Chapter 452

After waiting a day, Chen Guanlou finally met the chief steward.

The chief steward looked at him with an extremely complex expression, several times opening his mouth but holding back. After a long while, he said, "Everyone thought you were dead."

"You didn't see my corpse, so you assumed I was dead?"

Chen Guanlou sneered. "You really know how to arrange things."

"This wasn't an arrangement. That night, the commotion was enormous, and you never came back…"

"How was I supposed to come back? Who sent those unidentified warriors onto Hou Fu's territory that night? If I hadn't been clever enough to lead them to Zhou Mobai's estate and make them turn on each other, I might really be dead."

Only then did the chief steward learn what had truly happened that night. Upon hearing Chen Guanlou had hidden at the estate to recover from his injuries, he immediately said, "I brought fine medicinal herbs, but no physician."

"No need for a physician. I have my own healing pills. My external wounds aren't serious. But my internal organs are badly injured—I need long-term recuperation. You still haven't told me who sent those warriors that night."

"According to our information, it's almost certainly the Qi family."

"Which Qi family?" Chen Guanlou asked, curious.

"You have a friend named Qi Wuxiu, correct?"

Chen Guanlou frowned but said nothing.

The chief steward continued, "The Beijing Qi family was once a minor clan. Later, several talented members used underhanded methods to forge a kinship tie with the Qingzhou Qi family. Qingzhou Qi is a great lineage that has flourished for centuries, thriving since the Da Yu Dynasty. Even the Marquis himself treats their patriarch with three parts courtesy. Aside from a few officials serving in court, no other clan members reside in Beijing. They've always been discreet. No one expected they still harbored an ultimate expert in Beijing. According to our sources, this man has one foot already across into the Master realm. You fought him—what was your impression?"

"Definitely not a Master!" Chen Guanlou stated firmly.

He had met true Masters—three of them in a single night.

Though there are barriers between Masters, the gulf between a Master and a warrior is even greater—a chasm.

That night, the warrior chasing him was strong—certainly a Ninth Rank warrior, possibly even Ninth Rank peak. But he was nowhere near the Master realm.

If he had been a Master, Chen Guanlou would have already faked his death. If he'd been unlucky, he wouldn't have even had the chance to fake his death—he'd have gone straight to the King of Hell. Even the Longevity Fruit couldn't have saved him.

"Why would the Qi family's warrior target me?" Chen Guanlou couldn't understand.

"I heard he's a martial fanatic."

Absurd.

Chen Guanlou rejected this explanation.

"Don't worry—the Crown Prince has already begun negotiations with the Qi family. There's no conflict or grudge between the two families. That warrior of theirs has no reason to keep pursuing you."

"He's still alive?" Chen Guanlou was surprised. "Zhou Mobai didn't kill him?"

What incredible luck.

The chief steward cleared his throat. "If you could figure out a way to escape, how could the Qi family's warrior not know how to flee?"

"How can he be like me? I've spent years dealing with prisoners from Tianlaomiao—I've been hardened. You just said he's a martial fanatic. He probably never left home to do anything. How could he have better luck than me, and be so good at adapting on the spot?"

Chen Guanlou clearly resented it—how could this guy have such luck? He'd faced the volatile Master Zhou Mobai and walked away unscathed.

Could Zhou Mobai's reputation as a Master be undeserved?

That didn't make sense.

Or perhaps Cheng Lingzi had injured Zhou Mobai, and he still hadn't recovered?

Very likely.

Cheng Lingzi was also a volatile Master, especially toward Zhou Mobai—he treated him with such contempt he openly called him a eunuch.

They fought. Cheng Lingzi walked away untouched; Zhou Mobai vanished, hiding in his estate outside the city to cultivate.

It wasn't cultivation—he was recuperating.

That explained why the Qi family's warrior had escaped Zhou Mobai unharmed.

An injured Master is inevitably weakened.

"You can't just pick a fight because you want to brawl. Why target me specifically? Beijing is full of great clans, each with their own warriors—eighth and ninth ranks abound. If you want to fight, it's easy."

Chen Guanlou couldn't figure it out.

The chief steward answered his question: "You yourself said those warriors are kept by great clans. Without their masters' permission, they won't act. You're different—you're a Chen clan member. You have fewer restraints. You fight whenever you want."

Chen Guanlou: …

He had nothing to say.

It was utterly terrible.

"Can I return to Beijing now? Will trouble come after me if I go back?"

"Don't worry—the Crown Prince will clear all obstacles for you. If you want to return, you can go anytime. If you find Beijing too noisy, you can stay here to recover. I'll send others to serve you—tell them whatever you need."

Chen Guanlou pondered for a while. "Is Hou Fu safe now? Has Jiang Tu stopped going mad?"

"Last night, our people stormed Jiang's mansion and reached Jiang Tu's bedroom. The tip of our blade was just an inch from ending his life."

"So…"

"Jiang Tu is still alive, but he's been terrified out of his wits. This morning, he entered Taijigong. The old Emperor will likely sideline him for a while."

"You mean this whole farce is over?" Chen Guanlou was surprised. The conflict had erupted wildly—and seemed to end just as abruptly.

The chief steward nodded. "Unless something unexpected happens, it's nearly finished. But the Crown Prince isn't happy—this incident exposed you."

The Crown Prince Chen Guanfu felt like he'd lost a hundred million.

Chen Guanlou was such a perfect secret weapon!

And now, because of this ridiculous mess, he'd been exposed.

If he'd known Chen Guanlou had this kind of strength, he would have hidden him at all costs—never let the world know.

But since he was already exposed, he'd have to think carefully: how could this be turned to advantage? How exactly?

Chen Guanlou didn't know any of this.

He himself felt it was ridiculous—exposed so quickly. He'd built so many disguises, and not one had been useful at the critical moment.

The culprits were Jiang Tu and the old Emperor—this master and servant, colluding in evil, destined for a miserable end.

Chen Guanlou told the chief steward he'd decided to stay at the estate to recover.

Although his injuries had mostly healed, he had to pretend he was still severely wounded, to avoid suspicion.

He also gave the chief steward a list of herbs and told him to deliver them.

Internal injuries require long, long recuperation—he wouldn't be returning to Beijing before the New Year.

The chief steward agreed to everything, urging him to rest well and assuring him Hou Fu would handle all aftermath in Beijing.

"Later, Hou Fu may spread word that you were on the brink of death and your cultivation has regressed, to help conceal your true condition."

"I'm not quite on the brink of death, but my cultivation has indeed regressed. If you made me fight that madman from the Qi family now, I'd be dead for sure."

Chen Guanlou openly admitted he was a weakling—a weakling who needed protection.

The weaker, the better.

The weaker, the better the camouflage.

To strengthen his claim, he forced himself to cough up a mouthful of blood.

It nearly killed him!

Perfect—the exhausted, pale face, paired with the blood, doubled his credibility.