The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

The next morning, Zhou Xing went to pay his respects to the Empress as usual.

The Empress lived in the Phoenix Palace, which was separated from his side hall by several palace walls.

He walked along the passageway with his short legs, followed by Chunlan. Along the way, they encountered several groups of palace maids and eunuchs, all of whom greeted him politely before going about their business.

Politeness is the rule, indifference is the reality; no one will give this helpless Ninth Prince a second glance.

Zhou Xing didn't mind at all; in fact, he thought it was quite good.

He obediently kowtowed before the Empress, recited a few lines of the Three Character Classic, received two pieces of pastry, and then quietly withdrew.

The Empress neither treated him well nor badly. After all, there were so many princes; one more or one less wouldn't make a difference.

After dealing with him routinely, I sent him away.

After leaving Fengyi Palace, Zhou Xing did not go directly back to the side hall, but instead turned a corner and headed towards the Imperial Garden.

He walked slowly, looking around as if admiring the flowers and plants in the garden.

Chunlan followed behind without giving it much thought; a six-year-old child likes to stroll in the garden, that's perfectly normal.

In the northwest corner of the Imperial Garden, there is an artificial hill with craggy rocks and pine and cypress trees, which is rarely visited.

Behind the artificial hill is a palace wall, and beyond the wall lies the world outside the palace.

Of course, the palace walls were three zhang high, so even adult guards, let alone a six-year-old child, couldn't climb them.

But Zhou Xing didn't come here today to climb the wall; he came to "bump into" someone.

According to the system's arrangements, the leader of the Beggars' Sect's founding team, that old beggar of the third rank, will be brought into the palace today by people from the Imperial Household Department.

It wasn't for any special reason, but rather because the palace would periodically recruit a group of laborers from outside to do rough and heavy work, such as repairing palace walls, clearing silt from ponds, and moving large objects.

These laborers were usually recruited temporarily from beggars and vagrants in the capital. They were given a few copper coins after finishing their work and were sent away without even being issued an imperial warrant.

Among the laborers recruited this time was that old beggar of the third rank.

Zhou walked to the edge of the artificial hill, found a stone bench, sat down, and swung his short legs, pretending to watch ants moving house.

Not long after, a group of people came from the other end of the passageway. Seven or eight ragged beggars, led by a palace attendant, carried shovels and bamboo baskets on their shoulders and walked towards this side with their heads down and backs bent.

They went to clean up the silt in the lotus pond behind the artificial hill.

The head eunuch was taken aback when he saw the Ninth Prince sitting by the roadside. He quickly bowed and greeted him, "Greetings, Your Highness."

The group of beggars also bowed and saluted, shouting incoherently, "Greetings to Your Highness."

Zhou Xing raised his head and scanned their faces one by one.

His eyes were innocent and naive, like those of a curious child looking at something new, but his gaze lingered for a moment when it swept over an old beggar at the end of the line.

He was an old man in his sixties, with white hair and beard, a face full of wrinkles, wearing a tattered cotton-padded jacket with dozens of patches, hunched over, carrying a worn-out shovel.

He looked no different from any other beggar, perhaps even more destitute.

But the moment Zhou Xing's gaze met his, a sharp glint flashed in the old man's eyes. It wasn't the look of a down-on-his-luck beggar; it was the sharpness and composure of a martial artist.

It happened in a split second, and then it vanished immediately.

The old man lowered his head even further, and together with the other beggars, he followed the eunuch leading the way obsequiously, continuing to walk forward along the passageway.

Zhou Xing withdrew his gaze and continued to watch the ants, dangling his short legs.

But his heart suddenly started beating faster at that moment.

found it.

That night, when all was quiet, Zhou Xing once again dismissed Chunlan and Qiuju.

He lay on the bed pretending to be asleep. After it became completely quiet outside, he sat up, walked barefoot to the window, and gently pushed it open a crack to look out.

The moon was large, and its light illuminated the courtyard, casting deep shadows on the artificial rocks.

His heart was beating a little fast.

Tonight, right tonight, according to the identity arrangement implanted by the system, that old beggar, the leader of the Beggars' Sect's founding team, will be arranged to spend the night in the shed at the foot of the palace wall after cleaning the lotus pond.

