Chapter 950: Don

Puff!

Chen Guanlou spat out his tea.

He never expected that his casual joke had actually been taken seriously.

He whispered to the Marquis, “I heard someone disturbed the imperial tomb and killed the tomb guards—did you send someone to do it?”

“Don’t speak nonsense without evidence,” said the Marquis of Pingjiang, his tone stern and his expression naturally imposing, radiating official authority. His face revealed only power—nothing else. No joy, no anger, nothing showed.

Impossible to fathom!

Could Chen Guanlou be defeated by such a minor obstacle?

Obviously not!

He leveraged his thick skin and pressed on: “Who else could it be? I only mentioned this joke to you. No one else could know.”

“Perhaps someone independently reached the same conclusion. The world is full of clever people, and even more who excel at turning small advantages into great gains. Don’t underestimate the heroes of the world,” replied the Marquis, speaking as if instructing a young pupil.

Chen Guanlou’s lip twitched—he realized the Marquis’s face was even thicker than his own.

“What heroes? Who else has the ability, the nerve, and the skill to act without getting caught? Disturbing the imperial tomb is a crime punishable by extermination of nine clans. Tell me—how many heroes in the world would dare such a thing? Only in the final years of dynasties, when rebellion raged across the land, did such desecrations occur. And such acts always invite universal condemnation. Prince Chu is barely holding on himself—he couldn’t possibly have done it. Who else but you?”

“Don’t falsely accuse me!”

The Marquis of Pingjiang snapped angrily, “I am a court official—how could I commit such an act of disrespect toward ruler and father? I am not that cruel. Perhaps it was some rebel faction. Or maybe the Emperor has made too many enemies, and someone dared to take desperate action. Alas… this cannot be spoken of!”

The Marquis made it clear: he would never admit it. No matter who asked, his answer was always the same: as a subject, if the ruler is disgraced, the subject must die. If the palace issued an order, he would immediately raise troops and slaughter the traitors.

Chen Guanlou swiftly changed the subject, no longer pressing whether he had done it, but asked: “Did you clean up all traces? Who did you send? Such boldness—piercing the heavens like a hole. Didn’t you fear capture? Didn’t you fear being implicated?”

The Marquis’s gaze swept over him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you have nothing to do, leave.”

This was cutting the bridge after crossing the river!

“The assassin you mentioned—why hasn’t he shown up yet after all these days?” Chen Guanlou was bored out of his mind.

The northwestern frontier had nothing entertaining.

In refinement, variety of amusement, beauty and affection of women, allure of the world of pleasures—it all paled beside the capital. Time dragged, and boredom set in.

He wanted to return to the capital.

The capital was bustling—there was always something happening every few days, gossip to hear, life delightfully rich.

He had no intention of staying long in the northwest to eat sand.

“Now everyone knows you guard me. Even assassins have brains and value their lives—they won’t risk attacking. If you’re bored, I’ll grant you two days’ leave. Go wander, clear your head.”

Chen Guanlou promptly left the camp to clear his mind.

He went to find the rogue monk Liu Daowen.

Liu Daowen nearly jumped out of his skin upon seeing him.

“Prison Warden Chen, why are you back again?”

“Don’t you welcome me?”

“No, no, not at all—I’m just surprised. I heard something big happened in the capital. You’re not in the capital now—why are you out here in the northwest?”

“Don’t you know? The Marquis’s old lady passed away. I came to deliver the news. Did you forget the Marquis’s surname is Chen?”

“Never! Impossible to forget. Even if I forgot my own surname, I’d never forget the Marquis’s. ” Liu Daowen chuckled, as always obsequious, tinged with sleaze—his demeanor was unimpressive.

In truth, his features were well-proportioned. Officials never looked ugly—ugly men were filtered out during the imperial exams, unless they were prodigies. But his aura—after so many years as a monk—he remained a sham rogue monk, insincere, unclean, his mind still cluttered with all sorts of filth.

“With the old lady’s death, the Hou Fu will surely face upheaval. Alas… I’m just as tangled up. The Marquis told me to wait for his orders, but it’s been days and the imperial envoy still hasn’t arrived. Liu Daoren, you once moved in official circles—what do you think? What will be the Marquis’s situation? What will become of the Hou Fu?”

Chen Guanlou asked humbly for advice.

As the saying goes: the onlooker sees clearly.

A former official, one who had survived life and death—surely he had some insight. Perhaps he could offer something truly perceptive.

Chen Guanlou never underestimated these officials—they had sharp minds!

Liu Daowen indeed fell into serious thought. “Prison Warden Chen, are you certain the court sent an envoy?”

“Absolutely certain. Not only did the court send someone, but the palace did too. You can guess what they’re here for.”

Liu Daowen nodded. “I can guess a little. The court’s envoy is here first to offer condolences—that’s expected. Second, they likely want the Marquis to surrender his military command and return to the capital to observe mourning.”

“But the Marquis hasn’t submitted his memorial yet. He says he’ll wait until the palace envoy arrives.”

“Whether he submits the memorial early or late doesn’t matter. What matters is: as the son, the Marquis cannot escape filial duty, no matter whether the old lady was his biological mother. Filial duty is filial duty. Unless the Emperor grants him exemption from mourning—but that would provoke outcry from the scholarly class and damage the Marquis’s reputation.”

“The Marquis is a noble, not a civil official—his reputation isn’t that critical. The key point is: the Emperor won’t grant exemption.”

“Not necessarily!” Liu Daowen whispered. “I heard the imperial tomb was disturbed, and the mastermind still hasn’t been found. If handled properly, even if the Emperor resists, he may ultimately be forced to issue an edict granting exemption.”

Chen Guanlou raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Explain in detail—how exactly could you force the Emperor to issue such an edict?”

Liu Daowen smiled mysteriously, adopting a lofty sage’s posture. “It depends on how many cards the Marquis holds. Different cards mean different strategies. Can’t lump them together.”

Chen Guanlou pondered a moment, then suddenly asked: “Back when you wandered the martial world, did you survive by using your brain alone—until you ended up in Tianlaomiao?”

A killing blow!

Liu Daowen’s composure shattered. “Prison Warden Chen, don’t speak nonsense! I ended up in Tianlaomiao thanks to those censors and my idiot allies. When the late Emperor died, if I’d been in the capital, Jiang Tu might still have had a chance.”

Bluffing cost nothing—Jiang Tu was already dead; he could say whatever he liked.

Chen Guanlou smirked, his expression clearly saying: Do you think I believe you?

Liu Daowen hurriedly added: “I’m not boasting. Jiang Tu’s greatest crime was deceiving the Emperor and corrupting the court. If he’d named someone of higher status, he might have lived.”

Chen Guanlou shook his head. “Precisely because Jiang Tu might have named someone of higher status—he had to die. Even if the Emperor swore to spare him, he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow’s sun.”

Liu Daowen froze in shock—and upon reflection, realized it was true.