Chapter 5: Shen Lian's Resentment

“Sir.” Lin Guo, just turned twenty, immediately stood up straight.

“Why have I heard nothing about the investigation I assigned to you?” Wang Lu, sitting on the desk, asked.

“The people at the Directorate of Internal Affairs are very alert. My men were discovered, so I just replaced them with newcomers to follow up. There’s no report yet,” Lin Guo replied.

Wang Lu took a sip from the bottom of his bowl. “I told you to report every three days, but it’s been four already. Even if it’s a newcomer, you should at least tell me the outcome.”

With a furrowed brow, Wang Lu asked coldly, “Were you waiting for me to ask?”

“I wouldn’t dare!” Lin Guo immediately cupped his fists and bowed his head, his attitude exceedingly respectful, swallowing nervously.

Wang Lu frowned and lifted his chin. “Go get a ten-army baton. Tonight and tomorrow night, you’ll take the watch shift for Yue Qian.”

Lin Guo hesitated, unsure why Wang Lu wanted him to keep an eye on Guo Zhen, the chief eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs.

That man was practically the emperor’s personal servant; watching him was almost the same as watching the emperor himself.

If anything went wrong, death was inevitable.

Besides, it had only been a day late—why make such a fuss?

Yet in the end, Lin Guo dared not say a word.

Within the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Wang Lu’s rank wasn’t high, and common folk hardly knew his name.

But for officers like them, the rank of a hundred households was suffocatingly powerful.

Moreover, Wang Lu hated being talked back to.

Talking back was one thing; punishment would be doubled.

Sometimes he would personally administer it.

A single blow from Wang Lu’s baton was worth three from the executioner.

There was a notorious case where a prisoner died from just one strike by Wang Lu’s baton; few dared openly oppose him unless they had backing.

His strength and tactics earned his men profound respect and fear.

Wang Lu put down his bowl, and someone immediately stepped forward with a flattering smile to take it for washing.

“Tomorrow is the Ghost Festival. Be more careful,” Wang Lu paced and said, “The emperor fell into the water before, so there must be traitors plotting chaos. If you make a mistake, I’ll be the first to send you to the imperial prison personally.”

The three men in the room instantly straightened their backs.

“Yes!” they shouted in unison.

Wang Lu stepped outside, squinting slightly against the bright sun.

The Tianqi Emperor had indeed fallen into the water again.

He had originally hoped to use the opportunity to save the emperor, but he couldn’t even get into the palace.

Still, he knew the fall was a plot by Guo Zhen and the Donglin faction, so he had someone follow Guo Zhen, waiting for him to slip up.

What happened next would depend entirely on the mission briefing.

“Why hasn’t the mission arrived yet?” Wang Lu leaned against the doorframe, squinting against the sunlight.

After eight years, his Xinyou saber technique had improved somewhat but nowhere near as fast as his tactical deductions.

Wang Lu was beginning to despair—why was it so hard to improve by practicing alone?

As he grumbled, the sound of footsteps and armor scraping echoed at the door.

Wang Lu looked up and saw a familiar figure.

“Shen Lian.”

Wang Lu stepped forward. “What brings you here today?”

“Lu Wenzhao sent for you,” Shen Lian said in his usual expressionless tone.

“Alright, let’s go,” Wang Lu said, affectionately slinging an arm around Shen Lian. “Haven’t sparred with you in half a month. Want to practice together later?”

Shen Lian’s gaze was strangely fixed on Wang Lu.

Noticing this, Wang Lu asked, “Why are you staring like that? You don’t fancy men, do you?”

Shen Lian nearly choked on his saliva and said helplessly, “If you keep talking nonsense, I’m leaving now.”

Wang Lu smiled slyly. “Who told you to look at me like that?”

Shen Lian’s mouth twitched downward. “My ‘Lian’ means forging iron, not practicing martial arts. You keep challenging me to real fights, and the wounds you leave on me could rival those I got on the frontier army.”

Wang Lu laughed. “We Embroidered Uniform Guards have our heads tied to our waistbands. If you don’t practice more, what will you do if you meet someone better than you?”

“Hmph,” Shen Lian said proudly, “One-on-one, I’ve never met a match.”

Wang Lu clicked his tongue and glanced sideways. “Then how do you explain all those wounds on you?”

“You’re crazy. I’m not. Besides, those wounds are only superficial. If I went all out with you, you wouldn’t know how many times you’d have died.”

At the courtyard gate, Shen Lian stopped.

“Why? Not coming with me?” Wang Lu asked.

“He only called you,” Shen Lian replied concisely.

“Fine, I’ll come find you when I get back.”

Wang Lu went alone to the thousand-household office where Lu Wenzhao was.

Shen Lian watched Wang Lu’s retreating figure, surprised.

In the capital, the only person who could spar evenly with him was Wang Lu.

He had said before that if he truly fought seriously, Wang Lu wouldn’t stand a chance.

But in truth, even he couldn’t be sure who would survive if they fought to the death.

The Wang Lu after the Battle of Sarhu was a world apart from the one who returned to the army.

Originally, his saber technique was just the common Xinyou saber style.

This was a two-handed saber style created by Qi Wuyi, based on the battlefield-captured “Yinliu Catalogue.”

Many soldiers practiced it.

But Shen Lian had never seen anyone wield it as masterfully as Wang Lu.

At Sarhu, Wang Lu’s technique was fierce, but mostly in form.

Less than a day after returning to the army, Wang Lu sought him out for sparring.

At that time, Wang Lu seemed to have a sudden enlightenment, possessing truly advanced skill.

Except for some inexperience in combat, in Shen Lian’s eyes, Wang Lu’s martial arts were no longer inferior to his own.

He had told Wang Lu this.

Then Wang Lu began a long journey of challenges, making Shen Lian both love and hate him.

Sparring was common, but Wang Lu challenged him almost every few days.

Shen Lian was the biggest victim of Wang Lu’s battlefield skill refinement.

His own saber technique had little room for improvement.

His moves were basically set.

To improve further, it required life-or-death trials or sudden enlightenment.

He lacked such insight and did not want to risk his life again.

If compared, Wang Lu was the rising sun, and he was the setting one.

The problem was Wang Lu fought others too, but those matches were like slicing through melons—no challenge.

So Shen Lian was left to endure Wang Lu’s relentless torment.

“Sir, shall we head back?” came the reminder from the slightly flushed young banner officer Yin Cheng behind him.

Shen Lian nodded and turned to leave, though his expressionless face creased slightly.

“Drink less. Don’t you know how many complaints have been filed against you?” Yin Cheng stopped, angry. “Who’s tattling on me?”

Disappointment flickered in Shen Lian’s eyes as he walked away, leaving Yin Cheng stomping alone.

At the thousand-household office, Wang Lu stood outside, cupping his fists and announcing, “Embroidered Uniform Guard Captain Wang Lu pays respects to Lord Lu.”