The Empress's No.1 Lackey

The moonlight was cold and clear, and peace was restored on the long street once more.

With the Magician's Divine Soul restrained, the battle had come to an end.

"What is this?"

Zhao Douan dropped the hilt of his knife, his tightly strung muscles relaxed, and a large buildup of lactic acid caused his muscles to ache faintly.

Killing with one stroke seemed smooth but was not easy.

The cost of a high burst of energy was the instantaneous consumption of most of his energy, and his fragile meridians as a mortal Martial Artist endured a pressure that should not exist at this realm.

The energy was too harsh—it hurt him!

"Swallow this."

The young girl in dark priest robes seriously tied a yellow-skinned gourd around her waist; the colorful ghost face on its surface seemed to be slumbering.

She turned back and added,

"A Suppressing Object."

Her tone was as if she was saying, "Grass, a type of plant."

"Like a Magic Artifact?" Zhao Douan used a familiar concept for comparison.

Jin Jian "hmm-ed" in agreement and said,

"Similar, but slightly different. Magic Artifacts can only be made by humans, similar to swords, and are mostly held by Martial Artists.

However, Suppressing Objects have a spiritual essence, encompassing both man-made and natural, often possessing strange abilities mostly under the control of Magicians."

Learning is useless... Zhao Douan humbly asked for advice,

"So, this strongman, the gourd, and your Magic Wand, are all man-made Suppressing Objects, right? What are the natural ones?"

Jin Jian first nodded, indicating his guess was right, then said,

"For natural ones... for instance, the placenta and fetal hairs.

After a baby is born, the placenta must be destroyed immediately or hidden; otherwise, if a Magician finds it, they could use it to perform a deadly curse. It's quite powerful."

She spoke in a tone seriously reminiscent of reciting a textbook.

This made Zhao Douan recall those top-grade little girls from his school days.

"I see..."

Jin Jian shifted her gaze slightly guiltily,

"This person is quite formidable, even among those at the Divine Chapter Realm, and such a minor case should not involve a Magician of this level."

It's like you're explaining why you didn't protect me just now... Zhao Douan glanced at her, not wanting to tear her down.

Zhu Dian had high potential and was thus accepted by the Heavenly Master; before "graduating," his absolute strength was not strong.

But this is indeed strange...

If it were just about bribing the Zhang brothers and kidnapping a few firework craftsmen... Despite the severity, it involves the conflict between the imperial power and the "Eight Princes."

But the case itself is, in fact, minor.

Just sending a few insignificant people would be completely sufficient, at most involving those at the "mortal" realm.

Including Sun Lianying, none would have expected a Magician from the "Divine Chapter" Realm to appear.

Using a cannon to kill a mosquito... Unless, Prince Jing Mansion has other motives, or perhaps, this Magician had other hidden reasons for lurking in the Capital.

Zhao Douan shared his speculations.

Jin Jian "hmm-ed" again, her expression serious as she said,

"This person possesses a legacy linked to my Heavenly Master Mansion; I need to take him back for investigation, and if the court requires it, he can be transferred later."

This matter had exceeded her authority and required reporting to the elders inside the mansion, and perhaps even to the Old Heavenly Master.

"That's fine." Zhao Douan didn't mind, after all, the person was defeated by Jin Jian.

If handed to him instead, it would be troublesome—who knows what other tricks the Magician might have.

Martial Artists were better, simple and pure, with direct solutions.

"I'll take him away first, then come back to find you."

Jin Jian squatted down, her small hands lifting the black-robed Magician's body, speaking in the tone of reciting a book.

Preparing to leave.

Zhao Douan, with great interest, noticed that beneath the young girl's mysterious and ethereal appearance was some bookish nerdiness, not so aloof.

"...Okay," he nodded, the danger was gone, and he no longer needed her protection.

Suddenly remembering something, he quickly asked,

"By the way, do you know where Zhang Changshuo has gone?"

...

...

"Huff... Huff..."

Heaving breaths.

His heartbeat pounded like a drum.

Under the cover of night, clad in a stinking hemp robe with one shoe missing, Zhang Changshuo ran frantically through the darkness.

The faint starlight shone down, illuminating his face filled with panic and fear, his forehead studded with beads of sweat.

After the array's transport, he unexpectedly appeared in an empty house and, terrified, hid in a pile of firewood.

