When Chu Yuqin saw the Desert Eagle in Lu Chen's hand, she was momentarily stunned. After all, this was no ordinary weapon—it was capable of allowing even an untrained person to instantly kill a ninth-grade warrior.
Noticing her curiosity, Lu Chen smiled and handed her the Desert Eagle, making sure to remove the magazine first.
Chu Yuqin took the weapon in her hands and gently ran her fair fingers along its surface, carefully inspecting it. Her eyes were filled with wonder. How could something so small hold the power to kill a ninth-grade warrior?
"Amazing craftsmanship…" she murmured, then turned to Lu Chen and asked, "Chen'er, where did you get this weapon?"
As a seasoned warrior, Chu Yuqin had seen her fair share of weapons. The moment she held this one, she could tell that both the materials used and the precision of its construction were extraordinary—far beyond what was normally available in the Great Xia Dynasty. In fact, even the royal family might not possess the means to create something so advanced.
Although Lu Chen had survived thanks to this mysterious weapon, Chu Yuqin couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. She had always taken it upon herself to protect Lu Chen, but someone else had managed to get close enough to supply him with such a powerful item. What if that person hadn't intended to help, but to harm him instead? The mere thought was terrifying.
Lu Chen chuckled lightly. "Aunt Chu, if I told you I commissioned the parts myself and assembled it on my own, would you believe me?"
Chu Yuqin gave him a flat look and snorted. "I may be your aunt, but I'm not a fool."
Feigning maturity, Lu Chen folded his arms and said solemnly, "Aunt Chu, I'm a man now. Isn't it normal for men to have a few secrets of their own?"
He meant it as a joke, but upon hearing those words, Chu Yuqin fell silent.
Ever since Lu Chen lost his mother at the age of ten, Chu Yuqin had been like a second mother to him—raising him, caring for him, and treating him as her own. Even now, though he was sixteen and married, in her eyes he was still that little boy she once held in her arms.
Seeing her expression, Lu Chen tilted his head and asked, "Aunt Chu? What's wrong? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"
Snapping out of her daze, Chu Yuqin offered a soft smile and handed the Desert Eagle back to him. "No, Chen'er. You're right. You've grown up. You're a man now. I shouldn't keep treating you like a child."
Her voice then turned serious. "But I must remind you—the person who gave you this weapon surely has a bigger plan in mind. Be cautious. And whatever you do, never let others find out about these weapons. If word spreads, even when you reach Beijun, assassins from the martial world will come after you endlessly."
Lu Chen nodded calmly. "I understand, Aunt Chu. Don't worry. I know what's at stake."
Chu Yuqin gave him an approving nod. "Good. Now go check on Zixuan and the others."
With that, she turned and walked away, heading toward Li Feng and the soldiers.
Li Feng and his men were currently clearing the battlefield of bodies. When he saw Chu Yuqin approaching, he immediately stepped forward. "Madam Chu, is His Highness alright?"
"He's fine," Chu Yuqin replied calmly.
She paused for a moment, then added, "General Li, I hope that you and your men can forget everything you saw today."
Li Feng understood immediately.
She was clearly referring to the scene where the Northern King—someone thought to be useless—had effortlessly killed a ninth-grade warrior.
Rumors in the capital had long painted the Northern King as a foolish, martial-arts-ignorant prince who knew little besides indulgence and pleasure. When Mu Changtian first asked him to escort Lu Chen to Beijun to take over his fiefdom, Li Feng had been reluctant. But now, after what he had witnessed, those rumors seemed laughable.
A ninth-grade warrior, just gone—killed in an instant.
And not just that. Earlier, an eighth-grade warrior had been taken out at a long distance. Even Li Feng, with his skills as an archer, doubted he could achieve that. Eighth-grade warriors had spiritual energy in their bodies, allowing them to tense their muscles and trap incoming arrows. Yet the Northern King had blown off the man's head without even moving from the ground.
The implications were terrifying.
How could someone with such a weapon not be a threat? And more importantly, why would such a person be willing to go to a remote fiefdom like Beijun instead of vying for the throne?
Li Feng's mind raced. He even began to worry that the Northern King might decide to silence them just to keep his secrets buried.
After Chu Yuqin's warning, she turned and left.
As she walked away, a soldier near Li Feng leaned in and whispered, "General… we won't be silenced once we reach Beijun, will we?"
The rest of the soldiers—elite members of the Tiger Guards—shared the same concern. They knew what it meant to possess a weapon capable of killing a ninth-grade expert with such ease. It wasn't just a weapon—it was a declaration of power.
In their eyes, the Northern King was no longer a powerless prince. He was someone with a grand scheme.
And if he really had such plans, then eliminating those who knew his secret… wasn't that to be expected?
Li Feng quickly composed himself and snapped, "Don't talk nonsense!"
He took a breath and added, "We're Duke Mu's men. Duke Mu is His Highness's father-in-law. He has no reason to harm us."
At those words, the soldiers looked at each other and slowly relaxed. That's right—Duke Mu's daughter was now the Northern King's princess. They were all from Duke Mu's camp. Why would he kill his own people?
Still, Li Feng couldn't shake the unease in his heart.
Even if we are Duke Mu's men… we're also Tiger Guards of the Great Xia. Once we escort the Northern King to Beijun, we're expected to return to the capital. Would he really allow us to walk away, knowing what we saw today?
He couldn't be sure.
But there was nothing else they could do. For now, they could only wait until they reached Beijun… and find out for themselves what kind of person the Northern King truly was.
After clearing the scene, Lu Chen and the convoy resumed their journey toward Beijun.
—
A few hours later
Inside a quiet restaurant, Lu Shuyun sat by the window, his expression pensive as he waited for news.
Something felt off.
By now, those he had sent should have returned. But there had been no word. Not a whisper.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and a man in grey robes stumbled in, panic written all over his face. He dropped to his knees before Lu Shuyun.
"Your Highness! Terrible news!"
Lu Shuyun's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
The man swallowed hard and replied, "The Blood Moon Tower's operation… failed. Not a single one of their people returned. Even the two ninth-grade masters they sent are dead."
"The tower's master is furious. He believes we deceived him and is demanding compensation!"
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