I run a casino in the immortal realm.

Outside the main hall of the General Affairs Department, there is a long corridor.

Zhou Demao and Yang Jie waited side by side.

The two, one at the peak of Foundation Establishment and the other at the early stage of Foundation Establishment, stood by the pillars, yet they were even more nervous than the eighth-level Qi Refining cultivators inside the hall.

The fact that a Golden Core expert personally summoned a newcomer who had only been practicing for a month couldn't be a bad thing, but they had no idea just how good it was.

The door opened.

Zheng Yifei walked out, his steps neither hurried nor slow.

Zhou Demao and Yang Jie came forward, their eyes simultaneously falling on Zheng Yifei's waist, or more precisely, on the gray-black cloth bag he was carrying in his left hand.

The bag is small, about the size of a palm, and looks like it's made of coarse cloth, but its surface has a faint sheen, and the seams are inlaid with tiny patterns that are almost invisible to the naked eye.

Zhou Demao stopped in his tracks.

"Storage bag?"

Yang Jie's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Throughout the entire Qingyun Sect, only inner disciples are issued storage bags, and even those are the most basic Tier 1 type—the internal space is about three zhang square. If they leave the sect, they have to hand them over.

There are no outer disciples.

There are no independent cultivators.

It's not that I can't afford it, it's that I can't buy it.

The production of storage bags involves spatial arrays, with scarce materials and complex processes. Production is monopolized by the Qingyun Sect's Artifact Peak and supplied only internally.

Even the wealthiest independent cultivators cannot buy it.

As for the one in Zheng Yifei's hand, Zhou Demao recognized it after just one more glance—the depth and speed of its spiritual light far exceeded that of the standard version.

This is a second-tier storage bag.

The interior space is at least ten zhang in diameter, enough to hold the goods of a small warehouse. The entire tax office, including himself, uses only first-tier goods.

The second-tier ones are only possessed by those at the level of hall masters and the six peak masters.

Kim Jong-won's private gift.

Yang Jie took a deep breath and lowered his voice: "Xiao Zheng, the sect leader, he..."

Zheng Yifei tucked the bag into his waistband, took out the silver token from his pocket, and handed it to Zhou Demao with both hands.

"Director, the sect leader has appointed his disciple as the Chief Inspector of the Tax Bureau, with ten inspection teams assigned to him. He will report directly to you from now on."

Zhou Demao took the token and flipped it over. The silver surface was engraved with the five characters "Chief Inspector of the Tax Bureau," and the back had the official seal of the General Affairs Department, which was the seal of a real official who had entered the official register of the sect.

His hand holding the token paused for a moment.

Chief Inspector.

This position was created for the first time since the establishment of the Tax Department.

It's truly unbelievable that an outer disciple at the eighth level of Qi Refining would be in charge.

"besides,"

Zheng Yifei added, "The hall master said that from this day forward, my status will be changed from an outer disciple to an inner disciple."

Yang Jie opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.

Zhou Demao returned the token to Zheng Yifei, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly smiled.

This middle-aged man, who was at the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage, had deep wrinkles when he smiled, and his usually serious face looked somewhat unfamiliar.

"it is good."

There is only one word.

As the three walked out of the main hall, a gray-robed disciple caught up from behind, carrying three scrolls in his hands.

"Director Zhou, Director Yang, please sign for the official appointment letter of the Hall Master."

Zhou Demao and Yang Jie each took a copy, unfolded it, and glanced at it—the appointment letter bore Kim Jong-won's personal seal and the General Affairs Department's official seal; the wording was concise, but the text was clearly written in black and white:

"Zheng Yifei, an inner disciple, is hereby appointed as the Chief Inspector of the Tax Bureau, effective immediately. Tax officials at all levels shall cooperate and shall not shirk their responsibilities."

Zheng Yifei took his share and put it in his pocket.

"Director, Director, are you free at noon? I'd like to invite you to lunch."

Zhou Demao looked up at him.

Yang Jie also looked at him.

"I've been grateful for your care since I joined the company, but I haven't been able to properly reciprocate. Today, the head of the department gave me a small reward, so I'll treat you two to a meal."

Zhou Demao's lips twitched slightly. This kid was young, but very sensible.

"Okay, you pick the place."

Zheng Yifei certainly wouldn't be picky.

"Please recommend someone, Director Yang."

Yang Jie thought for a moment: "Tianxiang Pavilion is the best restaurant in the East District, a place frequented by inner disciples. Today you are an inner disciple, it's time to go and broaden your horizons."

Tianxiang Pavilion is located at the easternmost end of Fengming Street. It is a three-story building with a structure made entirely of spirit wood. Four spirit lanterns hang from the eaves and are lit even during the day, making it quite grand.

Yang Jie was clearly a regular customer; he went straight to the private room on the third floor as soon as he entered.

When the waiter approached, his gaze lingered on the storage bag at Zheng Yifei's waist for a moment, and his attitude immediately improved.

Take your seat.

Zheng Yifei pushed the menu toward Zhou Demao: "Director, please order."

Zhou Demao didn't stand on ceremony and ordered six dishes and a soup, plus two jars of the finest Xuan Guang Ling wine.

