Chapter 29

The clash between Xue Jin'an and Lu Bingzhu lasted only a fleeting moment, yet the energy it consumed was nearly equivalent to dozens of exchanges with an assassin. The disparity in their raw combat capabilities was simply too vast.

If one were to liken the assassin to a simple idiom—where analyzing it reveals its source, allusion, and history—then Lu Bingzhu was a classical prose text, containing countless idioms and allusions, like a compressed file.

In that critical moment, to parse this "compressed file" as quickly as possible, calculate the results, and force his body to react, Xue Jin'an had pushed his CPU's clock speed to the absolute limit of his current physical vessel. For an instant, he could even feel his body temperature rising.

Consequently, his battery, already in the red, became even more precarious. He was in urgent need of a recharge. The barrage comments he had sent were merely a probing response to the information provided by Li Hechun; as for the outcome... he would find out eventually.

After sending the message, Xue Jin'an shut down the livestream, waved at the two men before him, and turned to head straight for his power bank, completely ignoring the Emperor, who was waiting in focused silence for his next words.

"Hey, wait! The Seventh Prince is moving too fast!" Li Hechun suddenly remembered something and wanted to call out, but he only saw Xue Jin'an’s impatient, retreating back. He tapped his forehead and said, "Master, you forgot to tell him that the Empress Dowager has appointed Chancellor Cui as his mentor."

Lu Bingzhu let out an "Oh," tucked his hands into his sleeves, and gazed at the sky, his tone leisurely. "I’ve been forgetting things lately. I am truly old and useless; no longer able to share the Empress Dowager's burdens. It is time to promote some new talent."

"Lian Po may be old, but he can still don his armor to defend against the enemy. Master, what are you saying?" Li Hechun could hear the subtext in Lu Bingzhu’s words. This wasn't about being unable to serve the Empress Dowager; he was clearly taking a jab at the Emperor.

The Emperor had the Imperial Guard in the open and the Bureau of Garments in the shadows; he had plenty of people to handle tasks. Why would he need Li Hechun to personally invite Lu Bingzhu just to test the Seventh Prince's internal energy? It was merely the Emperor’s way of ensuring Lu Bingzhu didn't wall himself off in the Cining Palace like an old eunuch, using Li Hechun as a bridge to persuade him.

"After all these years, my bones have grown lazy. I’d fall apart if I moved too much. Better not to go through the trouble," Lu Bingzhu refused again, diplomatically.

Li Hechun sighed inwardly and, being wise, ceased the topic. He tugged at his own white hair, pointed to his face, and said with a mournful expression, "Master, look at me. When I stand next to you, people can't even tell who is the master and who is the apprentice."

"That's because you don't practice your martial arts diligently. You deserve it," Lu Bingzhu mocked him mercilessly before waving him away. "Enough, stop being an eyesore. Go back and report."

The Emperor had anticipated the results of both matters. He simply nodded without a word. Sound transmission via internal energy was a feat only masters could achieve. Because the voice sounded juvenile, the Emperor harbored many suspicions toward his princes, believing that the factions behind them were colluding with martial artists to sow confusion.

In truth, once he learned of the hardships the Seventh Prince had endured in the palace over the past two years, his suspicions had waned. Of course, upon discovering how similar the two voices were, he had ordered a test, which—unsurprisingly—confirmed that the Seventh Prince only knew basic external martial arts and possessed not a shred of internal energy.

The Zhou family line was withering, and the Seventh Prince’s only reliance was Zhou Yushu. Zhou Yushu was a man of both literary and martial talent; he had almost no flaws, save for his poor health and slightly eccentric temperament. Had he not been so obsessed with returning to Dianzhou to raise insects, the Emperor would have been quite happy to promote him.

The fact that the Seventh Prince had only Zhou Yushu to rely on, and the misery he had lived through these past two years, happened to prove that Zhou Yushu had not been in the capital.

The Emperor had tested all his sons one by one. Those whose age and voice matched lacked the ability to recruit or command high-level martial artists—such as the Seventh and Eighth Princes. Those who had the capability did not fit the other criteria, such as the Third Prince.

The only one who had the capability and whose age mostly matched was the Ninth Prince. But the Ninth was not yet six, and he was a child the Emperor often kept by his side to tease. Being very familiar with everything about the Ninth, he easily ruled him out.

Therefore, only two possibilities remained: either the person practiced a nefarious technique that allowed them to revert to a childlike state, or they were skilled in ventriloquism and were deliberately disguising their voice to confuse his judgment.

Regardless of which it was, the fact remained that the person was lurking in the palace, watching him—a dangerous, arrogant, and reckless individual.

***

The Emperor, harboring these thoughts, had received the words "Check-in," "Scatter flowers," and "Claw marks"—terms that didn't match his expectations at all.

Humans have a flaw: they love to overthink, especially intelligent people.

The Emperor considered himself a clever man. He was entirely unfamiliar with these three terms and could only guess at their meaning based on the characters. He felt that since the person had come and gone in such a rush, leaving these six characters behind must surely hold deep significance.

The Emperor thought about it while discussing state affairs with the Empress Dowager, while listening to the veiled barbs between his consorts, and while sitting alone at his desk reviewing memorials... until late at night, when he lay in bed and closed his eyes, his mind was filled with nothing but those six characters.

Just before dawn, the Emperor, who had spent most of the night lying with his eyes closed, sat up abruptly with dark circles under his eyes, startling Li Hechun, who had been creeping in. "Y-Your Majesty?"

