Chapter 623: Refusal

Gazing at the Imperial Hospital not far off, Zu'an hadn't expected to revisit this familiar place so soon.

As he walked inside, he instinctively glanced at the room where Shi Kun had been, but it was empty now. He figured Shi Kun's family must have taken him home.

"I wonder if they found the severed part, or else he won't be able to be buried whole," Zu'an mused with a touch of malice.

Around him, injured guards lay groaning on communal beds, their bodies covered in blood. Staff from the Imperial Hospital bustled about, applying medicine and bandaging wounds.

Zu'an sighed inwardly. The assassin invasion had caused heavy casualties on both sides—among the Demonic Cult and the palace staff alike.

While he felt a sense of lament, he knew he wouldn't hesitate to act ruthlessly if the safety of those close to him were truly threatened.

Just then, a loud, animated voice drifted from a short distance away. A group of guards were gathered around one man, listening to him boast: "When those assassins stormed the Eastern Palace, they killed everyone in sight! Every one of them was a top master, and the Eastern Palace guards were nearly decimated right from the start."

"We retreated into the main hall, hoping to use the Eastern Palace's protective formation for defense. But it seemed they were prepared; they used some unknown magical artifact to disrupt the formation, and then their leader shattered our grand defensive array with a single palm."

Zu'an observed the man in the center, noting the dark circles under his eyes, as if he were some kind of "time management master" from a previous life.

He nodded to himself. Even his own residence had a protective array; there was no way the Eastern Palace wouldn't. It only meant that Yun Jianyue and her group had been thoroughly prepared, capable of easily breaching the Eastern Palace's formations.

The other guards gasped collectively. "So, what did you do?" they asked.

The dark-eyed guard, his brows dancing with excitement, declared, "Fortunately, the Crown Prince's Junior Tutor arrived just in time and intercepted their leader. But the other assassins still charged straight for the Crown Prince. Seeing everyone gripped by fear, in that critical moment, I let out a mighty roar, drew my saber, and charged out! I fought my way from the hall's entrance to the courtyard, then back again from the courtyard, completing three full charges in and three retreats out. I slew those assassins until their bodies lay strewn everywhere, and I didn't even blink!"

A tall, slender guard beside him scoffed, "You didn't blink for *that* long?"

"Of course not," the dark-eyed guard retorted, puffing out his chest. "In that kind of situation, with enemies everywhere, how could I dare to be even slightly distracted?" He basked in the admiring gazes of the other guards, feeling immensely pleased.

The tall, slender guard spoke up again: "Don't your eyes get dry if you don't blink at all?"

The dark-eyed guard's smile faltered. "I'm telling you about how I fought my way in and out three times, slaughtering assassins until their bodies littered the ground, and you're asking if my eyes got dry?"

"I'm concerned about the same thing," the tall, slender guard countered. "Was it three charges *in* or three *retreats* out?"

The dark-eyed guard huffed, "Of course, it was *both* three charges in and three retreats out!"

"You said you slaughtered assassins until their bodies lay strewn everywhere. How many assassins did you actually kill?"

"At such a critical juncture, how could I possibly stop to count them one by one?"

"I counted," the tall, slender guard said. "You killed three assassins and wounded four."

The surrounding guards began to jeer. They had been listening to his grand boasts, only for it to amount to so little?

While they understood that, given the assassins' skill and the numerical disadvantage, such a combat record was actually quite impressive, they couldn't help but mock him. His prior boasting had simply been too excessive.

"Jiao Sigun," the dark-eyed guard snapped, "must you always contradict me? How many did *you* kill then?"

The tall, slender guard, who indeed seemed to enjoy arguing, appeared to have been waiting for this very question. He lifted his chin proudly and declared, "Oh, me? I merely managed to kill precisely one more assassin than you did."

The dark-eyed guard was speechless.

The surrounding guards, sensing the shift in momentum, smartly turned to compliment the tall, slender, argumentative guard.

Annoyed that his companion had stolen his thunder, the dark-eyed guard grumbled, "Ultimately, what we did was just small skirmishes. The person who truly deserves the most gratitude is Lord Eleven."

"Lord Eleven?" the surrounding guards asked, perplexed. "We've never heard that name before."

Zu'an, who had been about to head inside to find an imperial physician, stopped involuntarily upon hearing this. "Ah, why are people so vain?" he thought to himself.

The dark-eyed guard then announced, "Why, the Golden-Badge Embroidered Envoy, Lord Eleven, of course!"

"Nonsense," a guard retorted, "It's well known there are only ten Golden-Badge Envoys!"

"We used to think there were only ten as well, but today we discovered there's an eleventh!" the dark-eyed guard insisted. "At that time, we were hopelessly outnumbered; even the Crown Princess herself had to join the fray. When the Crown Princess was in peril, Lord Eleven appeared and directly embraced... *cough, cough*... I mean, he drew his weapon and instantly cut down several high-level assassins."

Though he was generally boisterous, he understood that the incident involving the Crown Princess being embraced was taboo, and he dared not publicize it.

This was when his tall, slender companion corrected him: "Strictly speaking, Lord Eleven didn't *instantly kill* those assassins. He merely defeated them in one move; he didn't kill them at all."

"You always have to contradict me!" the dark-eyed guard fumed. "If you say one more word, I won't play dice with you again!"

"Oh," the tall, slender guard conceded, finally falling silent.

The dark-eyed guard continued, "Anyway, as soon as Lord Eleven arrived, the pressure on all of us eased considerably. He alone, with just one sword, protected the Crown Prince and Crown Princess. It was truly a sight to behold, a single sword radiating a chill across nineteen provinces. Countless assassins charged at him, yet not one could cross his path."

