New Position

"Father, that's a hereditary Hundred-Household post!"

"A Hundred-Household Officer of the Embroidered Guard, an official position of Principal Sixth Rank."

"Why do you think the neighbors respect you? Why do you think the people on this street are so kind?"

"Why do you think our family has always had smooth sailing?"

"Official rank is the foundation of everything."

The young man in short clothes clenched the wooden sword in his hand, staring at Hundred-Household Officer Xiang with indignation.

Hundred-Household Officer Xiang said nothing.

A hereditary Hundred-Household post could be passed from father to son.

Now that he had voluntarily given it up and resigned, the Hundred-Household position would go to someone else.

That was unfair to his son.

But he had no choice.

"Why can't people bear the trouble they caused themselves?"

"Why do you always have to stick your neck out?"

"Have you ever thought about whether this is fair to me?"

The young man stared at his father in disbelief.

He did not understand!

Without the tiger skin of the Embroidered Guard Hundred-Household post, anyone could bully them from now on.

Hundred-Household Officer Xiang said, "There are some things you don't understand. Go practice."

Even without this incident, their days in the Embroidered Guard would not have been easy from now on.

It was nothing more than an exchange of interests.

When the noble patron behind them fell, a new noble patron would always rise. They would support new people.

Either switch sides or leave.

"What use is practice!"

The young man roared and viciously slammed the wooden sword in his hand to the ground. It shattered into four pieces at once.

With a bang.

He slammed the door and left.

Hundred-Household Officer Xiang rose to his feet and lifted a hand as though to say something, but in the end, it turned into a sigh.

The old woman in the inner room shook her head slightly, yet she could not bring herself to blame the old man.

She could only hope her son would return once he calmed down.

Early the next morning.

Hundred-Household Officer Xiang tucked a memorial into his robes and headed for the Marquis of Jing'an's residence.

"Knock, knock."

He rapped on the side gate.

The one who opened it was an unfamiliar steward.

Old Xiang was briefly stunned, then said softly, "Please announce me. I wish to see the Heir."

"Who are you?" The steward did not look down on him with dog eyes. That silver Embroidered Guard robe looked imposing; whatever else he was, he was an official.

Moreover, the Heir was the deputy commander of the Military Patrol Office. It was only natural for the Embroidered Guard to seek an audience.

It was simply that this man seemed not to know the news.

"I am Xiang Hu, Hundred-Household Officer of the Embroidered Guard's Southern Office." Hundred-Household Officer Xiang clasped his hands.

The steward immediately understood, then shook his head. "The Heir is not receiving guests."

"Please make an exception." Xiang Hu offered him five taels of silver.

The steward did not accept it. Instead, he sighed. "Did you just return from outside?"

Xiang Hu was somewhat surprised, but quickly nodded. "That's right."

He truly had just returned from outside. So much had happened yesterday that he had not had time to visit the Heir of the Marquis of Jing'an.

On top of that, everyone had made a long forced march, traveling day and night, and they had long since been exhausted.

They simply had no energy to care about anything else.

That was why he had come so rashly today.

The steward shook his head and closed the door.

Xiang Hu frowned. Something major must have happened, otherwise why would things be like this?

Since the steward kept his lips sealed, he could only seek another avenue.

Xiang Hu put on a black robe to cover his silver Embroidered Guard Hundred-Household uniform, then headed straight for the market district.

The market district of Liang Capital was prosperous.

Even though troops had been raised in the north, Liang Capital remained unaffected.

It was still drenched in wine and gold, enough to make one forget the way home.

Peddlers and laborers moved through the streets, while the windows of pavilions and towers stood open.

Xiang Hu twisted and turned his way into an alley.

He knocked on a door.

Three long, two short.

The small door opened, and a short middle-aged man with shifty eyes poked his head out.

"Lord Xiang?" Short Rat was somewhat surprised.

"Short Rat, I want to see Old Ghost."

"Come in."

Short Rat shifted half a step aside and let Xiang Hu in.

At the same time, he scanned both ends of the alley, seemingly afraid Hundred-Household Officer Xiang had brought a tail with him.

The small door closed.

The two-courtyard residence was tightly enclosed, admitting entry but no exit. Its high walls cast vast shadows.

"A rare guest. Lord Xiang, have you finished your official business?"

Before the man arrived, his voice did.

Cold and sinister.

