Chapter 529: Li Shengchang Who Won

Outside Chang'an City.

Night fog, like a light veil, enveloped the dense forest on the city's outskirts.

The branches in the forest were bare, only a few early plum trees bore remnants of snow; the air was soaked with a damp, cold chill, mingling the scent of earth and dead wood.

A party, cloaked in thick furs, led their horses to a clearing to rest; the hooves shattered the frost covering the ground, leaving marks of varying depth.

Gao Changjing stood beneath an old locust tree, a few specks of broken snow clinging to his shoulder; he brushed them away, his brows showing a hint of impatience.

Having rested a moment, he wanted to give orders, so he cleared his throat and shouted loudly, "Shengchang! Shengchang!"

Cui Yizong hurried forward, his robe hem brushing the dry grass, and said respectfully, "Gongzi (Young Master)."

Gao Changjing's gaze swept the surroundings; tree shadows swayed, and in the thin mist only the silhouettes of his companions were visible—no sign of Li Shengchang could be seen.

He furrowed his brows, his tone adding a touch of displeasure, and said in a deep voice, "Where is that Li Shengchang? I've called for ages and no one answered!"

"Just now I saw him there; how did he vanish in an instant?"

Cui Yizong followed his gaze, looking around; his brows also furrowed slightly, his face full of doubt, and he raised his hand toward a pine tree not far away, where the dried grass bore a pressed imprint and half an unfinished wheat cake lay scattered: "Strange!"

"Shengchang was just resting there; Shuyi, while tidying things, saw him leaning against the trunk wiping sweat—how has he disappeared now?"

Gao Changjing stared at that imprint, his eyes suddenly fixed, as he abruptly realized something; his complexion darkened instantly, and he blurted, "Bad!"

"He must be unwilling to part with that silver, and slipped away back!"

Upon hearing that, Cui Yizong's face also changed.

"That greedy fellow!" he muttered lowly, his tone both urgent and angry.

Having said that, he looked anxiously at Gao Changjing, cupped his hands and said, "Gongzi (Young Master), Shuyi will dispatch people right away to follow his trail and bring him back!"

As soon as the words fell, Gao Changjing abruptly raised his hand, palm pressing downward, and said in a deep voice, "No need!"

The voice was not loud, yet it carried an uncompromising resolve, forcibly cutting off Cui Yizong's words.

His fingertips curled slightly, his brows tightened further, and his previously somber complexion now seemed cloaked in a layer of cold frost.

His gaze swept beyond the dense forest toward the direction of Chang'an City; the fog revealed only a vague outline. Gao Changjing's voice was low and hoarse, bearing a hint of helplessness and gravity: "Now it seems it's already too late....."

Gao Changjing knew clearly that if there were no danger, Li Shengchang would naturally return.....

If danger existed, sending several more people in would be a loss not worth the gain!

Cui Yizong was startled; the urgency on his face froze, and he instinctively asked, "Gongzi (Young Master), you'll just abandon Shengchang?"

Gao Changjing took a deep breath, suppressed his irritation, and said in a deep tone, "First, find a new place to settle!"

Chang'an Ghost Market.

The cold star hid behind a heavy cloud layer.

Lanterns in the streets and alleys flickered, casting dappled light upon the Qingshi slab road.

That hidden loft, tucked deep in the shadows, had only a few windows letting out faint candlelight, concealing the bustle within.

A dozen men clad in Xuanse Jinshen bent over, shifting the heavy wooden crates.

From the seams of the crates, the crisp clink of silver ingots occasionally leaked out, sounding especially harsh in the silent night.

The crates were massive; each required two men to lift, and the men's brows sweated with heat; even in the cold night they shed their outer robes, wearing only simple garments as they toiled.

Li Shengchang stood in the center of the loft, hands clasped behind his back, pacing intermittently to urge them on.

His face bore a hint of agitation; his gaze swept the mountain of crates, his brows knit, "You all move more efficiently!"

"Hurry and load these crates onto the carts!"

The leading man, named Zhou Biao, was burly, a scar from his brow bone down to his jaw; now his face was full of respectful deference, and he quickly cupped his hands in reply, "Yes, yes!"

"Mr. Li, don't be impatient!"

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his tone bearing a hint of ingratiating explanation, "These crates are too big and numerous; each is very heavy, so we need more time to organize them."

"Please sit aside for a moment to catch your breath; Shuyi will speed up!"

