When Lu Qian left the palace, two large carriages followed behind him.
The axles of the four-wheeled carriages creaked loudly under the weight.
Inside the enclosed compartments were the Three Martial Stone Tablets that guarded the Jingyang Lu clan, as well as the “Wrath of the Dharma Fire King” Buddha carving from the lineage of the Duke of Ye.
As they passed through the South Gate of the Imperial City, on the plaza in front of the gate, three thousand fully armored Yulin troops were quietly lined up, each mounted on fierce, blood-hoofed black steeds.
These were the personal guards assigned to Lu Qian by Yin Yuan from the Yulin army.
Lu Qian had never expected that Yin Yuan would equip all three thousand personal guards with the blood-hoofed black steeds.
Ahead of these three thousand guards, thirty-six divine warriors wearing gleaming armor stood with dignity.
Each held a command token; one held a nine-curved green gauze parasol; others carried large banners, golden knives, silver swords, and various ceremonial insignia.
They all stared proudly and resolutely at Lu Qian.
Lu Qian looked at them, raised his right hand, formed a fist, and lightly tapped his chest.
The 3,036 elite troops saluted him in unison.
Nearby, a faint sound like metal clashing rang out: “Brother Qian, Lord Tianyang, you look so mighty and imposing!”
Lu Qian glanced over and saw Lu Hai standing with his hands behind his back near the formation of three thousand wolf riders.
It was obvious from his expression that he had been waiting here for Lu Qian all this time.
Lu Qian dismounted swiftly and strode over to Lu Hai, clasping his fists in salute: “Uncle.”
Surveying Lu Hai from head to toe, Lu Qian was shocked.
In his memory, Lu Hai was about eight feet tall, a bit shorter than himself.
But after years stationed in the Northern Border City, Lu Hai had grown to about ten feet, like a massive iron tower standing before him.
His aura was far more powerful than when he left the Marquis of Tian’en’s estate years ago.
Lu Hai also looked Lu Qian over carefully.
“Unexpected,” Lu Hai said slowly. “I had already prepared a bridal gift for you. I was planning that once you turn sixteen this year and fulfill your marriage contract with the Bai family, you’d have a grand wedding. But it seems that won’t be necessary.”
“I also prepared military registration for you. After your wedding, when the Bai family girl is with child, I would take you to Northern Border City to build a future in the army. You’ll be promoted gradually—you won’t be any less than the Yulin Middle Officer.”
“All the grievances and kindnesses that Brother Xiu and Brother Can showed me back then, I’ll repay all of them through you.”
“Just didn’t expect this,” Lu Hai clapped Lu Qian lightly on the shoulder. “Lord Tianyang? Scared me half to death.”
“I was almost devoured by a wolf pack once, risking my life to win merit by saving the emperor. And you? You managed this all so smoothly and cleverly.”
Lu Qian smiled humbly. “Just lucky.”
Lu Hai nodded seriously. “Indeed lucky. But relying only on luck won’t get you far.”
“What’s your plan from now on?” Lu Hai asked meaningfully. “Are you going to focus only on being Lord Tianyang, living in glory and wealth, feeding on fine clothes and rich food, with beautiful wives and concubines, handsome attendants, indulging in the highest honors of the world, and waiting to turn into a heap of bones a hundred years from now?”
Lu Hai chuckled and shook his head. “I know the Son of Heaven has arranged things for you, just as was arranged for me back then.”
“But, Brother Qian, you should aim higher.”
Lu Hai looked deep into Lu Qian’s eyes and smiled. “Don’t be a frog at the bottom of a well!”
Lu Qian returned the smile. “Uncle, how do you teach me?”
Lu Hai was silent for a moment.
Then he stepped forward so close that he nearly pressed against Lu Qian, leaning close to his ear with his voice reduced to a fine thread: “Do you wish for immortality?”
A strange chill shot from Lu Qian’s crown down to the soles of his feet.
His body’s hair stood on end, staring at Lu Hai in shock.
In this era, martial cultivation had declined; the highest experts in Sutra-Opening Sphere rarely lived beyond one hundred and fifty years.
Where did Lu Hai find the confidence to ask such a thing as “do you wish for immortality?”