Zheng Yifei didn't know the price, but seeing the waiter's brush tremble twice when recording the dishes, he guessed it wasn't cheap.

The food and drinks were served.

After the first bowl of wine, the atmosphere relaxed.

Zheng Yifei didn't beat around the bush.

"Director, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"explain."

Zheng Yifei took off the storage bag and placed it on the table.

"This is something I've never used before. When the hall master bestowed it upon me, he mentioned 'blood recognition,' but how exactly does it work?"

Yang Jie almost choked on the alcohol.

Zhou Demao, however, remained calm and examined the storage bag for a couple of moments.

"Squeeze a drop of blood from your fingertip and drip it onto the array eye at the bag's opening—this groove—after the blood is absorbed by the array pattern, your spiritual consciousness can enter the internal space, and then accessing items will be entirely driven by your will."

He handed the bag back to him.

Zheng Yifei did as instructed. He pricked his index finger, and a drop of blood fell into the array's eye. A flash of inspiration struck him, and the bag's opening became slightly warm.

A space unfolds in consciousness.

The void, roughly ten zhang square, was hazy and gray, like a large warehouse without lights. Inside were ten thousand spirit stones given by the hall master.

He tried to put the wine bowl on the table into it. With a thought, the wine bowl disappeared; with another thought, it reappeared in his palm, without spilling a drop of wine.

"nice one."

Zheng Yifei sincerely praised it.

He used to frequent the Black Mountain Market and the Su Family Market, stuffing all his spirit stones into his pockets and cloth bags. When he went out, he looked like a peddler wandering the streets, his clothes jingling.

The journey from Heishan Market to Qingyun City took more than a month, with three horses carrying spirit stones and dry rations, and the journey was filled with anxiety and trepidation.

The bandits they encountered on the road were all after the bulging luggage they carried.

So storage bags exist in this world, but I've never seen anyone use them.

That makes sense when you think about it. In a place like Black Mountain Market, Foundation Establishment cultivators are extremely rare, and ordinary rogue cultivators have never even heard of a spatial magic treasure, let alone a storage bag.

This small cloth bag is the watershed between different levels in the cultivation world.

Those who possess it are elites of the sect, members of the management team, and cadres with real power.

Without it, a person is nothing but an animal.

With a thought, Zheng Yifei dumped ten thousand spirit stones onto the table. They piled up like a small mountain, their spiritual light illuminating the faces of the three men.

Zhou Demao and Yang Jie subtly shifted their gaze.

They weren't envious of the money the Golden Elixir Hall Master had given them.

"Director, Chief."

Zheng Yifei divided the spirit stones into two piles and pushed them toward Zhou Demao and Yang Jie.

Both of their chopsticks stopped at the same time.

"Let me speak from the bottom of my heart."

Zheng Yifei's voice wasn't loud, but his tone was very steady: "I'm a chief inspector at the eighth level of Qi Refining, and all the inspector team leaders under me are at the Foundation Establishment stage. Why should someone whose cultivation is a whole realm higher than mine be under my command?"

Zhou Demao didn't reply, but his gaze became more focused.

"The leader has given us the token and the title, but the token can only keep us in check for a while, not forever. To truly win the respect of those below, we need solid achievements."

Achieving results requires the full support of the director and the head of the institute.

Zheng Yifei picked up the wine bowl, first toasting Zhou Demao, then Yang Jie.

"These spirit stones are not a bribe, but a pledge of loyalty from your disciple. I am young and will inevitably be impulsive in my actions. I need you two to back me up. If you don't accept them, I will not feel at ease and will not be able to continue as the chief inspector. I will resign from my post immediately."

Yang Jie glanced at Zhou Demao.

Zhou Demao held the wine bowl and remained silent for five breaths.

Then he put down the bowl and pushed the two thousand back.

"Three thousand. I won't accept more, and less shows a lack of sincerity."

Seeing this, Yang Jie also only accepted three thousand.

The three men clinked their bowls together and drank the spirit wine.

Zhou Demao put down his bowl and tapped the edge of the table with his chopsticks.

"Now that you've brought it up, there's something I'd like to make clear to you as well."

His voice dropped by half a octave.

"The position of Chief Inspector is not easy to hold. The invoice system you implemented has affected the interests of many people. It's alright in the East District, as it's mostly small and medium-sized businesses that can't cause much trouble. But if you want to extend it to the other four districts and the entire sect, it will be quite difficult."

He paused for a moment.

"Behind several large shops in the West and North districts stand inner sect elders."

Zheng Yifei put the bowl down.

"For honest people, invoices are nothing; it's just another piece of paper to fill out. What's truly frightening are those who underreport their income and evade taxes for years. When you cut into a business, you're not just cutting into the merchant's flesh, but into the pockets of the people behind them."

Yang Jie added, "Last quarter, a spirit weapon shop in the western district was overcharged by a tax collector by ten spirit stones as late payment fees. As a result, the tax collector was transferred to a mine to move stones for three months the next day."

Zheng Yifei nodded.

He knew this would happen.

This sect is a huge arena of vested interests, and any reform will affect the interests of some people.

This job is tough; it's not as easy as gambling.