"What are you resting for!" Li Shengchang, aware of the dire situation, waved his hand impatiently, his tone growing more urgent, "Then hurry! Stop saying useless things!"

Immediately, his gaze snapped onto Zhou Biao, eyes sharp, "You, stop idling here!"

"What good is just standing and commanding?"

"Go lend a hand!"

Zhou Biao dared not object, hurriedly replying, "Yes, Shuyi will go right now!"

Having said that, he rolled up his sleeve and hurried toward the nearest crate, preparing to lift it together with the man beside him.

At that moment, a teasing voice rang out in the loft, laced with a nonchalant chuckle, piercing the muffled sounds of crate‑moving and breathing: "Such a frantic, hurried relocation—where are you planning to go?"

The voice was not loud, yet it was like a stone dropped into still water, instantly breaking the loft's rhythm.

Li Shengchang froze entirely, the agitation on his face solidifying, replaced by a heavy panic.

A sudden jolt struck his heart, a cold rush surged from his feet to his head; instinctively he stepped back half a step and demanded loudly, "Who?!"

"Who is speaking?!"

His eyes scanned the surroundings warily.

His hands unconsciously pressed to his waist, palms already slick with cold sweat.

The Xuanse Jinshen men moving the crates all froze simultaneously, their motions halting abruptly.

They all straightened up, fatigue leaving their faces, replacing it with guarded expressions; hands pressed toward the Weapons at their waists, eyes searching for the source of the voice.

The loft instantly fell into dead silence.

Only the candlelight quivered in the wind, stretching the shadows of the crowd erratically, adding a touch of tension.

The dead silence in the loft was broken again by that teasing voice, its lazy certainty echoing through the spacious loft: "The one who stored all this silver in this house!"

Before the words finished, a loud "Creak—" rang out.

The loft's heavy wooden door was violently thrown open from outside!

A cold wind, laden with night dew, surged in; the candle flame flickered wildly, and amid the shifting light and shadow, a tall slender figure stood silhouetted against the light.

The newcomer wore a dark Brothel, its hem embroidered with dark‑gold cloud pattern, his face handsome and his demeanor steady and sharp; it was Chen Yan.

He walked slowly into the attic, with Zhu Yi and Hongye on his left and right.

Behind him was a group of embroidered‑cloak emissaries led by Yuanzhou, their collars embroidered with silver patterns, their expressions solemn, wielding blades, entering in orderly formation.

Li Shengchang's pupils dilated sharply, staring fixedly at the leading Chen Yan, suppressing the surge of panic in his heart, his hands clenched into fists, and, astonished, he demanded, "You… you are people of Yuwen Ang?!"

Chen Yan heard the words, slowly shook his fingers, a disdainful curl at the corner of his mouth: "No, no, no! Yuwen Ang is not even worthy…."

Having said that, with one hand hidden behind his back, his posture upright as a pine, his mouth slightly upturned, his gaze sweeping the room full of panicked people, he loudly declared, "I am Chen Yan!"

"Chen Yan?!" Li Shengchang felt as if struck by lightning, his mind buzzing instantly, his outburst trembling with disbelief, "You really are Chen Yan?!"

He widened his eyes, staring fixedly at the face before him, the outline of the portrait in his memory quickly matching the visage before him…

The same handsome brows and eyes, the same imposing aura, only with a few extra unique pressures compared to the portrait.

He never could have imagined that the one who stopped him was this very being!

Beside him, Zhou Biao's whole body stiffened, the hand gripping Weapons trembling slightly, a storm of terror rising in his heart: "The power‑holder of Zhou State who is not yet twenty?!"

That undefeated one, who at only eighteen held the titles of Chief Minister, Duke of Wei, Director of the Bright Mirror Office, Prefect of the Capital, above three men and over ten thousand people, Chen Yan?!

Those heavily‑armed men exchanged glances, their faces full of panic.

The name "Chen Yan" has, during these days in Chang'an, been like thunder in the ears.

At this moment, the strength used to move the boxes earlier was gone, and a chill surged from his feet straight to the top of his head.

Seeing this, Chen Yan's shoulders lifted slightly, a calm smile appearing on his face, his gaze returning to the pallid Li Shengchang, affirming, "Indeed!"

The roar in Li Shengchang's brain had not yet faded, the fear brought by the name "Chen Yan" engulfed him like a tide, leaving only remorse in his heart.