He actually survived the first wave of searches by the Jinyi.

Once the government officers were drawn away and the silence set in, he cautiously emerged, discerned the direction, and fled frantically.

Pitifully a frail scholar, accustomed to taking carriages and riding horses out of the city—how could he run?

Finally making it to the designated meeting spot, he was drenched in sweat and nearly powerless.

"Master? Is it you, Master?"

On a secluded street corner, a carriage waited.

At that moment, a servant of the Zhang family clutched the whip, looking at the approaching figure and calling softly.

He was the other person who had driven the "feces cart" earlier.

According to Zhang Changshuo's arrangements, after the two disguised themselves and left the estate, Zhang Changshuo went to carry out his task.

The servant went to rent a carriage to wait here, circle around, and then take Zhang Changshuo back home.

That way, even if someone noticed he had been out, as long as his tracks weren't discovered, it wouldn't matter.

"Help me, help me onto the carriage..." Zhang Changshuo gasped for breath.

The servant, shocked, eagerly helped him into the carriage:

"Master, what happened to you?"

Being a servant, he was unaware of his master's whereabouts, thinking he had been handling private affairs.

"Stop talking, let's go!"

"Oh, alright, are we returning home now?"

"Don't! We can't go back!"

Inside the carriage, Zhang Changshuo caught his breath, his face extremely pale, and after a moment of thought, said:

"Go to the West City Gate! Quick!"

When Zhao Douan surrounded him with soldiers, the torchlight illuminated his face, signaling his doom.

Merely the charge of "colluding with suspicious magicians and martial artists" was enough to have him arrested and investigated.

Thus, he absolutely couldn't go home now, nor could he seek refuge at a friend's mansion; the best way was to leave the city as quickly as possible while the news had not yet spread.

Even though the city gates would be closed after nightfall, as "White Horse Governor," he still had some privileges.

It should not be difficult if he claimed to be on a mission for the Saint to deceive the soldiers into opening the city gate.

Next, he simply needed to find a place to hide and wait for news.

"The best scenario is for those at the Prince Jing Mansion to have fled or all to have perished. Without any living witnesses, even if there are suspicions, the Empress can't convict explicitly; otherwise, it would spur fear and resistance among the court officials and warriors..."

"As long as there's no definitive conviction, there's room to maneuver. My father and uncle could mediate in the middle."

"The worst case scenario would be to flee to Jiancheng Road and seek refuge under Prince Jing. Even if I lose my value, Prince Jing, to avoid disheartening the others, would still treat me well!"

The carriage rattled, speeding along the cold streets.

Inside the rattling carriage, Zhang Changshuo anxiously pondered, his thoughts gradually clarifying.

It was then he remembered to take off the stinking hemp robe, wad it up, and toss it out of the shaking carriage window, replacing it with a clean long shirt prepared inside.

After completing these tasks, he clenched his fists, his mind in turmoil, his fingernails nearly digging into his flesh.

In his mind, the events of the day flickered like a revolving lantern.

Finally, it froze on a face he deeply detested, a handsome visage.

"Zhao! Dou! An!"

Zhang Changshuo squeezed out this name through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with rage.

Up to this moment, he still didn't believe that today's deadly trap was orchestrated solely by the Zhao surnamed; he thought it was led by the Imperial Court.

It must have been Ma Yan who first detected clues, intending to startle the snake by beating the grass, with Zhao Douan merely cast out as a decoy to paralyze him.

Even if this speculation couldn't explain why Zhao Douan was leading the government officers in the arrest instead of an Imperial Court official.

"A gentleman's revenge, ten years is not too late; once I escape to Prince Jing's side, the time of regime change will be the day of my return."

Zhang Changshuo's heart soared as he imagined his revenge, his blood boiling with excitement.

Suddenly, the horse neighed, accompanied by a low cry from the house servant and a dull thud.

After a violent jolt, the speeding carriage was forcibly brought to a stop.

"Ah—" Zhang Changshuo, thrown in disarray, barely sat up and angrily shouted:

"How do you drive... Ah!"

His scolding abruptly ceased.

The dusty curtain was lifted by a well-proportioned man's hand, as moonlight spilled down, illuminating the newcomer's features.

Zhao Douan, smiling and squinting, gazed gently at his old friend:

"Brother Zhang, it's quite late, where were you going?"