Lu Qian closed his mouth, held his breath, and stared straight at Lu Hai.
Lu Hai patted Lu Qian’s shoulder and whispered low, “Haijing has become quite chaotic recently. The Nine Yin Sect, assassins willing to die, evil spirits, ghosts—it’s all very disorderly. But this is only the beginning. In the future, this city of Haijing will be even more lively.”
“Of course, also more dangerous.”
“As my nephew, I will look out for you as best I can.”
“Be careful when you go out from now on. If you’re interested in what I just said, come find me at the Marquis’s estate.”
“This time I return to Haijing, I probably won’t be going back to Northern Border City. I’m your uncle, you are my nephew; both descendants of the Jingyang Lu clan, and close ministers to the Son of Heaven. We must naturally share the same breath and stand together through thick and thin.”
Lu Hai nodded, turned, and leapt onto his wolf king.
With a sharp command, the three thousand wolf riders surrounded him and raced off in a flash along the thoroughfare, heading east towards Anle District.
“Do you wish for immortality?” Lu Qian looked after the departing group and suddenly laughed. “Looks like my guesses during the secret historical archives were right—this world is about to change.”
“Haijing is going to be chaotic? No way! These recent messy affairs—are they related to you? My honored uncle!”
Lu Qian grinned, mounted his steed, called to his new subordinates, and the three thousand personal guards and thirty-six Divine Martial Generals’ ceremonial units all mounted and followed him.
They galloped southward in a straight line along the wide path outside the southern gate.
Far away, when Lu Qian and Lu Hai had disappeared beyond the horizon, atop the city gate tower above the South Gate of the Imperial City, Yin Yuan and Yu Changle emerged from inside, smiling as they watched Lu Qian’s retreating procession.
“Have we verified it? That big fire at the Bai family’s place?” Yin Yuan smiled knowingly.
“Your Majesty, we spent two days thoroughly investigating. It’s confirmed: no one knows how the fire started, but it spread instantly through the entire Lantian Garden… Aside from Lord Tianyang’s uncanny agility, I can’t imagine anyone else in Haijing who could’ve pulled this off,” Yu Changle said, smiling brightly.
“Let’s credit Lord Tianyang with this merit. In a few days, go see him and tell him some things should be done persistently, seriously, and unrelentingly—like a great cause for the country and people,” Yin Yuan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a pity we couldn’t be there to witness those Bai family gentlemen running around in their bare powder puffs.”
In the biting cold wind, Yin Yuan and Yu Changle laughed so hard their mouths wouldn’t close.
Heading south, ahead by the fork in the road, turning west led to the Yunhe stone bridge into Yushun District.
At the bridge’s foot, atop a nine-story tavern, Zhu sat in a wheelchair, one hand in a splint and bandage, holding a cup of tea with the other, watching the busy street below.
“Senior Brother, don’t be anxious. Lu Qian’s roots in Haijing are shallow. Once he leaves the palace, the only place he can return to is his so-called Survey Office. If we guard here, we’re sure to catch him,” Zhu said hoarsely, coughing lightly.
The ribs broken by Xiong Taitou’s punch the previous night still ached faintly.
He bit back the pain and looked at the pale middle-aged man before him, smiling wryly: “But he is, after all, the newly titled Lord Tianyang by His Majesty. Though he’s a sycophant, the title still stands. Senior Brother, you must exercise some restraint.”
Zhu was helpless.
He shouldn’t have been at the Chancellor’s residence the previous night.
The man before him—Wu Shui—was from the Eastern Divine Continent’s Hao Sword Palace and served as Qi Shen’s head of guards.
As mentioned before, Zhu had a brilliant aptitude in martial arts, and learned the secret Hao Sword’s “Nourishing My Sword” technique from a great sword master wandering Haijing.
Wu Shui’s master was Zhu’s uncle, so the two were fellow apprentices from the same school.
Qi Shen was taken by the Imperial Guard Bureau; Wu Shui thought it would be a simple “cooperative investigation.” With his status as the son of the Eastern Qi Earl, there was no one in Haijing who could defy him unless the Empress Dowager intervened.
But Qi Shen was used as “bait” in the Empress Dowager’s “Ghost Catching” scheme and thrown into the “Xianyu Pavilion.”
