Chapter 448: I

Perhaps Chen Guanlou had given outsiders the wrong impression, making them believe he relied solely on his swordplay to dominate—without his blade, he was just a weakling.

Today, he was escorting his elder sister home and wasn't carrying his sword.

On the way back, someone couldn't hold back and ambushed him on the road.

Chen Guanlou without a sword? Surely an easy target.

Chen Guanlou: …

He was wrong—he shouldn't have let outsiders form such a mistaken impression.

Looking at the three low-rank martial artists blocking his path, he felt utterly bored.

"Don't take turns. Come at me all at once."

"How arrogant."

"I'd like to see whether your mouth is bolder than the sword in my hand."

Chen Guanlou scratched his ear, impatient—he was still hungry and planned to go to Sister Chunxiang's for another bowl of rice. When would these three shut up?

"Too much talk. Can't you even fight?"

"Absurd!"

"Arrogant!"

A bunch of loudmouths.

Chen Guanlou decided to stop indulging them; his fingers twitched slightly, and the three weapons flew from their owners' hands, spinning midair before stabbing straight at the three low-rank martial artists.

"Y-you y-you…"

"It's broad daylight, and this is a public place—I won't kill you. Mind your own business."

No sooner had he spoken than the three weapons pierced the limbs of the three martial artists, drawing blood!

Chen Guanlou walked away, passing right through them toward home. The screams behind him he ignored.

Then he ran into an old acquaintance: Qi Wuxiu.

"You never told me your cultivation was this high."

"You never asked."

Chen Guanlou frowned—he hadn't wanted to meet Qi Wuxiu now. He'd planned to keep playing the humble jailer, but that was no longer possible.

Qi Wuxiu stared at the three writhing martial artists behind him, then asked suddenly, "If I were you, could I survive even one strike from you?"

Chen Guanlou: …

Well, that question…

"Are you here as an individual, or as an Embroidered Uniform Guard?" He needed to know.

"I'm here as your friend," Qi Wuxiu said solemnly.

Chen Guanlou smiled, relieved—this friendship could still last, which was good.

"Since you asked, I'll answer as your friend: with your cultivation, you couldn't survive even one strike from me."

Qi Wuxiu looked crestfallen, frustrated, and bitterly said, "I thought I'd at least last two or three strikes. But you won't even lie to me—you won't let me survive one!"

His emotions were complicated.

He had always believed his best friend was inferior in every way—now, suddenly, the man revealed himself as a hidden master. Was he desperate? Not quite. Was he ready to cling to this powerful ally? Not yet. Was he bitter, envious, jealous? Definitely. Did he hate him? Not at all.

His feelings were just too tangled—he couldn't adjust right away.

"I treat you as a friend, so I won't lie to you," Chen Guanlou said frankly. By now, lying or not made no difference—the mask was off, so he might as well go all out.

Qi Wuxiu nodded. "Wanna drink?"

"I'm on night patrol tonight—only half an hour."

"Enough. I'll treat you—I've got money."

"You… actually have money?"

Chen Guanlou suddenly realized everyone around him seemed to be broke.

Lu Datou had money only to gamble—he spent twenty-five or twenty-six days a month mooching meals.

Qi Wuxiu spent too much and was always broke, running to Chen Guanlou's for free meals every few days.

All a bunch of idiots who didn't know how to save or manage money—deserved to be poor their whole lives.

The two found a small tavern; Qi Wuxiu's finances were limited, so he could only afford two small dishes to go with the liquor.

Chen Guanlou didn't mind.

Even if it were just a dish of peanuts, he could sip and eat for two or three hours—this was the joy of drinking.

When the food and wine arrived, Qi Wuxiu downed several cups, got a bit drunk, then spoke: "Watch yourself. Your name's already registered in the Embroidered Uniform Guard's records—many will now track your movements. Also, Jiang Tu has gathered a group of martial artists to target Hou Fu. Tonight won't be peaceful."

"If tonight is peaceful, that'd be strange," Chen Guanlou chuckled indifferently. "Telling me this—won't it hurt you? Isn't this leaking secrets?"

"No! Anyone can find out these things. The Embroidered Uniform Guard isn't trying to hide them. The Marquis is still fighting up north, the rebel Guo Dachun is still causing chaos—and it's getting worse. I just can't understand why the Emperor wants Jiang Tu to target Hou Fu."

Qi Wuxiu sat with his head down, lost in thought.

Since joining the Embroidered Uniform Guard, he'd never been happy. Everything kept surprising him—even Chen Guanlou turned out to be a hidden master.

And he himself? Just a clown.

"Because he's guilty," Chen Guanlou said lightly, four words.

"Who? Who's guilty?" Qi Wuxiu didn't react at first.

Chen Guanlou smiled but said nothing.

Qi Wuxiu stared blankly, then suddenly understood: "You mean… how is that possible? Why would he feel guilty?"

"Because he stubbornly destroyed the state's foundation, shattered the court's core, ruined the orthodox beliefs everyone had upheld for generations, and dismantled the order they'd painstakingly built. Destruction is easy; rebuilding is hard. He knows full well he'll face backlash sooner or later. That's why he's guilty—he's terrified, so he strikes first."

"But both north and south are at war."

"He doesn't care anymore. Besides, he's already secured an escape route. So far, this whole farce has been framed as a private feud between Hou Fu and Jiang Fu. Since it's private, it can be settled anytime—flexible, reversible, a brilliant move. He can't resist such temptation."

Chen Guanlou analyzed the whole matter calmly.

Was it complicated?

If you said it was, it truly was—it involved that old bastard, the former Emperor.

If you said it was simple, it was simple too: the old bastard's paranoia flared up again—he gets restless unless he stirs up trouble.

Jiang Tu? Just a lackey, a thug, disposable fodder—not worth mentioning.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard? Just the side drummers. When the palace gives orders, they move. When it doesn't, they just maintain order, keeping the conflict confined within set limits—no escalation.

The fight must be strictly locked under the words "private feud."

Qi Wuxiu kept his head down, silent for a long while—then spoke words that shook the earth.

"I'm quitting the Embroidered Uniform Guard. This job no longer suits me."

"Are you sure? Will your family agree? Think carefully."

"I've thought it through."

"What will you do after leaving? Will the Embroidered Uniform Guard allow it?"

"I don't know. I haven't decided." Qi Wuxiu's attitude was pure bare resignation—unhappy with the job, he'd quit first and figure out the future later.