Chapter 354: The Traitor in Zhao Qian's Residence and the Cards He Holds

"A traitor really emerged in the old Pillar of State Zhao's residence?!"

When Yang Qin heard Chen Yan give a confirming answer, it was as if a bucket of ice water was poured over his head, chilling him from head to toe, and even his breathing became a little labored.

In the Pillar of State's residence, there are no blood relatives, only old servants and Private Soldiers who have followed for decades—how could there be a traitor hidden among them?

Yet Yan Zhi Tui's limp form on the ground is still before my eyes; if no one had set a trap inside the mansion, how could the Mingjing Department have timed it so precisely?

"Who could have poisoned the wine for Chen Yan?!"

Yan Zhi Tui lay on the ground, and hearing the word "traitor," his whole body seemed to shrink as if scorched by those two characters, and he exclaimed in surprise.

Soft Sinew Powder makes even lifting his eyelids a struggle, yet the doubts in his heart grow like wild vines, tightening his internal organs.

Anyone who could reach into that wine would not be simple at all on the Pillar of State's estate…

Zhao Qian slammed his gaunt hand onto the armrest of the chair beside him, the thin palm producing a dull thud on the carved wood; the Dark Hawk in his eyes turned into a raging fire, and his voice, like ice shards forced from his teeth, said, "Which treacherous scoundrel is it…"

Before he could finish, a young Gongzi dressed in a lake‑blue Brothel stepped in slowly, tall and handsome, bearing a five‑ or six‑part resemblance to Zhao Qian…

A thin layer of snow rested on his shoulders; as he entered, he brushed it off lightly, his composed movement at odds with the tense atmosphere.

His gaze swept over Yan Zhi Tui lying on the ground, passed the iron‑blue face of Zhao Qian, and finally rested on Chen Yan, where he bowed slightly in a salute.

Then he turned, slowly bowing to Zhao Qian and the others; his etiquette was flawless, his eyes lowered, his tone perfectly respectful: "Grandson Xingjian, I have seen you, grandfather!"

Turning to Yang Qin, Yan Zhi Tui and the others, he nodded in turn: "I have seen you, uncle!"

Each address was clear and precise, yet in those smiling eyes there was no trace of reverence toward elders.

Instead, like inventorying goods, he calmly scanned each shocked face.

"Xing… Xingjian?!"

"How could it be you?!"

Zhao Qian stared at the familiar face before him, feeling his blood surge to the top of his head, then instantly freeze into ice.

His chest's rapid rise halted abruptly, and he even forgot his hurried breathing.

All that remained was a hoarse gulping sound in his throat, as if his neck were being strangled.

In that brief moment, Zhao Qian suspected many, but he had never doubted this illegitimate eldest grandson…

In his memory, this grandson had always been respectful and gentle!

In his recollection, Zhao Xingjian always wore a faded blue cloth robe, spoke in a soft voice, and his hands trembled when handing tea.

He would bow to any steward in the mansion, and even his tone toward servants carried a hint of caution.

But the man before him, with dark cloud patterns embroidered on his lake‑blue Brothel and a fine jade belt at his waist, showed no trace of the former deference in his gestures.

That earlier "grandfather" sounded respectful, yet he didn't even lift an eyelid; the calm in his eyes chilled him more than Chen Yan's mockery.

"The poisoner is the elder brother's grandson?!"

"Or the illegitimate eldest grandson Zhao Xingjian?!"

"How did Chen Yan bribe him?!"

Yan Zhi Tui lay on the ground, hearing Zhao Xingjian's deferential yet icy "grandfather" and "uncle", his whole body felt as if those four words had nailed him to the Blue Bricks.

He strained to turn his neck, his gaze meeting Zhao Xingjian's smiling eyes, and felt a buzzing in his head as if struck by a heavy hammer.

He felt utterly incomprehensible.

This is far beyond imagination, isn't it?

Yan Zhi Tui originally thought he was a servant; who could have imagined he was the elder brother's illegitimate eldest grandson?

