Late Ming Dynasty: Summoning players from Liaodong to support the Ming Dynasty

Chapter 178 Want to disarm? He'll strip the Imperial Guards naked!

Heading west along Chongwenmen Street, after turning two intersections, you can see the Pingliao Earl's Mansion with its brand-new plaque in the distance.

The vermilion gate had newly made door studs, and even the stone beads in the mouths of the stone lions at the entrance had a freshly chiseled white patina. This house originally belonged to a fallen nobleman, and the Ministry of Revenue had to rush to clean it up for three days and three nights to barely make it look presentable.

Chu Ze pulled on the reins.

The warhorse's iron hooves made two crisp sounds on the bluestone slabs, and it stopped two streets away from the mansion gate.

Something's not right ahead.

The entire street was cleared out. The doors of the shops on both sides were even more tightly closed than on the previous street, with even the cracks sealed with cotton cloth. The street was deserted; not even a sparrow could be seen. Snowflakes swirled down from the rooftops, settling on the ground in a thin layer.

At the street corner, a densely packed row of people stood.

Flying fish costume.

Embroidered Spring Knife.

The unique, dark brocade, with its subtle gold thread overlay, gleamed with a cold, somber light. Five hundred elite Imperial Guards blocked both ends of the street, making it impenetrable. The soldiers in the front row knelt on one knee, their embroidered spring knives resting diagonally on their shoulders, the tips pointed low towards the center of the street. Those in the back row held their sword hilts firmly, their backs ramrod straight.

At the very center of the street intersection, a tall, chestnut-colored horse emerged from the crowd.

The man was in his early forties, dressed in the flying fish robe of a third-rank military officer, with a jade-inlaid embroidered spring knife hanging at his waist. He had a long, narrow face, a black mole the size of a soybean on his cheekbone, and very thin lips.

Luo Yangxing.

Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Chu Ze remained seated on his horse, without moving.

The hundred players behind them also stopped.

The hustle and bustle of the streets was completely silenced at that moment. Only the north wind whistled and howled as it blew out from under the eaves.

Luo Yangxing spurred his horse forward, stopping ten zhang away from Chu Ze. He dismounted with extreme slowness, every inch exuding an air of authority. After landing, he straightened his sleeves, cupped his hands in a gesture of respect towards Chu Ze, and a standard official smile appeared on his lips.

"Lord Pingliao".

Luo Yangxing's voice was high-pitched and thin, but his pronunciation was clear and distinct.

"This humble official, Luo Yangxing, Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, has come by imperial decree to welcome Lord Marquis to your residence."

He pulled a roll of bright yellow silk from his sleeve, but did not unfold it; he simply held it in his palm.

"His Majesty's decree: Lord Chuze, the Marquis of Pingliao, has returned from a long campaign after great merit. The capital is bustling, and there are concerns that the Marquis may suffer from acclimatization issues. Furthermore, his residence is newly established and its security may be inadequate. Therefore, five hundred elite Imperial Guards are hereby ordered to escort the Marquis back to his residence along the streets and to take over the defenses of the Marquis's residence, to demonstrate the Emperor's boundless grace. So be it."

The last two words were pronounced with extra emphasis.

Luo Yangxing slightly raised his chin and looked at Chu Ze with a forced smile: "Lord, please dismount to receive the imperial decree."

Chu Ze didn't reply.

His gaze swept across Luo Yangxing's face, and then across the five hundred Imperial Guards behind him.

escort?

Take over the guards?

This is like having a knife to his throat, watching his every breath 24 hours a day. Entry and exit are registered at the gate, the servants in the mansion are replaced with spies from the Imperial Guard, and even getting up to use the outhouse in the middle of the night requires someone to accompany him.

The same old trick.

Chu Ze's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't say anything.

Seeing that he didn't move, Luo Yangxing wasn't annoyed. This commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard had served the emperor for over a decade and had seen all sorts of people. He tucked the silk into his waistband, turned around, and slowly strolled a couple of steps, pointing to the hundred players wearing floral cotton-padded jackets behind Chu Ze.

