Inside the tent!
Xia Chen scrutinized Qian Nan without speaking for a long moment, causing cold sweat to break out instantly on Qian Nan's forehead.
As Qian Nan's heart pounded with dread, a calm voice reached his ears.
"Stand up!"
"Thank you, sir!"
Qian Nan's tension eased, the oppressive weight lifting. In that brief instant, it had felt like years.
He sensed this new commander's presence outstripped even the Leader of Court Gentlemen's—a fearsome aura.
"Is this the caliber of a legitimate son from the Marquis of Zhendong's household? Such poise is extraordinary!"
Qian Nan marveled inwardly.
"How did the patrol go?"
"All's well. We encountered a theft mid-route and already sent the thief to the Ministry of Justice's prison!"
Qian Nan replied respectfully.
Xia Chen posed more questions—mostly about the Feathered Forest Guard's duties and key details. Though he knew the broad strokes, he sought specifics.
"The capital's been restless lately. Daqing spies are surfacing, and we've been ordered to assist the Lamplighters in rooting them out swiftly!"
Qian Nan raised a matter that caught Xia Chen's ear.
The Lamplighters were a unique organization in Dawu—outside the cabinet and the Six Ministries, independent of civil and martial hierarchies, answering only to the Emperor.
Much like the Jinyiwei from Xia Chen's Ming Dynasty memories.
Xia Chen nodded thoughtfully, probing no further.
The Imperial Guard held sway, but in peacetime, their capital clout wasn't as grand as imagined.
At least, when cases or enemy spies arose, the Emperor turned first to the Lamplighters, then the Ministry of Justice or Dali Temple. The Feathered Forest Guard mostly assisted—or stepped in last to arrest and raid once matters settled.
…
Noon!
Xia Chen treated his colleagues and subordinates to a meal at Tongfu Building. His peers gave face aplenty.
Nearly all free of duties showed up.
By the end, even Li Wenzhong and Qin Mu arrived, startling Xia Chen's colleagues. Seasoned capital players, they grasped the weight of this scene.
Their respect deepened, toasts flowing eagerly.
While Xia Chen basked in triumph, the Marquis of Jinwu's household in the capital erupted.
"Young Master, Young Master, what's wrong!"
At an imposing gate, guards spotted Zhao Yu from afar, borne back by house soldiers.
Zhao Yu looked wretched—arms limp, back a bloody ruin, unconscious.
The rushing guard paled. Such wounds would've killed a lesser man; only Zhao Yu's martial cultivation kept him breathing.
The once-quiet Marquis of Jinwu's residence buzzed—servants and maids scurried.
Some dashed to East City, summoning Xuanji Clinic's finest doctor.
"My son!"
Zhao Yu's mother, Lady Zhao, the Marquis's wife, raced into the room, beholding her comatose son on the bed.
"Who did this? Such viciousness—utter disregard for our house!"
She snapped at the guards trailing Zhao Yu, tears welling mid-rant. He'd left hale that morning—how'd he return carried?
Enemy spies, perhaps?
"Lady!"
The guards knelt, confessing all in detail.
"That brat's so ruthless to a fellow officer! Our house ranks among the martial elite—such callousness demands my husband impeach him!"
Lady Zhao's eyes blazed after hearing. Breaking her son's arms, delivering 100 lashes, then banishing him from the guard—was there no justice?
Outrageous!
"Enough!"
A middle-aged man entered, frowning at his thunderous wife.
"Husband, you must avenge Yu'er! That wretch nearly crippled him!"
Seeing Marquis Zhao Yue, Lady Zhao seized his arm, dragging him to Zhao Yu's bedside, weeping.
Zhao Yue's gaze hardened at his son's state, yet he stayed level-headed.
"His own doing. I hauled him into my study yesterday, laid out the stakes clear—don't clash with that Xia kid. He's his direct superior now; crushing him's a cinch.
"I even said I'd secure him another commander post later. But this fool still picked a fight—and with such crude tactics, utterly brainless!"
Fury flickered in Zhao Yue's eyes. Compared to his elder sons, this youngest lagged in wits and skill.
Hardly Zhao blood.
Else, with a marquis's lineage, at over twenty, how'd he linger as a mere brigade commander?
Lady Zhao paled under his tirade.
Still defiant, she pressed, "Yes, Yu'er started it, but we're martial peers—family, you could say.
"Can't conflicts be settled calmly? Must he strike so brutally? Without Yu'er's Eighth-Rank, those 100 lashes could've killed him!"
Marquis Zhao's eyes flashed fiercely, but reason soon prevailed.
"Barracks aren't casual affairs. He挑ed a power play on the kid's first day—if Xia didn't crush him, how'd he hold sway in the guard? From the moment this fool rallied trouble, it couldn't end well!"
Zhao Yue spoke calmly. Though his title was inherited, he'd led troops and knew the stakes.
Disappointment gnawed at him—his son's approach too crude. In his shoes, he'd never openly defy a new superior day one.
That Xia kid held the high ground by rank. Subtle sabotage, a big fall—those were the moves.
"So it's over? He banished Yu'er outright—does a petty commander have that power?"
Lady Zhao raged.
"Enough! I'll handle it. He lacks that authority, but your fool son handed him every charge. Reported up, the outcome's the same.
"Lie low—no targeting him. His case is tricky; the Emperor's eyes might be on him. Understood?"
Marquis Zhao warned sternly.
"U-understood!"
Seeing her reluctance, he sighed. His eldest and second sons took after him—did this youngest inherit all her folly?
Not a shred of his cunning!