Chapter 173: Temple Fair

"How do you know? Who told you?" Qi Wuxiu's body tensed instantly, his expression turning grim and serious, as if ready to draw his blade at the slightest provocation.

Chen Guanlou snorted in disdain. "You don't need anyone to tell you something obvious—even your toes could figure it out. Isn't this just imperial protocol? I've read two years of books and plenty of folk histories and tales. Doesn't the court have this custom?"

After hearing this, Qi Wuxiu gradually relaxed. "I thought someone had leaked word. Since you know it's imperial protocol, don't ask anymore."

"The Marquis is disabled," Chen Guanlou added unnecessarily, playing the fool.

A fool has no business working for the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Qi Wuxiu gave a forced laugh. "The Marquis of Pingjiang is an exceptional warrior. None of the border troops in Jinzhou would obey orders—they were all insubordinate. But when the Marquis of Pingjiang went, he consolidated all the troops in just a few months, subdued the military commanders, and won a brilliant victory. The Marquis of Pingjiang is a pillar of the state. The court naturally pays closer attention to such a vital minister."

"Have the Embroidered Uniform Guard watch him?" Chen Guanlou chuckled. "How amusing."

"Actually, it's a good thing," Qi Wuxiu said seriously. "People always misunderstand—being watched by the Embroidered Uniform Guard seems like a step toward the imperial prison. But isn't it also a kind of protection?"

Chen Guanlou didn't believe it. No one in the world believed it.

Being watched by the Embroidered Uniform Guard is a good thing? Hah! How self-flattering.

Everyone has moments of despair—it's beyond human control. When in despair, people say foolish things to vent. If the Embroidered Uniform Guard overhears and reports it to the old emperor, do you think he won't overthink it? Won't he suspect the minister is dissatisfied with him?

Then they do nothing—pretend nothing happened—only to settle accounts later, adding all those venting remarks to the charges. Only then do you realize how terrifying it is to be watched by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

No one wants this kind of attention.

Seeing Chen Guanlou's deep prejudice against the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Qi Wuxiu dropped the subject of switching posts.

Chen Guanlou himself breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to keep refusing people with excuses like "the Tianlaomiao is profitable and I'm not ready to move." Say it too often, and outsiders might grow suspicious.

Better to do things that seem out of place—then others will fill in the blanks themselves: Look, that Chen kid belongs in Tianlaomiao—he's too careless, he'd be dead in any other yamen.

"Why didn't you go to the front with the Marquis of Pingjiang?" Qi Wuxiu still asked—he was curious why someone would turn down such a bright future.

Chen Guanlou replied without hesitation: "The Marquis has high standards. My abilities are insufficient—I wasn't selected."

"Wasn't selected—or never applied?"

"Is there a difference? I'm nobody, already five generations removed from the family. Why would the Marquis lift me up for no reason? If you were his elder, wouldn't you prioritize your own kin when the chance arose?"

Qi Wuxiu had no rebuttal—it was the truth.

He suddenly grew earnest, making a solemn promise: "There will be more wars. When the time comes, I'll recommend you."

"Thanks!" Chen Guanlou couldn't bring himself to refuse again, so he gave a vague reply. People these days really loved meddling in others' futures! If he didn't carry secrets, perhaps he truly would've joined the army to carve out a future. After all, he had no ties—die, and your cock faces heaven; live, and you live forever.

At dawn on the first day of the first lunar month, they drank and chatted until the first sunny day of Taixing 47 arrived.

Ten thousand rays of light!

The streets were packed with people!

Elder sister Chen Xiaolan knocked early, urging him to go to the temple fair—mainly to burn incense at the City God Temple.

Chen Guanlou yawned.

Chen Guanxin had left early; Qi Wuxiu had slipped away at midnight, saying he needed to return home early to pay respects and kowtow to his elders for the New Year.

"You go. Why drag me along?" He wanted to sleep. He was a martial cultivator—he wasn't truly tired, he just felt such a fine day wasted if he didn't lie in the courtyard, sipping tea and napping.

Chen Xiaolan pointed at his nose. "It's the first day of the New Year—don't make me curse you! Get dressed properly and come with me to burn incense. Afterward, I need to help your brother-in-law. It's the first day—his tea stall is booming, he's swamped."

Chen Guanlou rubbed his eyes. "Isn't your husband helping you?"

"He's too busy. You know as well as I do—every New Year's Day is like this."

"Uncle, I want to go to the temple fair."

Little Ya Ya tugged at Chen Guanlou's sleeve, speaking in a soft, childish voice. Chen Guanlou instantly softened. How could he refuse? He quickly got ready, locked the courtyard gate, placed Ya Ya on his shoulders, and followed his elder sister to the temple fair.

A sea of people!

It seemed as if everyone in the capital had come to the temple fair.

Around seven or eight temples and Daoist shrines were packed with common folk burning incense, praying for blessings. A stick of incense cost little, yet bought a year's peace of mind—why not?

Chen Guanlou pushed through the crowd with his sister Chen Xiaolan, always holding little Ya Ya, shielding her head. They finally squeezed in, got their incense and candles, and began another round of pushing.

Look at this scene—what else could this be but a golden age?

No wonder people always say the sage ruler reigns—the common folk still hold a decent opinion of the old emperor. Clearly, he did well in his early years; that's why the city is so prosperous.

Now the old emperor has grown foolish and is acting recklessly.

But everything has a lag—the consequences of his recklessness have already appeared in the provinces, yet haven't yet reached the common folk of the capital.

The capital, beneath the Son of Heaven's feet, must maintain face.

The capital is the court's last shred of dignity—it must make every outsider feel that dignity. For the most part, things remain orderly.

When things aren't orderly, ordinary folk never feel it. The chaos that lands on commoners has already been filtered through layers—it becomes mere thuggish bullying. Matters from the top rarely reach the bottom so directly.

Chen Xiaolan burned her incense, her face breaking into a relieved smile—today's most important task was done.

She urged Chen Guanlou to burn incense too.

Chen Guanlou didn't believe in it—he believed only in himself.

"Sister, leave me alone. I'll watch Ya Ya all day—go help your husband. One less helper means lost income. Go quick!"

Chen Xiaolan glared at him. "Ya Ya, you'll stay with Uncle, right?"

"I want to stay with Uncle," Ya Ya clung tightly to Chen Guanlou's neck, clearly affectionate.

Chen Xiaolan smiled. "Fine. Stay with Uncle all day."