Qin Mu’s face stiffened—words of reprimand he’d intended to unleash caught in his throat.

Xia Chen pulled him aside, whispering, “Sir, I know the process bent rules, but rest easy—once the Leader of Court Gentlemen hears this, he’ll be over the moon. Not only will he not blame you, he might even ride this merit to climb higher!”

Xia Chen grinned, shedding the cold Shura mask from work—pure warmth now.

Though Qin Mu was just a commandant, he was Xia Chen’s superior. A sharp mind, Xia Chen knew the game.

Politics thrived on allies aplenty, enemies few—unite all you could. At the clutch moment, loyal hands would hoist you to the top.

Qin Mu’s eyes lit—before he could speak, Xia Chen pressed, “They’re nabbed, no rush now. How about we head to the Leader together?”

His smile dazzled.

…

“What? You’re saying the Inspectorate spies stole the defense map?”

Leader of Court Gentlemen Li Wenzhong shot up, tea splashing his robes, stunned by Xia Chen’s words.

Qin Mu gaped beside him. The map theft—a capital uproar he knew well—had tasked their guard to aid the Lamplighters.

Everyone assumed the Imperial City Division nabbed it.

Even the Lamplighters thought so.

Now Xia Chen spun a new tale.

“From my intel, today’s captives orchestrated it—they’re in custody; a review will tell all.

“Even if the map’s not their doing, they’re nailed as Inspectorate spies—either way, it’s a big win for us!”

Xia Chen reported respectfully. Li Wenzhong sank back, calming, but a grin soon crept unstoppable across his face.

If the Inspectorate truly stole it, this was a colossal coup.

Even if Xia Chen goofed, nabbing spies was still a triumph—no loss either way.

Just…

“We might ruffle the Lamplighters—can you handle their heat, sir?”

Before Li Wenzhong could voice his qualms, Xia Chen cut in.

Li Wenzhong’s eyes flickered. The Lamplighters, outside court sway, wielded vast clout. The map’s loss already marred their name—if the Inspectorate did it, another blunder loomed.

Their massive merit would come stomping the Lamplighters’ pride!

“No matter—we’re the Emperor’s guard; the Lamplighters don’t rule here. Besides, we’ve every right to step in—aboveboard!”

Li Wenzhong wavered briefly, then steeled. A prize this fat in his jaws—he’d be a fool to flinch.

The Lamplighters’ might was towering—did he, Li Wenzhong, lack pull?

“Don’t spread this yet—crack their tongues loose, secure the proof. I’ll head to the palace later to seek His Majesty’s favor for us all!”

His last words landed on Xia Chen—this marquis lad proved savvier than expected, devoid of the brash swagger of youth.

Too seasoned.

Xia Chen had spoon-fed him glory—time to repay the favor.

Xia Chen smiled, saluting respectfully, “All at your command, General!”

A shrewd politico knew to slice the cake—feed the underlings, fatten the brass, never hog it solo.

History taught: lone gluttons met grim ends.

Xia Chen wouldn’t slip there.

Too green to tangle with the Lamplighters head-on, better to share the haul—let Li Wenzhong charge the front while he grew in the shadows.

Later clashes with them weren’t his tier yet.

Qin Mu stood aside, watching Xia Chen hash out the aftermath with Li Wenzhong so casually, a daze settling in.

He couldn’t help thinking of a line: At thirty-five that year, I stood there like a flunky!

No—wait—wasn’t he Xia Chen’s superior? Why were his subordinate and boss plotting away while he couldn’t get a word in?

But then—zero hassle, pure profit lying down? Too sweet. Might as well play wingman!

Qin Mu surrendered!

…

Xia Chen stepped from Li Wenzhong’s tent as Xia Hui marched in with men.

“How’d it go?”

“Sir, I smashed three hideouts, nabbed key figures—but the fourth was empty!”

Xia Chen sank into thought. He’d scored two; Xia Hui’s haul showed the Inspectorate caught wind late.

“Bring them in!”

He said no more—the prime opera performer was his. No loss this run.

Noon!

A tense air gripped the Feathered Forest Guard—top to bottom, nerves taut.

The Leader, usually sipping tea in his tent, popped out thrice, hitting the rear jail cells—emerging with an uncontainable grin.

“Must tie to Commander Xia’s morning haul!”

Many pieced it together.

Xia Chen stayed put in his tent, only tagging Li Wenzhong to grill the opera performers in “jail”—really just airtight rooms.

The court’s true lockups belonged to the Ministry of Justice and Lamplighters.

To speed intel, Xia Chen shared a handful of “Great Memory Restoration Techniques” to prod the captives into recalling the map heist.

He stepped back from that—post-lesson, the jail echoed with relentless screams, chilling listeners’ spines.

Guards wielding those tricks eyed Xia Chen with awe.

This new commander was a savage—cooking up such twisted torments. Even trained spies couldn’t hold out!