"Call Jiang Wen to see me." The Emperor ignored him, walked to the desk barefoot, wearing only his bright yellow undergarments.

Li Hechun instructed a young eunuch, then stepped forward with practiced efficiency to spread paper and grind ink.

At this time, it was still half an hour before the morning assembly (five o'clock), but officials were required to wait at the Meridian Gate by the hour of the Tiger. Thus, the young eunuch quickly found Jiang Wen.

The Emperor calling him for a private talk before the morning assembly was clearly unusual. Thinking of the sensational assassination attempts from the day before—which had not only injured two princes but also involved two consorts—Jiang Wen couldn't help but shudder.

When he hurried into the Qianyuan Palace at top speed, the Emperor had just finished writing. Without waiting for the ink to dry, he had Li Hechun hang it on the rafters.

Although Li Hechun didn't understand why the Emperor was writing this early in the morning, he could see the Emperor attached great importance to it. He personally fetched a long pole to hang the scroll, then turned to see a young eunuch sneak into the inner chamber, emerging with a dragon robe draped over a hanger.

"Your Majesty, the weather is cold. Take care of the Imperial health," the young eunuch said solicitously, preparing to help the Emperor dress.

Li Hechun’s expression turned cold. Dressing the Emperor was a task that had always belonged to him. It wasn't that Li Hechun was overbearing; it was that the Emperor had a keen sense of smell. Eunuchs, due to their castration, often carried a faint odor of urine, especially young eunuchs who were not yet adept at hygiene.

Li Hechun had carefully selected the eunuchs who entered the Qianyuan Palace, even providing them with scented sachets to use daily. Even so, the Emperor disliked his garments being touched by others.

Just as Li Hechun was about to step forward to scold the reckless young eunuch, the Emperor merely gave the eunuch, named Little Xiazi, a deep look, raised a hand to stop Li Hechun, and walked behind the screen, spreading his arms.

Little Xiazi followed, ecstatic.

"Why are you staring? The Emperor needs to dress." Li Hechun flicked his whisk at the eunuchs nearby; they snapped out of their stupor and began to move.

Li Hechun wore a smiling face, though no one knew what he was thinking, save for the slight flicking of his whisk.

Jiang Wen arrived at this moment. The atmosphere in the Qianyuan Palace was subtle, but not particularly tense, so he relaxed, knowing that even if there were an issue, it wouldn't be a major one.

He waited tactfully for the Emperor to emerge fully dressed from behind the screen, surprised to see a young eunuch attending to him, while Eunuch Li Hechun stood aside, smiling.

Jiang Wen paused before stepping forward to pay his respects. The Emperor waved his hand, dismissing the formalities, and pointed to the scroll. "Minister Jiang, someone told me these six characters yesterday. What do you think they mean?"

Jiang Wen looked up and saw the bold, flourishing calligraphy on fine, gold-flecked rice paper. The characters "Check-in, Scatter flowers, Claw marks" were written with an imposing, sharp spirit.

"This..." Jiang Wen was completely at a loss, but he knew the Emperor wouldn't show him these characters without a reason. Rather than admitting he didn't understand, he chose to drag a colleague into the fray. "Your humble servant recalls that Minister Chu is quite accomplished in matters of ciphers."

The success of that human trafficking case had been due to Chu Wenjing decoding the secret signals they used for their transactions, allowing them to find the lair and capture them all.

Thus, an incense stick's time later, Chu Wenjing stared at the characters and the Emperor’s absurd request, falling into a long silence: "..."

*I was able to solve the case because I found the codebook they used to set their signals! How am I supposed to figure out six characters plucked out of thin air?!*

Jiang Wen signaled him with his eyes: *It doesn't matter if you can't figure it out—call for backup! As long as more people are stumped, it’s not your failure, but the problem's fault.*

Successfully receiving the signal, Chu Wenjing remained silent for a moment, then, holding the belief that it was better to sacrifice a colleague than oneself, he summoned the heads of the other two judicial departments—the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review and two censors from the Censorate.

The group huddled together, whispering ambiguous theories, then turned and summoned the ministers of the other six ministries...

And so, a group of officials in crimson robes crowded before a scroll, studying it with such solemn intensity that one would think they were solving a world-altering crisis.

*

Since Xue Jin'an had begun following Helian Cheng's fitness channel, he had started morning workouts every few days. Ever since he learned that Helian Cheng gave out money, "every few days" had turned into "every day."

Although military pay was only issued at the end of the month and Xue Jin'an hadn't received any more wages, he had successively received a set of vine armor, a spear, a small crossbow, and a bird whistle...

Xue Jin'an didn't want to wake up early either, but the rewards were just too generous; he had fallen into this routine without realizing it.

However, during his morning workout today, Xue Jin'an used his split-screen function to run both the fitness software and the livestreaming app simultaneously. He wanted to watch the morning assembly.

With the assassination attempt making such a scene yesterday, the morning assembly would surely be lively, and he could take the opportunity to gather information.

Xue Jin'an was quite interested in the operation that had targeted him.

However, when he opened the livestreaming app and refreshed the page, he saw a flood of livestreams with strange camera angles—a paparazzo-style aesthetic that was hard to forget once seen.

Xue Jin'an took one look and realized, as expected, they were all livestreams from the spies of the Bureau of Garments. Come to think of it, this was the first time he had caught their streams during the day.