"As for these—"

Luo Yangxing's voice suddenly rose a few decibels, carrying a hint of the arrogance unique to officialdom.

"My dear brothers, you must be tired from your journey. However, the capital is a place of great importance with strict rules. His Majesty the Great Ancestor has decreed that when generals from outside the capital enter the capital, their personal attendants are not allowed to carry weapons."

He paused, then his smile widened.

That's a well-chosen statement.

To keep on behalf of someone else.

The item will be returned to its original owner.

But the meaning behind those words was clear to everyone—it meant surrendering in the street.

The goal is to turn Chu Ze's hundred men from his close followers into a mere shadow of their former selves, from those capable of fighting to those who can only watch helplessly. Once they're stripped of their weapons and entered the mansion, surrounded by five hundred Imperial Guards, they'll truly be meat on a chopping block.

After Luo Yangxing finished speaking, he stood in the middle of the street with his hands behind his back. His back was ramrod straight, and his chin was slightly raised.

He was certain that Chu Ze wouldn't dare to turn against him.

He'd heard about what happened at Guangqumen. The fact that half the face of a Beijing garrison officer was slapped open was because the officer was a mere figurehead, a useless figurehead drawing a salary without working. The Embroidered Uniform Guard was different. The Embroidered Uniform Guard was the Emperor's personal army. To kill a member of the Beijing garrison was disobeying orders; to kill a member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard was treason.

As long as Chu Ze is still conscious, he has no choice but to obediently hand over the knife.

Five hundred Imperial Guards at the street corner stepped forward in unison.

The military boots struck the bluestone slabs with a rhythmic, dull thud. Simultaneously, the embroidered spring knives were drawn three inches from their sheaths, their cold blades gleaming and leaving streaks of white in the wind and snow.

That was a blatant threat.

Chu Ze's black fox fur coat was lifted by a corner by the wind.

He sat on his horse, raised his right hand, and slowly adjusted his collar. When he lowered his fingers, they rested on the reins.

Behind.

Shi Dali, carrying the rusty greatsword, made a gurgling sound in his throat. His thick neck stiffened, and saliva spilled from the corner of his mouth; he raised his hand to wipe it away.

"Boss————"

Shi Dali lowered his voice, but it was as rough as sawing wood.

"What are these people in silk robes? They look way more conspicuous than those Beijing garrison soldiers from before."

Zhou Keke, standing next to him with a broken iron pot on her head, squinted at it for a long time and then clicked her tongue.

"Flying fish robe. The uniform of the Embroidered Uniform Guard." She had seen a replica of the real thing in the museum. "This material—if I'm not mistaken, it's Yun brocade. It takes three months to weave one bolt. The gold thread on it is made of real gold thread."

She swallowed as she said this.

"A piece of clothing—how much does a piece of clothing cost again—"

Qian Lele leaned closer, her eyes wide with surprise.

"A cloud brocade flying fish robe? With real gold stitching? Good heavens, if this thing were displayed in our main city, you couldn't get it without at least eight thousand merit points!"

"Eight thousand?"

A player next to him chimed in, his voice cracking.

"That's the regular version! Look at what their commander is wearing, it's embroidered with a four-clawed python pattern, and the collar and cuffs are lined with silver fur. This is a custom-made one, bro! It'd cost at least ten or eight thousand!"

"Five hundred items —"

Zhou Keke counted on her fingers.

"Five hundred flying fish robes, plus five hundred embroidered spring knives —"

She was halfway through her calculations when her mind went blank.

Embroidered Spring Knife.

That thing was specially made by the Armory Bureau. It had cloud patterns engraved on the blade, sharkskin wrapped around the hilt, and the blade was made of gilded brass.

The cost of materials and labor for a single knife is equivalent to a year's salary for an ordinary soldier.

The chat in the guild channel started refreshing like crazy.

[Qian Lele, a member of the Immortal Cultivation Party: Brothers! Brothers, look! What is this?! This is a walking national treasury!]