A chill surged from the soles of his feet straight to the Heavenly Spirit Cover, making his whole body stiffer than after taking Soft Sinew Powder.

"Zhao Xingjian has defected to Chen Yan?!"

Yang Qin was equally shocked, brows knit, exclaiming, "How could this be possible?!"

On one side is close blood kin, on the other an outsider, even a family nemesis…

In his life, Yang Qin had seen commanders betray their lords and strategists sell out friends, but never imagined the deadliest blow would come from within his own bloodline.

This is nothing short of a fairy‑tale!

It is more absurd than Chen Yan's death‑and‑rebirth!

"Of course it's the grandson!"

Xingjian's gaze fell on Zhao Qian's shocked face; the smile at his lips faded slightly, while his eyes spread a bottomless darkness like a frozen pond accumulated over years.

He slowly rose, the hem of his lake‑blue Brothel swaying gently, his voice calm without a ripple: "It could only be the grandson!"

Who else could be responsible besides him?

It can't be Zhao Qingshi or Tishou, who would spare no expense to rescue them, right?

Zhao Qian stared at Zhao Xingjian's almost cold, tranquil face; the shock, anger, and disbelief piled in his chest finally burst from his throat as a hoarse roar: "Why!"

His voice cracked, like a rag torn by a gale, his cloudy old eyes bloodshot, fixed on the grandson before him, "Xingjian, tell this old man why!"

"What exactly did Chen Yan promise you, that you could erase filial bonds, betray your grandfather, betray the family that raised you, and invite wolves in…"

With each word, his chest heaved violently, the ribs beneath the Brothel clearly visible, as if they might burst through his flesh at any moment.

Zhao Qian could not understand, truly could not understand…

Such a sincere child, how could he harbor such a treacherous heart?

Could the bond of shared blood possibly be false?

Could the years of nurturing become nothing but donkey liver and lung fed to dogs?

"Why?"

Zhao Xingjian listened to Zhao Qian's hoarse questioning, murmured the repeat, then suddenly let out a low laugh, its tone laced with heavy sarcasm, like ice beads striking a Shiban, crisp and shrill.

He tilted his head slightly, the collar of his lake‑blue Brothel opening a slit, revealing a moon‑white inner shirt, which made his handsome face appear even cooler and more ethereal.

"Grandfather, grandfather, why don't you ask yourself?" he raised an eyebrow in reply, dragging the final syllable, as if savoring the question, "Ask yourself what you have done?"

Zhao Qian's chest ached sharply at Zhao Xingjian's words; he thrust his hand up to his heart, his knuckles sinking into the folds of the Brothel, and a angry low growl rose from his throat: "I ask myself, I have not wronged you in any way, you disloyal, unfilial wretch!"

He said, pounding his own chest forcefully.

Each thump made his gaunt chest heave violently, and his voice grew hoarser from the breathlessness.

Isn't he already good enough to this wretched obstacle?

We've already let him handle the household affairs, yet we still cultivate him as the left‑hand and right‑hand of the legitimate grandson!

We hope he becomes the pillar of the Duke of Chu's State Duke Mansion in the future!

"Hahaha!"

Zhao Xingjian suddenly threw his head back and laughed, his laughter echoing through the spacious hall, shaking the candle flames into a crackle, and even the window panes seemed to tremble with it.

He laughed head over heels, the lake‑blue Brothel's hem sweeping over the broken porcelain on the floor, producing a tinkling clatter, yet his eyes held no mirth, only a fire‑tempered resolve.

"Good, very good!" Each "good" burst from his lungs, carrying a rapturous pleasure.

When the laughter faded, he abruptly halted, his mocking smile as sharp as a blade: "The grandson only knows that pledging allegiance to Lord Chen was indeed the most correct decision!"

Before entering, Zhao Xingjian hesitated a bit, wondering whether this action would ultimately make him regret it......

But now?

A grandfather like this, a family like this, are not worth his past efforts or a moment's hesitation!

They are only fit to be chips used to barter for a future!

