person accompanying him.

He simply walked in boldly, as casually as if he were coming home to the Censorate.

As if today he wasn't here to stand trial, but to go through the motions, finish up, and then head back home.

This wasn't blind confidence; it was absolute certainty.

All eyes landed on Gu Chengyin, then involuntarily shifted to the figure behind him.

A fairy in a cyan robe, with unparalleled beauty.

She followed quietly behind Gu Chengyin, neither too close nor too far, exactly one step away.

She looked at no one, paid attention to no one.

But precisely because of that, she was all the more unsettling.

Because no one could see through her.

They couldn't discern her cultivation level, couldn't tell her origins, couldn’t figure out who she was.

All they could sense was a faint, pervasive pressure, like a sword hanging over their heads, ready to fall at any moment.

No one dared to look at Lin Qingyan for too long, and no one dared to ask who she was.

Gu Chengyin paid no attention to these stares.

With composed steps, he passed through the crowd and arrived at the entrance of the main hall.

The hall's doors were wide open, and inside it was packed.

High-ranking officials from all three ministries sat neatly on both sides.

From the Ministry of Justice, the Supreme Court of Judicature, and the Censorate—a dense crowd, at least several dozens of them.

They wore their official robes in order of rank, their expressions solemn, the atmosphere heavy.

At the far front, three official desks were arranged side by side.

The Censor-in-Chief sat in the middle, with the Minister of Rites on his left and the Minister of Justice on his right.

These three were all heavyweights at court; any one of them could shake the bureaucratic world three times over with a single stomp.

But Gu Chengyin's gaze did not linger on them.

He looked beyond them to where another official desk stood.

Behind it sat a person.

With a gaunt face, wearing a faded, worn-out official uniform.

Yuan Zhengqing.

Gu Chengyin's eyes rested on Yuan Zhengqing for a moment, countless thoughts racing through his mind.

Which Grand Secretary came to preside over the three-ministry trial carried vastly different implications.

If it were Cui Shifan or Hu Juzheng who had come, there would be no doubt that trouble was brewing.

Both were the Grand Secretary and Deputy Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat.

When they presided over a three-ministry trial, it often meant someone was about to fall from grace.

On the other hand, if it had been Shangguan Yuan who came, then today would truly just be a formality, a mere walk-through.

No matter how much fuss was made, it would all be for show—the process would go on until it was done.

But as fate would have it, the one presiding was Yuan Zhengqing.

That made things very interesting.

Yuan Zhengqing had always been known for his unwavering impartiality.

He did not form factions, did not engage in private deals, did not accept bribes, did not show favoritism.

In Yuan Zhengqing's eyes, there was no personal sentiment—only procedure and evidence.

He would not favor anyone, nor would he target anyone.

In other words...

Today's three-ministry trial would be fair and just.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Gu Chengyin's mouth. These thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, but his face betrayed nothing.

He stepped into the hall with ease and walked toward the chair that had been specially prepared for him.

That chair sat in the center of the hall, directly facing the three chief officials and Yuan Zhengqing.

Traditionally, the accused would either stand or kneel.

But today, a chair had been provided.

Whether to sit or not was an attitude.

Whether they placed the chair there or not was a stance.

Gu Chengyin stopped in front of the chair but didn't sit down immediately.

He looked up at Yuan Zhengqing on the dais, clasped his hands, and said clearly:

"Grand Secretary Yuan, I have arrived."

His voice was neither loud nor soft, neither servile nor arrogant—as if greeting an elder.

Simple and direct, with no unnecessary words.

After speaking, Gu Chengyin sat down without hesitation.

The hall fell silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The officials seated on both sides looked at one another, a mix of complex emotions flickering in their eyes.

Surprise, displeasure, admiration, wariness.

But no one dared to speak, and no one dared to reprimand him.

Because Gu Chengyin sat too naturally.

So naturally that it felt like he belonged there, so naturally that the chair seemed made for him.

This calm was not feigned; it was a confidence that radiated from the very core of his being.

And what unsettled them even more was the figure standing behind him—Lin Qingyan, as loyal as a devoted bodyguard.

Among the dozens of officials in the hall, only a handful recognized her.

Once they confirmed that she was the Jingzhe Fairy from the Celestial Master Mansion, they immediately averted their eyes, not daring to even look again.

As for the rest, they could only feel an elusive chill.

Like the winter wind, seeping through every crack, sending a shiver down one's spine.

Yuan Zhengqing's gaze lingered on Gu Chengyin for a moment, then shifted to Lin Qingyan behind him.

His brow twitched slightly, but he said nothing. He simply nodded:

"Good that you've come."

When his voice fell, the hall fell silent again.

The officials flanking the hall sat with their eyes fixed on their noses and their noses pointed at their hearts.

Like meditating monks, as if oblivious to the world around them.

Their postures were impeccably correct, their expressions perfectly feigned—but if you looked closely,

you could see their ears pricked up, their sideways glances sneaking peeks at the center of the hall.

Not because they didn't want to get involved, but because they dared not.

When deities clash, mortals simply enjoy the spectacle.