Luo Chen looked at her, his gaze persistent, possessing the sharpness and sensitivity of youth.

Luo Sheng fell silent for a moment.

In that instant, she thought of many things, even feeling the impulse to tell him his true identity, but ultimately dismissed the notion.

Dragging her younger brother into the abyss of suffering at this time would not be wise.

What she was about to face was the Great Zhou Emperor, the ruler of a nation. Once she failed, the outcome would be a catastrophic destruction of body and bones. Without a foolproof plan, setting aside her younger brother’s safety, at the very least she couldn’t let the Grand Commander’s Manor be buried alongside them.

“Elder sister?” Luo Chen called out again.

Luo Sheng smiled as if nothing was amiss. “Do you really want to know?”

Luo Chen nodded.

The feeling of being kept in the dark was terrible—he didn’t like it.

“Prince Kaiyang told me.” Luo Sheng deftly shifted the blame.

Luo Chen was greatly surprised, looking at Luo Sheng with eyes full of suspicion. “How would he know?”

Luo Sheng didn’t even blink. “Last year he was ordered to investigate the old case of Prince Zhennan’s manor and has been looking into matters related to Prince Zhennan’s manor. Later he discovered that after Prince Zhennan’s manor was raided years ago, some of their property ended up in the Grand Commander’s Manor…”

Luo Chen listened silently and twitched the corner of his mouth.

That there was profit to be made from raiding homes was common knowledge. Just thinking that the person who raided that home was his own father made his feelings somewhat complicated.

“Prince Kaiyang discovered this token existed and mentioned it to me. I became curious, so I wanted to see if we had it.”

Luo Chen tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Prince Kaiyang is quite candid with elder sister.”

Luo Sheng’s face didn’t flush and her heart didn’t race. “We have a good friendship.”

Luo Chen just wanted to laugh derisively.

This was the legendary beauty-induced stupidity. He never expected Prince Kaiyang to be that kind of person…

The young man scorned him inwardly.

At least his taste was passable though.

“What’s this token used for?” Luo Chen paused and corrected himself. “This half token.”

“Perhaps it’s used to command manor troops.” Luo Sheng gave an ambiguous answer and placed the Vermilion Bird Token in Luo Chen’s hand. “You keep it well. If this item is with you, it means it has a bond with you.”

“Since when do you believe in such things?” Even as he said this, Luo Chen still put away the Vermilion Bird Token.

Since Prince Kaiyang had specifically mentioned it to elder sister, this item was probably not simple.

Seeing Luo Chen do this, Luo Sheng felt slightly relieved.

Although Luo Chen was young, he was quite intelligent. She believed he would preserve the token well.

And today, by revealing one or two parts of the token’s origins to Luo Chen, she was giving him some psychological preparation so that when he suddenly learned his identity one day, he wouldn’t find it difficult to accept.

“All right, if there’s nothing else, go back.”

Luo Chen didn’t move.

Luo Sheng glanced at him.

The young man asked with a stern face, “Will the braised pork be made at the tavern or at home?”

Having promised to make braised pork yet not mentioning it at all—there was absolutely no sincerity.

Luo Sheng laughed. “Right here at home. I’ll cook it myself. Will that do?”

Luo Chen struggled to suppress his rising smile, hummed in acknowledgment, and turned to leave.

Returning to his quarters, Luo Chen dismissed the young servants and took out the token to examine.

A pellet drum concealing a token obviously wouldn’t be a plaything his parents gave him. He believed what Luo Sheng said—this was an old item from Prince Zhennan’s manor.

But if Father had raided Prince Zhennan’s manor, why would he even confiscate someone’s pellet drum?

Was this pellet drum the childhood toy of the new Prince Zhennan? And why was it in the chest containing his childhood toys?

Luo Chen had countless questions. He wanted to go find Luo Sheng and ask more, but ultimately dismissed the idea.

He could see that elder sister was a master deceiver—what she didn’t want to tell him, he couldn’t pry out no matter how much he asked.