The workshop wasn't far from the Ninth Prince's side palace, separated by two palace walls and a bamboo grove, but for a third-rank martial artist, this distance was nothing.

More importantly, the system has a default rule when summoning the supergroup: the supergroup members carry memories of their past lives and are absolutely loyal to the host.

This means that Zhou Xing doesn't need to contact them himself; they will come to him on their own.

Just as Zhao Gao and his associates would try to make contact with him, this old beggar would also try to meet him.

Zhou Xing sat cross-legged by the window, waiting quietly.

After an unknown amount of time, the moonlight in the courtyard suddenly dimmed for a moment. It wasn't that the moon was obscured by clouds, but rather that someone moved at an extremely fast speed through the shadows between the artificial hill and the bamboo grove. The speed was so fast that the wind pressure they created extinguished the flame of a palace lantern at the base of the wall.

Zhou Xing's pupils contracted slightly. The next second, a very soft thud came from outside the window, like a withered leaf falling on a stone slab.

An old face covered in wrinkles appeared outside the window.

"Lu Changfeng greets Your Highness."

His voice was hoarse and deep, yet steady and resonant, like an old knife that had rusted but was still sharp.

The old man knelt on one knee outside the window, head bowed, the moonlight illuminating his full head of white hair and the patches on his shoulders.

He knelt there, his back ramrod straight, his imposing presence creating an absurd contrast with the tattered cotton-padded coat he wore.

Zhou Xing looked at him, his little face showing no surprise or fear.

He gently pushed open the window and uttered a sentence in a childish voice that was completely incongruous with his age.

"No need for formalities. Stand up and speak."

Lu Changfeng looked up at the six-year-old child inside the window.

Under the moonlight, those round, almond-shaped eyes reflected the cool moonlight, making them look less like a child and more like a deep, ancient well.

His memory clearly told him that the six-year-old child in front of him was the person he would serve for the rest of his life, without reason or choice, but a sense of peace inexplicably rose in his heart.

"Your Highness," he lowered his voice, "my subordinates and nineteen brothers are in position. We are currently staying at a dilapidated temple in the west of the city, and we usually disperse in various streets and alleys, using begging and working as cover."

"I'll be familiar with the capital soon enough. I'm taking advantage of the palace's recruitment of laborers to familiarize myself with the place. Please give me your instructions on how to proceed."

Zhou Xing sat on the windowsill, his short legs dangling in mid-air, and asked casually, as if chatting with an old neighbor, "What level has your cultivation reached?"

"Third rank." Lu Changfeng answered crisply, "I practice the family's Wild Bull Strength, a third-rate technique. Reaching the third rank was a life-or-death experience. My brothers are all second-rank, and the rest are not even in the ranks. Their techniques are all third-rate and not worth mentioning."

Zhou Xing nodded and pondered for a moment.

A person who cultivates a third-rate technique to the third rank has a much more solid foundation than those so-called geniuses who use first-rate techniques to achieve their level.

Their ceiling may not be high, but in the same level, their practical experience and resilience are absolutely top-notch.

"A third-rank official might not be enough in the palace, but outside the palace, on the ground in the capital, it's barely sufficient." Zhou Xing's voice was soft, yet it carried a composure and calmness that didn't belong to a six-year-old child. "My first order to you is not to fight, not to kill, but to lay a net."

"Lay down a net?" Lu Changfeng's eyebrows twitched slightly, then he nodded. "Please instruct me, Your Highness, how should this net be laid?"

How many streets and alleys are there in Beijing?

Lu Changfeng paused for a moment, then mentally estimated: "There are twenty or thirty main roads, and at least a hundred alleys and lanes."

"I need a point of contact in every street and alley. Teahouses, taverns, pawnshops, pharmacies, docks, carriage shops, brothels—every place with people needs our eyes."

Zhou Xing spoke at a measured pace, as if he were setting up a game of chess that had been practiced countless times. "You only have twenty men, which is not enough. So the first step is to develop the periphery. Each brother is responsible for a street and find suitable informants among the most inconspicuous people, such as beggars, laborers, vendors, and teahouse waiters."

"We don't need to let them know who they're working for, we just need to let them know that giving information can earn them money."