Chapter 59: Who Is It, Really?

The imperial inspector Yu Fuguo wore a dark expression, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Shangguan Wei found such two-faced people utterly detestable, but appearances had to be maintained.

“Your reminder is noted, Inspector. Has that Long Cheng’en arrived yet?” Shangguan Wei asked.

Shangguan Xiu replied, “He has. He came with the Fourth Princess.”

When Shangguan Mu heard the name Long Cheng’en, a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder. He had learned that it was Long Cheng’en who had loosed that arrow—same spot, same technique. Shangguan Mu was eighty percent certain that Long Cheng’en was, in fact, Long Chen.

But this was something he dared not say aloud. If Li Chengdao were to discover that the Long clan had not been wiped out and that they had taken Linjiang City right from under the Shangguan family’s nose, there would be hell to pay.

“That damned eunuch—whatever trick he used last time, he managed to blow up Linjiang City, and then rebuilt it in no time at all. Truly infuriating!” Shangguan Wei hurled these veiled insults at Yu Fuguo.

Yu Fuguo was no fool; he could plainly hear the pointed barbs in Shangguan Wei’s words, but could do little about it. After all, the Shangguan family was still powerful at court, and the Heavenly Might Legion remained intact.

“General Shangguan, His Majesty demands that I ascertain Long Cheng’en’s true identity. This is an imperial decree—it cannot be delayed,” Yu Fuguo said coldly. “There’s been much gossip at court, claiming Long Cheng’en is likely a remnant of the Long clan. If that’s true—if Long Ye is dead, and you also lost Linjiang City—your family will become the laughingstock of the empire.”

Stung by the “damned eunuch” jibe, Yu Fuguo immediately shot back. Shangguan Wei’s fury burned inside; he despised being compared unfavorably to Long Ye, even if it was the truth.

“His Majesty’s decree will be carried out! Feng He, investigate thoroughly—find out exactly who this Long Cheng’en is!” Shangguan Wei ordered sharply. Shangguan Xiu acknowledged the command.

“That is all,” Shangguan Wei said, rising to return to his chambers, as Yu Fuguo left the hall with a sinister grin.

Shangguan Xiu and Shangguan Mu watched his receding figure. Shangguan Mu muttered under his breath, “That damned eunuch, lording it over the military just because he carries an imperial edict. Should we arrange for him to have an ‘accident’ amid the chaos?”

Shangguan Xiu shook his head. “We can’t. He’s one of His Majesty’s closest confidants—we must not touch him.”

Shangguan Mu seethed with helpless anger.

Back in his room, Shangguan Xiu was met by Feng He, who had just returned.

“I was just about to summon you. His Majesty has ordered us to investigate Long Cheng’en’s background. Send men to Linjiang City and Daughter City to dig deeper. We must uncover the truth.”

Feng He closed the door behind him, but instead of replying, he said, “Young General, someone from Linjiang City has arrived.”

Shangguan Xiu was surprised. “Who?”

He assumed it was one of Feng He’s informants.

“The visitor left only a letter, without revealing their identity.”

Feng He produced a letter and handed it to Shangguan Xiu. Inside, to his astonishment, was a roster of Linjiang City’s officers and a detailed deployment map.

“Follow that person—find out who they are, no matter what!” Shangguan Xiu exclaimed, both anxious and elated. If the information was genuine, Linjiang City would soon be within their grasp. But perhaps the messenger was merely a decoy, offering falsified defenses.

“I’ve already sent men after them,” Feng He replied.

Shangguan Xiu tucked away the letter. “Earlier, the matter was on His Majesty’s orders. This time, since Long Cheng’en is in Linjiang City, send people to probe his background. Do whatever it takes to uncover the truth.”

Feng He bowed. “At once.”

…

Linjiang City.

Long Chen entered a room whose layout was intimately familiar, though the furniture was new. This was the very room where he had once lived.

He lay on the bed, gazing at the ceiling in a daze, as memories belonging to the body’s former master surged through him. The laughter of Long Ye, his mother, his siblings—it all seemed to echo at his ears.

“What are you thinking about, lost in thought like that?” Zhang Qian entered, clad in a thin, gauzy robe, her damp hair flowing down her back to her waist.

One of the benefits of this ancient world was that almost every woman wore their hair long, a cascade of black silk draped over fair skin—enough to set any man’s pulse racing.

Long Chen’s eyes devoured Zhang Qian’s proud figure. The thin robe was raised in places; Zhang Qian picked up a comb and slowly ran it through her hair, the faint fragrance of her freshly bathed body drifting in the air.

“We’re almost like a married couple, always tangled up together day in and day out,” Long Chen remarked, his hand sliding over her smooth, ivory legs.

Zhang Qian let him touch her; after nearly a year of eating and sleeping side by side, such gestures had become routine.

“A married couple? You don’t even have…” Zhang Qian giggled, pointing at his lower half.

“Don’t worry, the bread will come, and so will everything you want,” Long Chen replied, his fingers drifting up to the most ticklish spot on her waist.

Zhang Qian shrank back, giggling uncontrollably. “Stop it, that tickles… hahahaha…”

Ticklish to a fault, her feet and waist were particularly sensitive. Spurred on, Long Chen scooped her up and pinned her down, tickling her relentlessly. Zhang Qian writhed with laughter, curling into a ball. “Mercy! Stop tickling me… hahahaha…”

But Long Chen was relentless, tossing her robe aside and redoubling his attack.

Outside the door, Li Xiannan was passing by and heard Zhang Qian’s cries for mercy. She muttered, “What’s so fun about tickling, Long Cheng’en?”

One of the female soldiers snickered, “Maybe they’re doing something else, hee hee…”

Li Xiannan scoffed, “As if—a eunuch? What could he possibly do?”

The soldier whispered lewdly, “I heard Lord Long’s two-finger technique is legendary—he can send a woman soaring to the clouds, transcendence itself.”

Li Xiannan frowned, her plump face creasing with suspicion. “Where did you hear such nonsense?”

The soldier stuck out her tongue. “General Qingyue said so.”

For a moment, Li Xiannan was speechless. Had Qingyue tried it herself?

Quickening her pace, Li Xiannan made her way to Di Luoxi’s chambers. The princess was drying her hair, with Xuan Yi and Qingyue gently combing through the strands to speed the process.

“Princess, take a look at this defense map,” Li Xiannan said, laying out the latest troop deployment.

Di Luoxi studied the map. “We need defenses to the north as well. The Southern Liang navy is formidable—they may launch an attack from that direction.”

“You’re right,” Li Xiannan agreed. “I kept thinking they’d attack from the south, never considered they’d come via the river.”

She hurried out to rearrange the defenses.

As she passed Long Chen’s room, she ran into him coming out.

“General Li, is that matter all sorted?” Long Chen asked, massaging the fingers of his right hand with his left as if the two digits had been overtaxed.

“Lord Long, are your fingers all right?” Li Xiannan asked, her expression odd.

Long Chen quickly shook out his hand, forcing a sheepish smile. “Of course, nothing’s wrong.”

At that moment, Zhang Qian emerged, steadying herself against the wall, her cheeks flushed as if she’d soaked in a hot bath.

Li Xiannan’s eyes flashed with curiosity, recalling the female soldier’s words: floating, transcending, soaring to the clouds.

Then she shot Long Chen a longing glance.

Startled, Long Chen turned and hurried away. A little plumpness was fine, but driving a heavily armored tank was courting death—the fuel consumption alone would be ruinous!

Noticing Li Xiannan’s peculiar look, Zhang Qian forced a smile, suppressed the lingering sensations, and hurried after Long Chen toward Princess Di Luoxi’s chambers.