Chapter 260

Chen Guanlou picked out six bolts of cloth, two bolts of silk, three bolts of fine cotton, and one bolt of linen.

He planned to give two bolts to his eldest sister and use the rest to make clothes for himself.

He had too many vests; he needed several sets of clothes, made from different materials—but none so rare that their origin could be traced at a glance.

"Do you know a skilled seamstress? If not, our fabric shop has several on hand—experienced, with years of practice."

"Fine, I'll have my clothes made here. Across the street—convenient."

Madam Qu pursed her lips and smiled, taking the measuring tape from her maid's hands, stepping forward two paces to measure him herself.

They stood close, their clothes nearly touching.

A faint, elusive orchid scent drifted from Madam Qu.

Chen Guanlou glanced at her from the corner of his eye—she couldn't be over twenty-five. Her hands, smooth and uncalloused, suggested a good childhood. Her neck was long and pale, her earlobes slightly flushed—she was shy.

She bowed her head slightly, strands of hair falling beside her temples, framing a portrait of beauty.

The scene was as beautiful as a painting.

Chen Guanlou took a deep breath; the delicate orchid scent wasn't intoxicating, yet he felt himself drowning in it.

"Oh!"

Madam Qu tripped over her own foot and nearly fell. Chen Guanlou seized the chance to wrap his arm around her waist. Even through her thick cotton padding, he could feel her slender waist—not bony, not flabby, but perfectly toned, exquisite.

Madam Qu's breath quickened; she pushed at him with both hands, her cheeks flushed red and white. "Thank you, Master Chen—you may let go now."

Chen Guanlou reluctantly released her, then lowered his head to sniff his fingertips. The faint lingering scent still clung to them.

Seeing this, Madam Qu's face turned as red as a boiled shrimp. She handed the tape to her maid without a word. "I just remembered—the soup's still simmering on the stove. Excuse me!" She fled in flustered haste.

The maid: …

Chen Guanlou: …

He returned home, feeling listless.

Faces flashed before him: Liu Weshi, Liu Shi, Pan Niangzi, Madam Qu—each beautiful, delicate, alluring, or dignified in turn.

Testing his limits?

Damn it!

Better train my martial arts.

At midnight, he yawned and rolled out of bed.

Stepping out of his bedroom, he saw Qi Wuxiu already crouched on the wall, about to climb over.

He waved, a casual greeting, then carried a pot of hot water into the study.

Qi Wuxiu followed in as if it were his own home, pouring himself tea without asking.

"Why do you always come creeping over in the middle of the night? Don't you sleep?"

"Just finished a mission, stopped by on the way." Qi Wuxiu spoke with perfect confidence. Spotting pastries in a basket, he grabbed one without a word and began eating.

"I knew you'd have food here."

"Are the Embroidered Uniform Guard really that busy? You've already ruined Dongzhou—I thought you'd have nothing left to do."

"Hey, I won't accept that. It wasn't us who ruined Dongzhou—it was the heretical rebels."

"Whatever. We all know the truth." Chen Guanlou didn't bother arguing.

Qi Wuxiu sighed, genuinely weary. "I didn't expect Dongzhou to be so bad."

Chen Guanlou silently rolled his eyes. As the Son of Heaven's hounds, they should've known every mission would shatter countless families. Expand the crackdown, and the whole region suffers. That's the power of the Embroidered Uniform Guard—the power of the Emperor.

Seeing his gloom, Chen Guanlou asked curiously, "What happened now?"

"Nothing major. Recently, a stranger has appeared in Jingcheng—a martial artist whose style is bizarre. He escaped a ninth-rank martial artist with just one move and vanished. We've been ordered to find him—dig up the earth to the third layer if we must."

What?

Chen Guanlou's heart surged like a stormy sea.

If he wasn't mistaken, the "stranger" Qi Wuxiu described was himself.

He wasn't being arrogant.

Aside from the "stranger" label, the rest—escaping a ninth-rank martial artist with a single move—was exactly what had happened the day before.

But…

That ninth-rank martial artist was allied with the man who kidnapped the Grand Tutor.

Why was the Embroidered Uniform Guard now involved?

Could the kidnapper be…

He dared not think further, yet he had to.

He feigned curiosity. "What's this got to do with you Embroidered Uniform Guard? You're supposed to spy on officials—why chase some wandering martial artist? Wasting imperial resources, do you know that? Unless… that ninth-rank martial artist is one of your own? Lost face, so you're trying to recover it."

Qi Wuxiu sipped tea and munched on the pastry. "I don't know the details. All I was told: find an unknown martial artist around seventh-rank."

Chen Guanlou's heart leapt. "Seventh-rank? Are you certain?"

He had seventh-rank strength? Too fast.

"The orders won't be wrong."

"A seventh-rank escaping a ninth-rank with one move? You're exaggerating." Chen Guanlou sneered, convinced Qi Wuxiu was lying.

Qi Wuxiu spread his hands. "I don't believe it either. But that's what the orders say. And the info came from the ninth-rank martial artist himself—no reason to lie."

Chen Guanlou pressed his pounding heart and pressed further. "You don't doubt it at all? Do you know this ninth-rank martial artist?"

"I've seen him once—from afar. Heard he came from the palace."

Chen Guanlou's heart nearly burst.

Just as I thought!

Someone from the palace—either a eunuch or a guard. Eunuch is more likely. He'd sensed the ninth-rank martial artist lacked real combat experience. Had it been a seasoned warrior, he'd never have escaped with that one feint and his superior lightness skill.

Thank heaven!

Lucky to be alive!

He suppressed his excitement and murmured, "The palace truly hides dragons and tigers."

"The palace holds more than just ninth-rank martial artists. Rumor says there are even Grand Masters stationed there—but I've only heard that."

"You're a third-rank martial artist—chasing a seventh-rank? Aren't you afraid of dying?" Chen Guanlou teased.

"We have numbers. Once we spot him, reinforcements arrive in moments. Ants can kill an elephant. Besides, we have top-tier martial artists too. A seventh-rank? Easy to catch."

Chen Guanlou: …

Suddenly, he felt extremely endangered.

No wonder Jingcheng hides dragons and tigers.

"I always thought high-rank martial artists were rare. Now I feel like they're everywhere."

Qi Wuxiu laughed. "Actually, you're right—high-rank martial artists are rare. The few there are are all absorbed by the court. Almost none remain among the people."

"What about sects? Noble families? Don't they have any?"

"Some do—but very few. I know of a few sects with Grand Masters."

"No Grand Masters in noble families?" Chen Guanlou seized the chance to ask more—this kind of information wasn't available on the streets or in the Heavenly Prison. Only someone like Qi Wuxiu, serving in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, could know it.

"Maybe some do, maybe not. Noble families keep quiet—they don't want to draw the court's attention. If a noble family produced a Grand Master, the Emperor would be restless and act."

"How many Grand Masters does the court have?"