Having just been exposed for his own exaggerated claims, he now had to satisfy his vanity by praising Lord Eleven. Seeing the glittering, admiring eyes of the other guards, he instantly felt a surge of pride and profound satisfaction.

His tall, slender companion's expression immediately became conflicted. He opened and closed his mouth several times, clearly wanting to speak, before finally being unable to resist correcting him: "Lord Eleven didn't use a sword..."

"Shut up!" the dark-eyed guard snapped, so furious he looked ready to fight. Just then, another guard nearby asked curiously, "But I heard a Grandmaster appeared on the assassins' side later. Could Lord Eleven even contend with a Grandmaster?"

The dark-eyed guard hastily explained, "Lord Eleven is naturally no match for a Grandmaster. However, even the Grandmaster's full-power flying sword strike couldn't injure Lord Eleven in the slightest. Everyone in the Eastern Palace witnessed the terror of that sword; I'm not afraid of your laughter, but that terrifying aura nearly made me wet myself from fear, even from a distance."

"Even a ninth-rank master might not be able to withstand a Grandmaster's full-power strike," the surrounding guards murmured, somewhat disbelievingly, looking towards the tall, slender, argumentative guard.

This time, however, he didn't contradict. Instead, he concurred, "Lord Eleven truly dodged that sword and emerged completely unharmed."

A collective gasp went through the group. As skilled guards themselves, they understood the implications of such a feat. Immediately, a wave of profound admiration for the mysterious Lord Eleven swept through them.

At this moment, Zu'an deliberately cleared his throat and said, "Actually, I wasn't entirely unscathed. That Grandmaster's sword caused me quite severe internal injuries. Isn't that precisely why I've come here to get medicine?"

He had been struggling to find a good excuse to obtain the medicine, and unexpectedly, this guard had just handed him one.

Hearing his voice, the group turned in unison to look at him.

The dark-eyed guard and the tall, slender guard instantly recognized him and excitedly rushed over. "Lord Eleven!" they exclaimed.

The other guards examined him. So this was the mysterious Golden-Badge Eleven? His attire indeed matched that of a Golden-Badge Embroidered Envoy.

Noticing that both guards were still heavily bandaged, clearly having sustained significant injuries, he quickly helped them to their feet. "What are you doing? Please, stand up."

The two guards, still excited, said, "If it weren't for your intervention, Lord Eleven, my brother and I would surely have perished today. How could we ever forget such a life-saving kindness?"

Zu'an didn't actually remember them; the Eastern Palace had been too chaotic then, though he had indeed saved a few guards incidentally. He hadn't realized these two were among them. "You two are too kind," he said. "May I ask your names?"

He also held the title of Crown Prince's Retainer, making it essential to foster good relationships with the Eastern Palace's personal guards.

"Oh, no, no, you're too kind. My name is Pu Duandiao," the dark-eyed guard said, smiling broadly.

"And I'm Jiao Sigun," the tall, slender guard added, attempting a smile that looked more like a grimace.

Zu'an's expression became peculiar. "The person who named you two," he remarked, "must truly be a genius."

Pu Duandiao and Jiao Sigun nodded profusely. "Heh heh, we think so too!"

Other guards gathered around, eagerly asking about the details of the battle, each looking at him with admiring eyes.

Zu'an felt a little lightheaded from all the praise. *The Imperial Hospital truly is my lucky charm,* he thought. *The people here are incredibly nice, and their words are so pleasant to hear.*

Yet, he hadn't forgotten his true purpose. He deliberately coughed a few times. "I'm still injured," he said, "so I'll go get some medicine first."

Pu Duandiao and Jiao Sigun immediately volunteered, "Lord Eleven, we'll take you to see the Deputy Director of the Imperial Hospital."

As guards, they frequently came here for injuries and were very familiar with the hospital's layout.

The highest position in the Imperial Hospital was the Director, but most daily affairs were managed by the Deputy Directors on the left and right. Today, the Left Deputy Director, Lord Ma An, was on duty.

"Thank you both," Zu'an said, cupping his hands in a polite gesture.

"You're too kind, Lord Eleven," Pu Duandiao and Jiao Sigun replied, secretly delighted. "This Lord Eleven wasn't as aloof as other Golden-Badge Envoys; befriending him seemed like a wise move. Perhaps, in the future, they could even rely on him for greater support."

They quickly found the Deputy Director and explained their purpose. The Deputy Director, an old man with a goatee, scrutinized Zu'an. "May I ask where you are injured, my lord?" he inquired.

"I took a strike from that Grandmaster earlier," Zu'an explained, "and ever since, I've felt somewhat disoriented. Even the slightest mental exertion causes a splitting headache."

"Oh, you've sustained an injury to your spiritual essence," the Deputy Director mused, stroking his goatee and furrowing his brow in thought. "Let me consider what medicines might treat such an affliction." This kind of ailment was rarely encountered, so he was momentarily at a loss.

Zu'an tentatively asked, "Do you happen to have the Five-Essence Spirit Fungus?"

The Deputy Director's eyes lit up. "Indeed," he confirmed. "That item can certainly nourish the spiritual essence. The barbarians from the west recently offered two of them as tribute."

Zu'an was overjoyed. Before he came, Yun Jianyue had given him a rough analysis, explaining that certain medicines were simply too rare for even the Imperial Hospital to possess. So, she had instructed him to inquire about a few more probable ones. He hadn't expected to hit upon one on his very first try.

But then the Deputy Director frowned. "However," he said, "this item is exceedingly precious. By custom, it is reserved for imperial consorts and princes. I'm afraid I cannot give it to you, my lord..."