[Civil Engineering Bro - Zhou Keke: I counted, five hundred people. Each one is dressed in a flying fish robe and carries an embroidered spring knife. Conservative estimate—at least five million merit points?]

[Breaking Bad - Cheng Huaxue: They're standing so close together, it'll be perfect for me to poison them. Should I sprinkle some upstream from the wind? I'll make sure they're all there.]

[PVP Assassination - Qin Jue: That commander's sword at his waist is inlaid with jade. I want it.]

At the edge of Chu Ze's field of vision, red bullet comments surged forth.

He did not get angry.

He didn't try to reason with Luo Yangxing either.

Arguing with this kind of person is a complete waste of breath. The emperor's lackeys are inherently single-minded; imperial decrees are above all else, and rules are above life itself. If you try to reason with them about the ancestral rules of the founding emperor, they can argue with you until dark.

We need to find another way.

Chu Ze moved his right hand on the reins, while his left hand quietly reached inside the fox fur coat.

At the edge of the retina, the system background was silently brought up.

[Guild Channel: Administrator Posts Temporary Task]

He tapped his fingertips in the air.

[Mission Name: Flying Fish Suit Collection Plan]

[Task Description: An important client outside the city has a strong interest in flying fish robes and embroidered spring knives and urgently needs a large number of samples for research. Please be sure to meet the client's needs.]

[Mission Objective: Collect all 500 Flying Fish Robes and 500 Embroidered Spring Knives. Note: The higher the completion rate, the richer the reward.]

[Task Rewards:]

[1. For each complete collection of a Flying Fish Robe: Merit Points +500, Spiritual Essence Feedback +100.]

[2. For each complete collection of a Xiuchun Knife: Merit Points +300, Spiritual Energy Feedback +80.]

[3. Bonus Reward: Complete collectors will receive the limited-edition "Nightwalker's Attire" skin, which permanently increases the Shadow Stealth attribute.]

[4. Hidden Reward: Capture Commander Luo Yangxing, and you will be rewarded with one piece of purple equipment and 5000 merit points.]

[Special Note: This mission supports non-lethal collection mode. It is recommended to complete it without damaging the clothing.]

Task issued.

Chu Ze flicked his finger, and the system panel disappeared silently.

Almost simultaneously, blood-red mission announcements popped up in the vision of the hundred people behind them.

Dead silence.

Three breaths of deathly silence.

Then "Awooo!!!!"

The gurgling sound in Shi Dali's throat finally burst out, turning into a strange cry. His arm, which was carrying the rusty greatsword, tensed up abruptly, and the iron trembled on his shoulder.

"Five hundred! Five hundred flying fish robes!"

Zhou Keke gripped the wooden handle of the entrenching tool tightly with both hands, her knuckles cracking. The broken iron pot on her head was tilted askew by the veins on her scalp.

"Non-lethal — Non-lethal collection mode —"

Her mouth was practically watering.

"Doesn't that mean—you can just peel it off?!"

Qian Lele was already rubbing his hands together. He pulled a small knife from his cotton-padded coat and turned the blade in his palm.

"Thank God! Thank God! Just the other day I posted on the forum asking where I could get the blueprints for the Flying Fish Suit, and now, here they are, 500 pieces delivered right to my door!"

The guild chat channel completely exploded.

Qin Jue: I've reserved that jade-inlaid embroidered spring knife. Nobody can take it from me.

[Liu Tiezhu: I counted, and the 100th commander in the front row is wearing a flying fish robe with a qilin embroidered on the collar. Probably a promotion version, worth twice as much!]

[Zhou Keke: Watch out! Don't poke a hole while peeling! A single hole will deduct half your merit points! I'll fight anyone who tears the brocade!]

[Cheng Huaxue: Should we throw some sleeping powder first? Let them pass out before we strip them, it'll save us trouble!]

[Qian Lele: No way! The sleeping gas residue is toxic and will stain the fabric! The brocade will look cheap if it smells like medicine! We have to do it barehanded!]

One hundred pairs of bright green eyes simultaneously rose from the center of the street and fixed themselves on the five hundred Imperial Guards across the street.

That kind of scrutiny was blatant.