A young man emerged from the shadows, dark-skinned and ordinary.

No one on the street would spare a glance for such a country boy.

When Old Ghost saw Hundred-Household Officer Xiang's empty sleeve, a tremor flashed across his face.

His expression darkened, and he lowered his voice. "Who did this?"

"A monster. It's nothing."

Hundred-Household Officer Xiang did not wish to say much about losing his hand.

"Yihong House hasn't even opened its doors yet. I knew you hadn't gone there."

"I came to you for something. Your information network is broad. I want to know what happened to the Heir of Jing'an."

Old Ghost hesitated slightly, as if organizing his words. "No one knows where the Heir of Jing'an returned from. The Embroidered Guard's missions are highly secretive, so I couldn't find out either."

"I heard he went out to deal with ghosts and fiends, was injured, and hurt his legs too."

"For the rest of his life, he probably won't be able to walk normally."

As soon as the words fell, Xiang Hu's head buzzed as though muffled thunder had exploded within it.

It was over.

If the injury had been somewhere hidden, it would have been fine. But it was his legs.

In the past, a crown prince of the dynasty had injured his legs and been directly deposed, let alone the heir of a marquis's household.

"No wonder," Hundred-Household Officer Xiang muttered.

No wonder White-Fat Thousand-Household Officer had already been unable to hold himself back the moment he returned, even though he had returned with merit.

It turned out the noble patron behind him no longer had any chance of rising again.

His life might even be in danger.

"Lord Xiang?" the young Old Ghost called, pulling Xiang Hu from his thoughts.

Xiang Hu nodded slightly. "Thank you."

"I have decided to resign from my Hundred-Household post. Be more careful from now on. Don't let the Embroidered Guard set their sights on you."

Xiang Hu warned him.

"Lord Xiang, the Heir of Jing'an will probably not survive. He has brothers who are whole and sound."

"Why not pledge yourself to someone else?" Old Ghost asked.

Xiang Hu did not answer. Instead, he asked, "You gave me information. Why did you not take my silver?"

"That is because Lord Xiang once showed me kindness."

"Yes, because of kindness."

Xiang Hu left.

He had never mentioned changing allegiance.

Nor had he ever thought of it.

If he had wanted to, he actually could have. Even though he was already fifty and had lost an arm, a second-rate expert was still scarce to the court.

One such talent could equal dozens of ordinary men.

Keeping someone like that nearby would better ensure one's safety.

Unfortunately, he was unwilling to do so.

At his age, all the sharp edges should have long been worn smooth.

If he did not even have a little something to hold onto, living muddleheadedly would be far too meaningless.

Xiang Hu submitted his memorial early that morning.

The order from above came down quickly.

But rather than approving Hundred-Household Officer Xiang's resignation, they stripped him of his hereditary Hundred-Household title and threw Xiang Hu into the Embroidered Guard's great prison to guard its gatehouse.

Delivering vegetables and meals, inspecting the prison.

Generally, aged Embroidered Guard members were sent there.

Stripped of his silver-white Hundred-Household robe, he changed into a black Embroidered Guard uniform, hung a saber at his waist, and Xiang Hu arrived at the entrance to the great prison.

The great prison was a cage, and also a tomb.

Other than dying in battle, the Embroidered Guard had no ordinary retirement, because many of the things they did could not be spoken of to others.

The court would not allow them to leave alone and unbound.

Not even ordinary soldiers were permitted.

Aged Embroidered Guard members were thrown into the prison, and in time, they too were swallowed by the great prison.

Those Embroidered Guard members who came to the great prison did not complain either.

At least while they still held a post, they could still draw their pay.

They lived numbly and mechanically.

Inside the soul banner, Tu Shan Jun's eyes gleamed.

A great prison.

Wasn't this a natural training ground?

If one or two condemned prisoners died, no one would know.

Moreover, whenever he killed, he directly tore out their Living Souls. There would be no wounds on the outside.

It could be completely disguised as a natural death.

"I have to tell him the cultivation scripture and first see if he can sense qi." Tu Shan Jun made up his mind.

In truth, he had already tried last night.

Unfortunately, it had ended in failure.

Without being the banner's master, and without support from mana, Tu Shan Jun simply could not perform the Dream Infiltration Art.

For Tu Shan Jun, the situation was somewhat dire.

Xiang Hu received a new waist token and entered the great prison.