The next morning, the citizens of the Heavenly Capital woke up to a shock.
The Capital Morning Post had changed.
At the very top, next to the title, was a red stamp. The official, imperial seal of the Six Fan Gate.
"Look at this!" A merchant shouted in the market square. "It's official! The government is backing the paper!"
"Does that mean the story about the White-Haired Maiden is true?" an old woman asked, confused.
"It must be! The Chief Constable approved it!"
But the biggest shock was the new section on the front page: THE EMPIRE'S MOST WANTED.
Portraits of three notorious bandits were printed in high contrast. Below them, the bounty was listed in bold numbers.
"Iron-Fist Zhao. Wanted for murder. Reward: 500 Taels."
Suddenly, everyone in the market was looking at their neighbors. Suspicion and excitement filled the air. The newspaper wasn't just entertainment anymore; it was a treasure map.
Inside the Hundred Flowers Manor, the mood was ecstatic.
"We are untouchable," Yue Xiaochan cheered, holding the paper like a trophy. "The Six Fan Gate is basically our bodyguard now. No one dares to tear down our posters."
Xue Qingqiu stood by the window, watching the city. She turned to Xue Mu, her expression complex.
"You sold the Six Fan Gate a tool to control the populace," she said. "And in doing so, you made us essential to the State."
"Symbiosis," Xue Mu said, relaxing in his chair. "They get order. We get influence. And the people get a story."
"You play a dangerous game, Xue Mu," she warned. "Xiahou Di is not a fool. She will use this tool against us the moment we step out of line."
"Then we make sure we never step out of line," Xue Mu replied. "Or better yet... we make sure we draw the line."
He looked at his hand. The cyan tattoo was quiet.
He had survived the first wave. He had established a foothold. He had the money (the brothel), the talent (the Idol), and the voice (the Newspaper).
"What's next?" Yue Xiaochan asked, sitting on his desk. "More stories? More songs?"
"No," Xue Mu said, his eyes darkening. "We have the audience. Now, we need the industry."
"Industry?"
"Music, books, theater... it's all fragmented," Xue Mu said, clenching his fist. "I'm going to consolidate it. I'm going to build a league. An entertainment empire that spans the entire dynasty."
He looked at the little demoness.
"But first... we need to deal with the competition. The Dream Cloud Pavilion won't take this lying down."
As if on cue, a loud explosion rocked the street outside.
Xue Mu rushed to the window. Across the street, the newly built distribution stand for the newspaper was in flames.
Disciples of a rival sect stood there, swords drawn, sneering at the Star-Moon guards.
"War," Xue Mu whispered, a cold smile forming on his lips. "Finally. I was getting bored with just writing."