He would pay careful attention in the future and perhaps find answers.

Time flew by and it was the end of the month. The weather grew colder, yet the carriages and horses on the streets increased.

The Longevity Festival was approaching. Frontier officials, princes and dukes, even neighboring kingdoms and foreign peoples, would come in person or send envoys to gather in the capital to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday.

For this year’s Longevity Festival, commoners were completely unaware, but officials and nobles detected a trace of the unusual.

In previous years, those princely manors enfeoffed in various regions only needed to send their ministers with congratulatory gifts. This year, however, His Majesty had specifically requested that the princes’ eldest sons lead delegations to come celebrate his birthday.

That princes should not enter the capital was the rule—gifts arriving without the persons was normal practice. Although the eldest sons weren’t yet princes themselves, having them lead delegations to the capital to celebrate the birthday was quite rare.

On this day, the imperial gardens of the palace were decorated with lanterns and festoons, resplendent with gold and jade. The princes and ministers all changed into ceremonial court robes and went to the imperial hall to wish the Son of Heaven longevity.

As bird calls arose, all music played together, and a troupe of dancers entered the hall, dancing gracefully.

These dancers were selected from the common districts, all stunningly beautiful women who danced with flowers in hand like immortal maidens.

Emperor Yong’an sat high in the hall, holding a golden cup and casually watching the songs and dances, while from the corner of his eye he surveyed the princes’ eldest sons, as well as the young and handsome Prince Zhennan.

The young man seemed unaccustomed to such occasions, sitting stiffly and awkwardly, not touching any of the delicacies and fine dishes placed before him.

The princes’ eldest sons watched the songs and dances, some wearing smiles, some revealing infatuation, while others showed indifference.

Emperor Yong’an took in all the princes’ sons’ reactions, his eyes showing no ripples.

The music paused, the dancers withdrew, and various entertainers entered.

Compared to song and dance, these entertainments had more interest—pole climbing, bottle kicking, acrobatics… performed by these extraordinarily skilled artists, they always drew waves of applause.

This was a rare day when one could laugh aloud in the imperial hall.

The pole climbing performers were a man and a boy of twelve or thirteen. The man supported a long pole on his head with a slight crouch while the boy climbed up the pole, climbing all the way to the top and performing various flips and maneuvers.

A peach fell from above. The boy caught it nimbly and presented it to the noble closest to him.

Everyone in the hall’s attention was drawn over, while those kicking bottles, doing flips, and performing handstands temporarily went unnoticed.

The bottle kicker was a delicate young girl who, though currently overshadowed by the pole climber, remained exceptionally focused.

Bottles and jars flew up and down from her feet, forming a circle in the air.

Just then, the girl’s toe suddenly jerked, and a descending jar suddenly smashed to the ground. The rhythm disrupted, all the jars flying in the air fell down.

Crashing sounds rang out, immediately drawing back everyone’s gaze.

The boy climbing the pole had already reached the top. In the instant when everyone’s attention was diverted, he pushed hard with both feet and, using the pole’s elasticity like an arrow leaving the bowstring, flew toward Emperor Yong’an.

“Protect His Majesty—”

The hall immediately descended into chaos with people toppling over.

The youth attempting to assassinate Emperor Yong’an ultimately failed, pierced through the body by a long blade and dragged away.

Naturally, the birthday banquet could not continue. Emperor Yong’an departed in haste with an iron-blue face, escorted by his guards, while Grand Commander Luo, as commander of the Jinlin Guard, remained to clean up the mess.

The officials and nobles were terrified, while the princes’ eldest sons trembled even more.

An assassin had actually appeared at the Longevity Festival—what would inevitably follow was a bloody storm.

Directing his subordinates to escort the chain of entertainers to the imperial prison, Grand Commander Luo walked out of the palace and looked up at the overcast gray sky, sighing.

Dark clouds pressed down heralding the coming storm—peaceful days were likely gone forever.