Chapter 951: Assassination Attempt

Chen Guanlou took leave from Liu Daowen and hurried back to the camp.

The Marquis of Pingjiang was assassinated!

Within the two days he was away, three waves of assassins struck. The Marquis of Pingjiang was wounded severely.

At first, the personal guards blocked Chen Guanlou, forbidding him to enter and visit. They said the Marquis had ordered that, without his permission, no one except the physician and the two military advisors was allowed inside.

Chen Guanlou’s anger surged. “Are you certain you can stop me?”

“We must stop you even if we can’t. The Marquis’s order brooks no argument. If you, Master Chen, the prison warden, refuse to obey, feel free to kill us and walk in.”

Fine!

Chen Guanlou had no intention of killing the personal guards.

He could only take a roundabout route and send someone to deliver a message.

After much delay, he finally met the Marquis of Pingjiang.

“Old Master, you’re not dead yet, are you? You’ve gone so far as to fake an assassination—how much effort did you really need to put in?”

“I’m nearly dead, and you still accuse me of faking it?” The Marquis of Pingjiang coughed lightly, lying on the bed, pale and listless.

Chen Guanlou let out a cold laugh. He clearly saw the Marquis’s wounds were grave—but not fatal. With proper medicine and care, he’d be up and about soon enough.

He said, “You were the one who asked me to stay and guard your safety. I agreed without hesitation. Then you told me to go out and stroll for two days. And precisely during those two days, you were attacked three times and left critically wounded. What do you think I’ll conclude?”

Don’t deny it—these three assassinations had nothing to do with you? You didn’t arrange them? I don’t care how you play your chess game. I only know this: don’t play me! If you think you can toy with me, I won’t mind flipping the table—we’ll all lose.”

The Marquis of Pingjiang tried to sit up.

Chen Guanlou raised a hand and pressed him down. “Don’t move. Your wounds aren’t fatal, but if they reopen repeatedly and fester, you’ll still die. You need rest. Lie still.”

The Marquis tried to persuade him. “I know you have doubts. Had I been in your place, I’d have suspected too. I won’t bother explaining—only tell you this: everything I’ve done is for the border troops and civilians, for the Hou Fu, for the Chen clan. If the Hou Fu falls, you know what fate awaits the Chen family. You’ve served in the Heavenly Prison—you’ve seen countless families destroyed. Do you want to see the Chen family meet the same end?”

“Don’t try to make me feel guilty with grand principles. I only ask you: are you still going to toy with me?” Chen Guanlou refused to be sidetracked—don’t try to bind him with righteousness.

Seeing Chen Guanlou unmoved, the Marquis sighed. “No playing. I’ve merely withheld some truths. You’ve refused to join in—so naturally, I couldn’t tell you.”

That was the truth.

Chen Guanlou nodded, satisfied. “So the assassinations were indeed your idea—staged, faked?”

“What faking? Were the assassinations real? Was my injury real? Were the assassins real? All of it is real—where’s the fake? You’ve misunderstood.” The Marquis chuckled. “You always assume everything must be planned. But often, things need no plan—only a thought, and the right people to carry it out. Flexibility ensures secrecy. Early planning risks leaks.”

His words revealed much.

Chen Guanlou pondered carefully. “Have you achieved your goal?”

“Almost. According to my sources, court and palace officials will arrive by tomorrow at the latest.”

Chen Guanlou didn’t care about that. He asked again: “Can I return to the capital? My staying here serves no purpose.”

“You underestimate yourself,” the Marquis smiled. “Your ideas are original and often valuable. If you wish, I’ll recommend you for a provincial post. If you’re reluctant to leave the capital, a posting there is also possible.”

“No thanks. I’m content where I am. I have no plans to change positions. One question: will you return to the capital to observe mourning?”

The Marquis countered: “Do you think I should return?”

“I don’t know!” Chen Guanlou was honest. “By filial duty, you must return. That’s basic humanity. But by current circumstances, returning now could undo all your efforts and schemes over the past years. Nothing matters more than life and death! I believe everything must yield to survival. If staying in the northwest benefits the situation and preserves your life, then don’t go.”

Deep down, Chen Guanlou clearly favored not returning to the capital.

Special circumstances demand special handling.

What would he even do by going back now? Seek death?

The Marquis seemed pleased with his answer. “You’re truly perceptive! As a filial son, it’s hard for me to avoid returning. The Emperor staged this—even resorted to poisoning—to force me back.

If I stubbornly remain in the northwest, he’ll devise other schemes. But if I return as he wishes, he’ll still have his next move. Either way, I’m trapped in his calculations. To have one’s life held hostage by others is unbearable!”

“So that’s why you orchestrated all this? Disturbing the imperial mausoleum, the assassinations?” Chen Guanlou asked.

The Marquis slowly shook his head. “The shifting tides of circumstance are beyond my calculation. You overestimate me.”

Chen Guanlou chuckled.

Pure nonsense.

These court elders never spoke a single true word.

“What’s your next move?” Chen Guanlou asked.

The Marquis sighed; his wound pained him, making focus difficult. After a long pause, he said: “When the capital’s envoys arrive, you return to the capital. I am gravely ill, must rest in bed, and cannot be moved. Do you understand?”

Chen Guanlou nodded, then shook his head. “Disturbing the imperial mausoleum is a grave offense—the Emperor won’t let it go. He’ll eventually trace it back to the northwest. Even without evidence, he’ll fixate on you, on the Hou Fu. Using your injury to delay your return only buys time. He’ll find a way to force you back. You can’t escape.”

“Hahaha…” The Marquis laughed loudly, wincing as his wounds pulled. “You’re right—the Emperor will force me back. Then, I’ll simply comply.”

Chen Guanlou was stunned. “You’ll return to the capital?”

“I must return eventually—but not now.” The Marquis’s expression relaxed. He slowly closed his eyes, calm and confident—as if every move was already calculated, every outcome planned.

He didn’t plan the small details—but he planned the grand direction.

Chen Guanlou raised an eyebrow. “So your game isn’t just large—it’s been played for years. The Emperor may be arrogant, erratic, and dim-witted. But his advisor Xie Heling is no fool—he’s adaptable and resourceful. He controls the court’s resources. When you played your game, did you account for him?”

“Everyone near the Emperor deserves attention!” The Marquis said slowly, his eyes half-open. “Since you refuse to join, don’t pry too deeply. To preserve yourself, you must remain blind and deaf. Do you understand?”