Chapter 441

Chen Guanlou became famous in one battle!

The clan was stunned.

By the time dawn faintly broke, the news had spread throughout the entire clan. Many, despite illness or the bloody scene, stepped out of their homes to witness the miracle.

The miracle was those corpses.

The warriors who had invaded the Hou Fu's territory last night.

Almost all were cut down with one stroke each.

Those with knowledge of martial arts, upon seeing the wounds on the corpses, gasped in awe. Such swordplay—even if not wielded by a warrior—could not be underestimated.

No one had expected that, without a word, Chen Guanlou had refined his swordplay to this level, capable of slaying warriors.

But could swordplay alone reverse the tide and kill warriors?

Everyone carried doubt in their hearts.

As the central figure, whenever anyone asked, Chen Guanlou gave only one reply: Heaven had protected him; he was Heaven's favorite, which was why he could slay warriors. Everyone assumed he was insincere, turned away with sneers, and cursed him for speaking not a single truth.

What could Chen Guanlou do? He spoke the truth, though he dressed it up—but no one believed him.

At this moment, another piece of news arrived.

Why were the Hou Fu's guards so scarce? Because all the Hou Fu guards had been dispatched. Last night, Jiang Tu sent men to rampage and kill within the Hou Fu's territory; similarly, the Hou Fu sent men to kill Jiang Tu's forces.

Both sides slaughtered each other.

Due to the unexpected presence of Chen Guanlou, the outcome was clear: Jiang Tu suffered a crushing defeat.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Jiang Fu.

Each thud of heavy objects striking the ground made the servants tremble.

"Useless! All of you are useless! You can't even handle a simple matter!"

"My lord, it is not that we are incompetent, but that the Chen family has a man named Chen Guanlou—he is terrifying. The men we sent to the Hou Fu were almost all slaughtered by him."

"Who the hell is Chen Guanlou? Is he a warrior?"

"He is not a warrior, but his swordplay is divine…"

"Shut your filthy mouth. I have never heard of anyone killing warriors solely through martial technique. You are making excuses."

"My lord, I dare not lie. It is true—last night, nearly all the men we sent were killed by that Chen Guanlou. If you doubt it, send someone to verify. I swear I have not concealed a single detail."

Jiang Tu kicked the thug over, his face twisted in rage.

"A mere nobody—you just said this Chen Guanlou works in the Tianlaomiao, meaning he's a lowly prison guard—who somehow held off dozens of warriors? That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard."

The thug dared not speak.

He himself thought it unlikely.

Not one or two, but ten, twenty—these were all warriors. The weakest were first-rank; most were second or third-rank.

Sending so many warriors at once meant they had emptied their entire reserve. And yet they were all killed, with only a handful returning.

"My lord, what should we do next?"

"What to do? Of course, continue!"

"Continue?!" The thugs' hearts sank—continuing meant more lives thrown into the grinder.

"I told you, from the moment you relied on my power, you should have been ready to die. Now you want to back out? Too late. Either continue, or I'll give you a quick death. Choose."

"My lord, you jest. Our loyalty to you is witnessed by heaven and earth. If we betray you, may thunder strike us down and doom us to a wretched death."

Jiang Tu chuckled, seemingly pleased with their response. "With such resolve, it's not wasted that I've sheltered you all these years. Recruit warriors with heavy gold—keep killing. I haven't called off the order, so none of you dare stop."

"That Chen Guanlou…"

"A mere prison guard? I'll handle him myself."

He refused to believe that two or three-rank warriors couldn't eliminate a single prison guard.

Whether the dead warriors were truly killed by Chen Guanlou didn't matter. What mattered was striking the Hou Fu and the Chen clan from every angle, maximizing the damage to please the old emperor in the palace.

The Imperial Palace!

The old emperor sat in meditation, eyes closed, Daoists standing by in attendance.

The old emperor no longer held court or convened assemblies, yet he had time for morning rituals—his determination to cultivate the Dao and seek immortality was unshakable.

Court ministers had submitted dozens, even hundreds of memorials. The Council of State selected a dozen and sent them to the Taiji Palace for the old emperor's review.

Qiu Defu sifted through these memorials, making the final cut for the emperor. The contents made him frown deeply.

All were accusations against Jiang Tu's misconduct; only a few targeted Hou Fu's heir, Chen Guanfu.

Since these two families clashed, the entire capital had been in turmoil, with not a single day of peace.

No one understood the old emperor's intent, yet as the year drew to a close, he insisted on stirring up this chaos—everyone grew anxious, unable to sleep.

When the old emperor finished his morning meditation and the Daoists withdrew from the main hall, Qiu Defu stepped forward slowly. "Your Majesty, would you care to rest? The imperial kitchen has prepared a health tonic. Shall I have it served?"

"Hmm."

The old emperor rose, eyes closed, as palace attendants dressed him, applied face ointment, and washed his hands.

Upon receiving the reply, Qiu Defu immediately waved his hand, signaling his disciples to bring up the tonic, kept warm all morning.

He would never entrust the old emperor's food to ordinary palace servants. While on duty, he allowed only his disciples to handle all meals, ensuring safety.

If he were off-duty, he would not interfere, nor let his disciples touch the food—lest any mishap occur and implicate a long chain of people.

"Any urgent matters today?" the old emperor asked casually, once dressed and seated on the dragon throne.

Qiu Defu quickly presented the selected memorials. "These are from the Council of State—mostly accusations against Minister Jiang Tu and Hou Fu's heir, Chen Guanfu."

Upon hearing this, the old emperor raised an eyebrow slightly and idly flipped open the top memorial—precisely the one accusing Chen Guanfu.

This one had been deliberately placed on top by Qiu Defu.

The old emperor finished reading it quickly, a faint smile curling his lips—he seemed pleased.

He picked up the second: an accusation against Jiang Tu, its language ferocious, a full-scale assault—barely short of cursing Jiang Tu's ancestors eighteen generations deep.

The third was again against Jiang Tu; its wording revealed the official's fury, as if he wished to peel Jiang Tu's skin and crack his bones.

The fourth accused Chen Guanfu, but its tone was refined.

The fifth accused Jiang Tu again—its language was vulgar as a street thug's rant, as crude as it could be.

The old emperor had no interest in reading further.

He now understood: ministers venting against Jiang Tu showed no restraint whatsoever—they wrote as if they were shouting curses, not submitting memorials. But when accusing Chen Guanfu, their scholarly refinement showed clearly—their years of Confucian cultivation.

Hmph!

The old emperor clearly grew displeased. "What's the real situation?"

Qiu Defu hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "This morning, I received word that Minister Jiang's side suffered heavy losses. The Hou Fu also lost many men and considerable wealth. For exact details, we must consult the Embroidered Uniform Guard."