Wu Shui was anxious.
His clan served the Eastern Qi Earl for generations.
Tasked with protecting Qi Shen, if anything happened to Qi Shen, Wu Shui wouldn’t bear the consequences, and neither would his clan face the Earl’s wrath.
So Wu Shui hurried to seek Zhu’s help, appealing to Zhu’s senior brother connection, begging Zhu to contact Chancellor Zhu Chong to rescue Qi Shen from the capital.
But things turned out worse.
Qi Shen was dead, and not even a body was found.
Early that morning, the Imperial Guard returned only a single urn of cremated ashes to Qifang Garden.
This left Wu Shui with no way to explain to the Eastern Qi Earl.
His wife and children were all in the Earl’s territory; he couldn’t simply abandon them and flee.
He needed an explanation.
Not to provoke the Empress Dowager.
Not to provoke the Son of Heaven.
Not to offend the Le Wu.
Not to challenge Yu Sandou or Yu Changle—he couldn’t win against them.
So he consulted Zhu for a strategy, only to receive a surprisingly eager response.
Sitting beside Zhu, Zhu Yu waved a small folding fan and chuckled, “What nonsense? Brother Wu, you must give the Eastern Qi Earl an explanation for the death of his heir.”
“But the explanation must be substantial.”
“Brother Wu could kill a few guards of the Imperial Guard Bureau—watchmen, enforcers, even captains—with ease. But would those people carry enough weight? Would the Earl be satisfied? Would he think Brother Wu is just brushing him off?”
“Think carefully. Who is a better target than Lu Qian?”
“The newly minted ‘Duke’—if we talk about ranks, frankly, he’s two grades higher than the Eastern Qi Earl. Using a ‘Duke’ as a sacrifice for the heir, that weight and sincerity will satisfy the Earl.”
“As for consequences, he is after all a newly made ‘Duke’ with weak roots, no power, no backing—he only got his title through the Son of Heaven’s favor, a trifling lowlife. If he dies, who will back him up? Who will avenge him?”
“The Emperor? We all know His Majesty’s temper; he won’t meddle in matters outside the Nine-Curved Garden.”
“The Jingyang Lu clan? Ha! The Earl treats him like an enemy. Would he help?”
“The Lady of the Tian’en Marquisate? Would she?”
Waving the fan lightly, Zhu Yu’s gaze was sly as he looked at the pale and lifeless Wu Shui. “Rest assured, Brother Wu. I say, even if you kill Lu Qian openly, as long as you leave Haijing promptly, you will definitely be safe.”
“Who else would offend the Eastern Qi Earl, whose fiefdom stretches tens of thousands of miles, commanding millions of troops, just for Lu Qian?”
Zhu pressed his lips tight, glanced at Zhu Yu, and said nothing more.
They were close cousins.
If Zhu Yu insisted on using Wu Shui as the blade to kill Lu Qian, Zhu wouldn’t sabotage him.
Whether Wu Shui could kill Lu Qian or what would happen after wasn’t something Zhu would discuss.
He sipped his fragrant tea and remained silent.
At the head of the charge, Lu Qian led, followed by the ceremonial units and three thousand personal guards.
A squadron of blood-hoofed black steeds thundered down the wide thoroughfare in a thrilling display.
Just as the horsemen were about to rush onto the stone bridge, atop the highest floor of the tavern by the bridge, Wu Shui let out a long howl.
He transformed into a white shadow, smashed through a window, and in midair unleashed a flash of cold light, like a falling star, aiming straight for Lu Qian’s crown.
The sword strike was fierce and merciless.
Wu Shui concentrated all his energy, aiming to kill Lu Qian with one blow, to give his lord an explanation.
The chilling blade sliced through the air.
Lu Qian instinctively raised his right hand and lightly waved it.
At his chest’s Dan Zhong acupuncture point, a spark of Guixu Immortal Yuan burst forth with boundless black light, instantly filling his body.
Using Guixu Immortal Yuan, Lu Qian unleashed his Overwhelming Torrent Palm technique, a terrifying force hundreds of times more powerful than before, with swirling dark energy surged out.
With a thunderous explosion, the long sword in Wu Shui’s hand shattered into countless iron fragments that scattered in the wind.
(End of chapter)