Storms in the Court, a War of Words Against the Scholars

At the third quarter of the Tiger hour, the sky was still dark.

The State-Defending Duke's Mansion was already ablaze with lights. Lu Chen changed into the court robes of a First-Rank Duke—black as the base, embroidered with four-clawed python patterns in gold thread. At his waist hung the Dragon-Pattern Jade Belt newly bestowed by Emperor Xia, and upon his head sat a seven-ridge Worthy Crown.

The man in the mirror had a stern face and deep-set eyes. The subtle changes brought by the Dragon-Pattern Spirit Bones lent his bearing an added, indescribable majesty.

Outside the manor gates, Mo Qianqiu was already waiting in a carriage from the Demon Suppression Division.

The two met up, and their carriage traveled through the silent streets toward the imperial city.

Along the way, they saw the carriages and horses of other officials hurrying to morning court. At the sight of the Demon Suppression Division's carriage and that of the Duke's Mansion, all turned to look—some with reverence, some with complicated expressions, others with barely concealed hostility.

By the time they arrived outside Heaven-Bearing Gate of the imperial city, dawn had begun to break.

Beneath the towering palace walls, the civil and military officials stood in ranks according to their grades, awaiting entry to court.

As a Duke above all ranks, Lu Chen stood below the imperial princes but above all officials. He was at the very front of the line beside several aged dukes with white hair and profound auras, drawing countless gazes.

"Duke Lu." A middle-aged imperial prince in a python robe, dignified and elegant in bearing, took the initiative to cup his hands. With a genial smile, he said, "I have long admired your name. Now that I see you, you truly are a hero born young. I am Prince Qi,