It's like dissecting each of the elite soldiers, who stand ramrod straight, from head to toe, and examining them like individual items.

From the collar, cuffs, and hem of the flying fish robe to the handle, scabbard, and tassel of the embroidered spring knife.

Every single spot has been greedily measured, valued, and priced by a hundred pairs of eyes.

Luo Yangxing stood in the middle of the street.

His hands, which had been behind his back, had somehow come undone.

He first sensed something was wrong.

The atmosphere is off.

Just now, when he finished reading the imperial edict, telling the enemy's personal guards to surrender their weapons, according to his prediction, the group of rough border soldiers should react in this way—either by cursing loudly, or by drawing their swords in anger, or by looking at Chu Ze's expression with flushed faces.

But this group of people is not.

The group of people are laughing.

It wasn't a cold laugh, a sinister laugh, or a forced laugh while holding back anger.

It was a heartfelt, joyful laugh.

I'm very happy.

Luo Yangxing's spine began to feel cold.

He's been in this line of work for twenty years. He climbed his way up from a junior officer in the Northern Garrison to the position of commander, and has been in no fewer than a thousand prisons and has interrogated no fewer than eight thousand prisoners.

He is very good at recognizing facial expressions.

The smiles on these people's faces were the smiles of those who have seen prey.

Luo Yangxing's gaze swept quickly over the person in the cotton-padded coat.

A burly man carrying a rusty sword stared at the flag bearer behind him, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

A woman wearing a broken iron pot, holding an entrenching tool, was slowly drawing something on the blue bricks in the middle of the street with the tip of the tool. He squinted at it and saw that it was a simple line drawing of a human figure with an X on its neck and a circle on its chest.

What made his hair stand on end was—

The skinny man in black on the far right was smiling as he stared at the jade-inlaid embroidered spring knife at his waist.

The way he was being scrutinized sent a chill down Luo Yangxing's spine, and he instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his knife.

"Lord...Lord?"

Luo Yangxing's voice unconsciously rose eight octaves without him even noticing.

He turned to look at Chu Ze.

Chu Ze sat upright on his horse, his back straight, his black fox fur coat motionless in the wind.

There was no anger on that face.

There was no panic.

Chu Ze raised his right hand, which was covered by a deerskin glove, and slowly stroked the horse's neck.

He glanced up at the sky. Lead-gray clouds pressed down on the rooftops, and snowflakes drifted down, landing on his eyelashes.

Chu Ze then turned his head and spoke slowly.

"Commander Luo."

His voice was flat.

"What did you just say? That my personal belongings are to be entrusted to you for safekeeping?"

Luo Yangxing straightened his chest, suppressing the sudden chill that had gripped him.

"Indeed! It's His Majesty's decree."

"Um."

Chu Ze nodded.

"I heard you clearly."

"9

He paused, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"However, the brothers under my command have fought their way here from Liaodong with me, and they're a bit unruly. There are some things they have to talk to you about themselves."

Luo Yangxing was taken aback: "Lord, what...what do you mean?"

Chu Ze did not answer.

He simply gave the reins a slight tug.

The warhorse took two steps back, giving the hundred men behind it a clear view.

The last comment popped up in the guild chat.

[Chu Ze: Let's begin. Note that living characters are acceptable, but dead characters will result in a deduction of points. Try to keep the clothing intact.]

Luo Yangxing did not see this comment.

He only saw—

One hundred people wearing floral cotton-padded jackets across from them all stepped forward in unison.

Beneath the military boots, the ice shattered with a crack.

Shi Dali slammed the rusty greatsword he was carrying on his shoulder heavily onto the ground. The tip of the sword chipped into the bluestone slab, sending up a spray of debris.

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"That older brother in the silk robe—"

Shi Dali's hoarse voice boomed out in the deathly silent street.

"Where did you get these clothes made? Could you give me an address?"

Luo Yangxing's pupils suddenly contracted.

The wind and snow hit his face.

For the first time in his life, surrounded by his five hundred Imperial Guards, he truly understood what it meant to be besieged on all sides.