Had he known, he shouldn't have coveted this silver, shouldn't have sneaked back!

Almost instinctively he tore his throat and shouted, "Retreat quickly! This person is treacherous and cunning, do not entangle with him!"

Before the words finished, he turned, without hesitation, sprinting wildly toward the side door at the back of the attic.

The wooden boards beneath his feet were stepped on, thump‑thump sounding.

There was no longer any trace of the composure he had earlier in urging others.

Zhou Biao and the group of heavily‑armed men had already been terrified to the core by Chen Yan's reputation.

Now hearing Li Shengchang's shout, they were even more like granted a pardon, scattering and fleeing.

Some lunged toward the side door, some attempted to climb the window, and others, in a panic, rushed blindly toward the depths of the attic.

For a moment, the attic descended into chaos, footfalls, collisions, and rapid breathing intertwining.

Facing this chaotic scene, Chen Yan remained unhurried, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, no trace of worry in his eyes, he slightly raised his hand: "Act!"

As soon as the words fell, the embroidered‑cloak emissaries, already in strict formation, all raised their hands together.

With a slight tremor of the wrist, dozens of silver‑needle hidden weapons poured out like a sudden rain.

The "whoosh whoosh whoosh" of slicing through the air rose and fell within the attic.

The silver needles, tiny and sharp, concealed by candlelight, shot precisely at the fleeing people's lower back, calves, arms and other vital points.

Zhou Biao was exerting all his strength toward the window, feeling a sting in his rear shoulder, as if bitten by insects.

Instinctively he turned back, only to see a fine needle deeply lodged in his own arm.

He lowered his head, staring at the inconspicuous hidden weapon, his face full of startled doubt: "What is this hidden weapon?"

He reached out, yanked the silver needle out, hurled it hard onto the ground, turned and kept sprinting wildly.

But after only three steps, his legs suddenly went limp, as if all strength had been drained.

His knees bent uncontrollably, and he fell heavily to the ground.

His forehead struck the board, emitting a dull thud.

"What's happening?!"

Zhou Biao struggled in panic, trying to prop himself up, but found every limb and bone tinged with weakness, his hands and feet soft and unresponsive, eyes wide, his face full of disbelief, "Why are my legs powerless?!"

At the same time, the attic echoed with the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground in succession.

Those fleeing heavily‑armed men either stumbled and fell while running, or collapsed the moment they reached the windowsill.

One by one they were like puppets whose sinews had been pulled, collapsing on the ground, unable to move.

Their faces still bore the look of panic, and vague moans escaped their mouths.

Within moments, their eyelids fell uncontrollably, and they all fainted.

The attic soon returned to silence, with only Li Shengchang still forcing himself to hold on…

Two embroidered‑cloak emissaries, swift as leopards, moved in from left and right to encircle.

One grasped the back of Li Shengchang's collar, the other seized his wrist, and with a slight pull dragged him back.

Yuanzhou stepped forward to inspect, seeing everyone already subdued, then turned to Chen Yan, bowing his hands, and reported in a deep voice, "Sir, not a single one missed; all are here!"

Chen Yan slowly nodded, "Very good."

His gaze swept over the scattered silhouettes on the ground.

The embroidered‑cloak emissaries were methodically gathering these people into one spot, to avoid blocking the passage.

Li Shengchang lay on the ground, his neck struggling to lift, his gaze fixed on Chen Yan, his voice heavy with panting and questioning, "Chen Yan, what did you coat the needles with?!"

The weakness in his limbs grew stronger, yet the anger and unwillingness in his heart kept him from closing his eyes.

Chen Yan heard this, lowered his head toward him, his expression calm as if stating something ordinary, his tone matter‑of‑fact: "Dizzy Drug!"

"You… low… despicable…"

Li Shengchang trembled with anger, before his words finished, a fierce exhaustion swept over his body like a tide, his eyelids heavy as if filled with lead.

The next second, the Dizzy Drug took full effect, his vision went black, his head slammed heavily onto the board, and he could no longer hold on, completely fainting away.

Chen Yan withdrew his gaze, walked slowly to those who had fainted, looking down upon them.

He scanned each face one by one, from the towering Zhou Biao to the skinny laborer, carefully recognizing each person's features, his brows gradually furrowing slightly.

Chen Yan, however, did not notice, the handsome man described by Yu Wen'an, murmuring to himself, "Still a step too late....."

"That guy is truly sharp!"