55: Chapter 55: Initial Intelligence Revealed, Empress Summoned

The sunlight felt warm on his shoulders as Chen Xuan walked back toward his residence at a steady pace.

Having just exchanged a few moves with that Female Sword Immortal, his body felt loose and his mind sharp.

As he walked, he thought to himself that the Capital was truly lively; experts were popping up one after another. He had just dodged rumors and gossip only to have someone show up at his door for a duel—it was more exhausting than working overtime in the modern world.

But he knew in his heart that these were all just surface-level distractions. The real trouble never came from opponents who stood out in the open.

He didn't head straight home, instead turning into a narrow alleyway.

High grey brick walls blocked out half the sky, and moss grew in the cracks between the stone slabs underfoot.

Walking to the end of the alley, he stopped before an unremarkable small courtyard and knocked: three light taps, two heavy, a brief pause, and then one final tap.

The door creaked open a crack. An eye scanned the outside, and after confirming it was him, the door was pulled open to let him in.

The room was simply furnished with a table, two chairs, and an oil lamp. A landscape painting hung on the wall; it looked ordinary, but it concealed a secret compartment behind it.

This was one of the several safehouses he had established in the Capital, specifically for sending and receiving messages. No more than three people knew about it.

Just as he sat down, a dark figure emerged from the side door, clad in night-traveler attire with a mask and hood, holding a paper tube sealed with wax. The person didn't speak, simply handing it over with both hands before bowing and retreating.

Chen Xuan opened the tube and pulled out a thin sheet of paper. The handwriting was small and neat, with only two lines written on it:

"Intelligence from palace eyes and ears reports that Your Majesty has recently made several inquiries regarding Chen Xuan's marriage and offspring. Her words were vague, suggesting some suspicion."

After reading it, he remained silent. His finger slowly brushed the tip of his nose as his gaze gradually darkened.

The Empress was eyeing this matter?

He had originally thought he had hidden it deep enough.

To others, getting married and having children was nothing more than a romantic affair. Who would ever think of System rewards?

But Empress Murong Wan was different. A woman who ascended the throne at twelve and took personal control of the government at fifteen, carving a path of blood through the imperial court, could not tolerate any deception.

She might not know the phrase 'More Children, More Blessings,' but she had certainly sensed that something was amiss.

Why would a mere commoner like Chen Xuan have a constant stream of extraordinary women by his side within just a few months?

Why did his strength always quietly improve after every 'success'? Why did he never crave power or form factions, yet always manage to stir up the winds and clouds at critical moments?

When a woman asks about marriage and children, it might sound like small talk, but it is actually a probe to find one's bottom line.

He held the note to the lamp's flame, watching it curl, blacken, and turn to ash before drifting to the floor.

The chirping of a bird came from outside—it was that old sparrow on the eaves, chirping a couple of times at this hour every day.

He glanced out the window. It was still early, but the clouds hung low as if it were about to rain.

He stood up, walked to the cabinet, opened the secret compartment, and took out a set of white robes.

Embroidered with silver thread in a cloud pattern, it was a gift from the Empress during his last visit to the palace, intended for formal occasions. He didn't put it on immediately, but held it in his hands for a moment, his fingertips tracing the fine stitching.

These clothes were both an honor and a shackle. Putting them on meant he was no longer a street-side idler, but a subject standing under the gaze of imperial power. Every move he made would be scrutinized.

He sat under the lamp and began to think of a counter-strategy.

Deny it? Say he just had great luck with women? The Empress wouldn't believe that. She wanted control, not a joke.

Admit it? Even worse. Who knew if she would immediately order him under house arrest to study him like some exotic artifact?

The best way was to make her feel that he was willing to be controlled by her, but not to the point of being worthless.

He reviewed his recent words and actions to see if there were any slips.

Saving Leng Shuang and Zhao Hongling that day was too much of a coincidence, but at that time he hadn't yet experienced the Awakening of the System, so explaining it as an act of heroism made sense.

Later, cooperating with Dugu Xue on the northern border campaign was strictly official business. As for Liu Ruyan, it was currently just a personal acquaintance and hadn't involved court politics, so there were no fatal flaws for the time being.

But since the Empress had asked, it meant the seeds of suspicion had been planted. Every word and every action from now on had to be careful.

He stood up, took off his dusty martial attire, and changed into the white robes.

With a jade belt at his waist and black boots on his feet, his movements were crisp. He checked himself in the bronze mirror; his face still bore that lazy smile, with a hint of roguishness in his eyes, making him look like a spoiled noble Young Master.

Good, he would go see her looking like this.

He couldn't be too nervous, which would look like a guilty conscience; nor could he be too casual, which would seem disrespectful.

He had to make her feel that he was a martial artist who knew his place and knew who the true master of this world was.

He sat back in the chair and waited.

He knew the summons wouldn't be long.

Sure enough, in less than the time it takes for half an incense stick to burn, footsteps came from outside—steady and light, the mark of a messenger eunuch from the palace.

"By oral decree of Your Majesty, Chen Xuan is requested to enter the palace for an audience immediately."

The voice was neither high nor low, perfectly following protocol.

He gave a response, stood up to straighten his sleeves, and pushed the door open.

A sedan chair was already prepared outside. Four Attendants stood with their hands down on either side; seeing him emerge, they all bowed their heads in greeting.

He didn't say much and stepped into the sedan. The curtain fell, the sedan was lifted, and it slowly began to move toward the Imperial Palace.

The streets along the way were bustling with vendors shouting and children chasing each other; the lives of the common people went on as usual.

But the closer they got to the Imperial City, the more solemn the atmosphere became.

The streets widened and pedestrians thinned out. Detachments of the Imperial Guards marched in formation, their armor reflecting the light and their blades drawn three inches from their scabbards.

He lifted a corner of the curtain to look out. The twilight was deepening on the horizon, and purple-gold clouds drifted past the palace walls like an overturned jar of rouge.

The palace gates came into view—vermilion paint and golden studs, towering and stern. The sedan stopped, and he stepped out, his feet making a crisp sound on the bluestone of the Imperial Path.

A eunuch came forward holding an identification token. After verifying his identity, the eunuch bowed and led the way: "Your Majesty is waiting for you in the Main Hall."

He nodded and followed.

Beneath his feet were stones laid a century ago, each one worn smooth and reflecting the dark red glow of the sunset.

Palace lanterns were lit one by one, their flickering flames casting long shadows.

He walked steadily with his back straight, that slight smile still on his lips, as if he weren't going to see the Empress but rather heading to a tea session with an old friend.

But only he knew that his heart was beating half a beat faster than usual.

Just as he stepped onto the final stair, he suddenly stopped.

He glanced back at the horizon.

Only a sliver of the setting sun remained, wedged between distant mountains like a piece of red-hot iron.

He reached up to touch his chin, then lowered his hand.

Then he turned and stepped into the shadows of the Great Hall.