Chen Yan leaned against a column inside, twirling the jade pendant on his waist with his fingertips. When Zhao Xingjian's words fell silent, he slowly rose, lightly clapped his hands, the applause sounding oddly abrupt in the silent hall, accompanied by a playful smile: "Grandfather's kindness, grandson's filial piety!"

The dark robe's hidden pattern flowed under the candlelight, watching with keen interest the face twisted by anger and despair, its eyes teasing like a thin layer of ice: "Old Pillar of State, do you think this drama is splendid?"

Such a performance is always especially captivating.

After all, it's the Old Pillar of State's own cause, now tasting the fruit of his sowing.....

Zhao Qian's chest heaved violently, he snapped his gaze upward, his cloudy old eyes flashing a terrifying ferocity, staring intently at Chen Yan as if to devour and strip the smiling face: "Chen Yan, don't get too smug!"

"If I could kill you the first time, I can kill you the second!" He squeezed the words from between his teeth, his hoarse voice like a cracked gong.

In the next instant, he trembled, raised his hand, and fished a uniformly yellowed bone whistle from his chest—

The whistle's body was riddled with fine cracks, as if polished from aged beast bone, emitting an eerie glow in the candlelight.

"Swoosh—"

A sharp, piercing whistle suddenly sliced the hall's dead silence, like a wailing ghost, stabbing the eardrums.

Yan Zhi Tui lay on the ground, feeling the whistle's vibration throb his brain, his limbs' soreness and weakness roiling as if stirred by the sound.

"Oh?"

Chen Yan did not intervene, simply clasping his hands to his chest, smiling calmly, and said evenly: "Then Lord Chen will watch with anticipation!"

Before the whistle faded, three muffled gusts of wind burst from outside the hall!

"Bang!"

The window panes were shattered from the outside, wood chips scattering, and three dark silhouettes darted into the hall like Guimo.

The gust generated on impact nearly blew out the candle flames.

The leading figure was towering, his hand bones thick, palms covered with old calluses, the famed Iron Palm Flying Dragon Zheng Yi.

Flanking him were the Jade‑faced Asura Gao Guiyan and the Night‑wandering Divine Lord Yan Zixian......

After landing, the three formed a triangular stance, their gazes fixed on Chen Yan, exuding intense killing intent, confronting the embroidered‑clad envoy in the corridor.

Zhao Qian stared at the three sudden masters, a feral grin finally breaking his tense face; he clenched the bone whistle tightly, his knuckles whitening: "Behead Chen Yan!"

Lying limp on the ground, Yan Zhi Tui's eyes suddenly lit up; the strength drained by Soft Sinew Powder seemed ignited by this sudden hope: "Big brother still has a trump card?!"

"Could these be the three among the top ten martial heroes of the jianghu.....?!"

He stared fixedly at the three black silhouettes, as if seeing hope to overturn the heavens.

The soreness from Soft Sinew Powder still spread through his limbs, yet the ecstatic joy in his heart burned like raging fire, and even his gaze toward Chen Yan gained a few shades of bitter, poisonous anticipation......

When these three masters finish dealing with that Chen bastard, he will personally tear the face of that little scoundrel Zhao Xingjian, making him taste the consequence of betrayal!

"So it's these three!"

Chen Yan's gaze drifted casually over the three black silhouettes; a low chuckle escaped his throat, and turning back to Zhao Qian, he asked: "Is this the Old Pillar of State Zhao's final reliance?"

Zhao Qian sneered repeatedly: "Chen Yan, you're celebrating far too early....."

But before the words fell, a sudden anomaly erupted.

The three shadows that should have lunged at Chen Yan abruptly halted in unison.

Zheng Yi withdrew his massive palm that had been poised to strike, Gao Guiyan slowly released his hand from the axe‑handle, and Yan Zixian lowered the Dark Hawk's eyes.

Then, the three knelt together, their movements perfectly synchronized, exuding unparalleled reverence; their hoarse voices still conveyed submission: "We, your Lord‑Supervisor, present ourselves!"

——

PS: Thanks to the great endorsement of the master Lu Renjie of Huayang Island, two chapters are offered as one!

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