A spring breeze set the carriage curtains whispering, silence reigning within.

“Why so grim, Uncle Li?”

Xia Chen gazed at Li Wenzhong, sighing.

“Do you know how many Dragon Martial Guard Generals have cycled through in these fifty years?”

Li Wenzhong’s voice was eerily calm, his eyes fathomless.

“A full eight in all! Five alone in the past twenty years!”

Xia Chen fell silent at the tally—five in under twenty years. Dragon Martial Guard General was indeed a deadly gig.

“These years, His Majesty’s grown harder to read—emotions veiled, suspicion swelling. The luckiest Dragon Martial Guard General was Zhao Qiang, thirty-odd years back—retired safe and sound. The rest? Homes razed!”

Li Wenzhong’s words were steady, yet carried a lethal chill.

The post dazzled—but peril matched its gleam.

“I get it, Uncle Li!”

Xia Chen nodded gravely, saying no more.

The carriage rolled on, wind chiming the bells with a crisp ring—Kyoto’s gusts picking up!

…

Xia Chen saw it—Li Wenzhong wasn’t betting solely on him, but on the Zhendong Marquis behind him.

Five Dragon Martial Guard Generals in twenty years—four years each, on average.

Li Wenzhong favored him, sure. But four years? Too short to sway the court or Emperor Wen.

He wagered on the Xia clan.

Li Wenzhong spoke to him, but really to the Xia house beyond.

Spilling secrets, baring flaws—it was a pledge of fealty.

…

As Xia Chen mused, the carriage jolted to a stop.

“Master, a carriage ahead blocks us—looks like the Third Prince’s emblem!”

The Li family’s old groom whispered.

Li Wenzhong frowned—his predecessor fell for cozying up to the Crown Prince.

Now the Third Prince loomed—a red flag for him.

“Make way—let them pass!”

Li Wenzhong’s voice sank, but no dice. Zhengde Street, a grand artery, could fit six carriages abreast—the other aimed straight for him.

Sure enough, a lavish carriage paused beside Li Wenzhong’s.

“Word is General Li’s rising high—I’m thrilled to hear it! Fancy meeting here—Deshun Building’s just ahead, the spot for court promotions. Why not join me for drinks, celebrate together?”

A curtain lifted, revealing a handsome youth—the Third Prince, grinning, last seen watching a show from White Moon Tower’s box.

Li Wenzhong knew evasion was futile. He parted his curtain, tone icy:

“Your Highness, urgent family matters hold me—Deshun Building’s off today. If I host a promotion feast, you’ll get an invite!”

Li Wenzhong shut him out cold. Court buzzed with the Crown Prince and Third Prince’s tussle—his spot too hot to risk tangling with the Third Prince. Unless he’d ditch Dragon Martial Guard General outright.

He was Emperor Wen’s man now—end of story!

“General Li’s overly cautious! I’ve admired you long—this is a public invite, not some backroom deal. My father’s broad-minded—would he suspect you over this?”

The Third Prince laughed, brash and free-spirited.

“Your Highness, family duties truly bind me today—no time!”

Li Wenzhong shook his head. The Third Prince meant trouble—private chats might warrant a talk, but on this street, with eyes everywhere, who’d dare dine?

“Surely not one of the general’s concubines about to give birth today?”

The Third Prince feigned curiosity, eyes glinting.

Li Wenzhong’s lip twitched, but he answered straight:

“My wife’s virtuous—our line’s thin. She’s set a matchmaking meet today for a concubine. Next year, one might bear fruit—I’ll invite Your Highness to the celebration then!”

Li Wenzhong clasped his fists, deadpan.

Xia Chen listened quietly, face twisting—Li Wenzhong just topped his wildest guesses.

The Third Prince froze speechless—aimed to trip Li Wenzhong up a bit, only to find, to his shock, that Li Wenzhong could field even this, spinning wilder tales than he could.

His gaze shifted, peering inside at Xia Chen.

“Well, a familiar face—Xia Chen of the Xia clan?”

“Greetings, Your Highness!”

Xia Chen saluted, staying put.

“You’re my second sister’s consort—family! No need for such formality!”

The Third Prince waved, all warmth.

“Young Master Xia, we’re kin—General Li’s too timid to drink with me over propriety. Why not you and I share a few cups instead?”

“Sure, family indeed—no need for distance! Call me brother-in-law, Your Highness—I’ll call you Your Highness. Each to his own—anything else feels stiff!”

Xia Chen beamed, arm out the window, as if to clasp the Third Prince’s hand.

The Third Prince’s lip twitched—neither Li Wenzhong nor Xia Chen played by the book today.

Especially Xia Chen—zero chill.

Brother-in-law? He, twenty, outranked by this seventeen-year-old? How could he choke that out?

Yet by lineage, Xia Chen was his brother-in-law!

Damn it!

The Third Prince cursed inwardly—blaming his fickle father for this generational mess.

He eyed Xia Chen’s head poking out, that handsome face stoking more silent gripes.

Not just leeching rank—this kid outshone him in looks too?

Jealousy gnawed—he owned it.

Still, he forced a stiff smile at Xia Chen’s youthful mug.

“Brother-in-law!”

“Your Highness!”

Xia Chen’s grin blazed, saluting back.

This palace trip turned out quite fruitful after all—snagging a little brother-in-law. Only this little brother-in-law’s ambitions run wild, huh! Daring even more to launch the Gate-Seizing Coup, slaughter his brother and slay his father—a ruthless fiend!