Chapter 753: Infiltration Mission

……

After eating and drinking their fill with colleagues from the escort bureau at a food stall, amid his coworkers' teasing, Old Hu told the waiter to pack up the leftovers to take home to his wife.

With his woman, Old Hu was satisfied in every way but one — she was too frugal. If he didn't take the initiative himself, don't expect her to touch meat or fish on her own.

To his colleagues' mockery, he only cursed: "You lot — don't run a household, so you don't know how dear firewood and rice are, only know how to waste silver... and wait till you start a family, then you'll know: a wife is meant to be cherished."

Bidding his colleagues farewell, he picked up the food box, hummed a little tune, and swaggered his way home. His small courtyard sat on a quiet lane in the southeast corner of the city. The garrison town was growing ever more crowded now; the ordinary house he'd bought at an ordinary price back then had, he heard, gone up considerably in value.

All the way back, the streets bustled with people. The southeast quarter had many markets, and many streets and lanes were named after them — Rice Market Street, Vegetable Market Street, Salt Shop Street, Oil Shop Street, and so on.

Passing Vegetable Market Street and thinking of his wife now with child, Old Hu stopped to buy an old hen, which clucked as he carried it. Turning down a cloth street, he reached the familiar streets of his own neighborhood.

This area had many grocery shops, with a few pawnshops tucked among them. Along the way, neighbors greeted him from time to time: "Hey, Master Hu's back?"

"Master Hu's back from an escort run? Bought an old hen too — to build up your wife's health, eh?"

"Tsk tsk, one look at Master Hu and you can tell he dotes on his woman..."

The neighbors' greetings came without pause. Though Old Hu had a fleshy, menacing face and walked with a swagger, looking quite fierce, the neighbors had known him long and knew his background. With the tithing captains, ward chiefs, and constables keeping tight control, even the most vicious man had to turn law-abiding in Xuanfu Garrison — so there was nothing to fear.

Besides, a man of ability commanded respect. Old Hu held considerable standing on this street. Whenever the ward had important matters, the tithing captain would seek him out to discuss them.

Faced with the neighbors' warmth, especially when they made a point of mentioning his old hen, Old Hu could only keep saying: "Heh heh. Just bought it on the way. On the way... this old hen's a fine one..."

The lane wound on. Though not wide, the street was clean and tidy, without the sewage, garbage, and human and animal dung of ordinary lanes. Every so often, a large basket sat out; if passersby had trash, they tossed it inside.

The garrison town also had many chengguan. Even on a quiet street like this, Old Hu spotted several chengguan personnel strolling about, waiting at any moment for a fat sheep to appear. Seeing these men, even though the incident was long past, Old Hu still cursed under his breath: "Damn them..."

The past surged up like a tide.

Old Hu had come to Xuanfu Garrison in the fifteenth year of the Chongzhen reign. Just before the Shanhai Army collapsed, he had shot dead his own commander Ma Ke with a single arrow, then shot dead that scoundrel Ma Zhiren who had dared cross him — avenging what he considered a deep blood feud.

Then, using his long spear and his bow, he had fought his way through the Tartars' encirclement and, together with some routed soldiers, fled to Tang Tong's Miyun Army.

For hardened soldiers like them who possessed personal martial skill, who could use bow, spear, and waist saber, the Miyun Army naturally accepted them gladly. He had stayed on with the Miyun Army for a time.

During that period, he had also inquired after news of the Shanhai Army, especially whether men like Black Hair from his own squad were alive or dead.

Yet no word of them ever came, and he never learned how many from his squad and company had survived.

After the Battle of Songshan, when the various garrisons withdrew, Old Hu decisively deserted the Miyun Army on the march back, becoming one of the fugitive soldiers.

He was utterly sick of army life, and the Miyun Army was fiercely cliquish, looking down on outsiders like them. Just as in the Shanhai Army, it was still a bitter life of eating one full meal and going hungry the next. Old Hu decisively left and became a wanderer in the wilds.

During this time, he did all manner of things — kidnapping for ransom, raiding homes and robbing travelers, every dirty deed a soldier-turned-thug could do. He even spent a stretch at a bandit stronghold in Shunyi.

In one internal power struggle, he seized the chance and shot dead the Third Chief, then known as "Sky-Flipping Dragon," with a single arrow. He cleaned out the man's purse and decisively quit the bandit stronghold.

What he could not forget was his desire to go to Xuanfu Garrison, to the Eastern Circuit.

Now he had a tidy sum saved up; the time was ripe. He could go to Xuanfu Garrison and live the good life. So, with the several dozen taels of silver he had accumulated, he took the Juyong Pass route and entered the Eastern Circuit of Huailong Circuit, Xuanfu Garrison.

The first thing that greeted Old Hu was the refugee shelter. This much Old Hu knew. He had a cautious, forbearing side to his nature, and the Jingbian Army's fearsome reputation was thunder in his ears — this was their turf.

So when the shelter aides on the flat ground announced that the gruel-serving time had arrived, he did not rush and shove like some of the refugee youths. Instead, he obediently lined up.

Sure enough, he watched a group of brawny aides step forward and beat the jostling crowd until they rolled all over the ground, and could not help gloating at their misfortune.

When he went to B District to register, the local clerk looked over his military papers, then gave him a flat glance: "You are Hu Tiande, formerly a soldier of the Shanhai Garrison?"

Old Hu bobbed his head and bowed: "Yes, this humble one was once a soldier of the Great Ming."

The clerk said nothing. Such deserters were many, and plenty came to Xuanfu Garrison to make a living; they had long grown used to it. He merely warned him: "Xuan Garrison is not like other places. The laws here are strict. You must behave and abide by the rules. If you're a dragon, coil up for me; if you're a tiger, lie down for me. Understand?"

Old Hu bobbed his head and bowed: "This humble one understands."

Old Hu smoothly obtained his pass slip. But when entering the checkpoint, his long spear, bow, and waist saber were all confiscated.

The checkpoint staff told him that if he obtained a blade permit in the future, these personal weapons would all be returned to him.

Old Hu felt some alarm and anger, but still dared not make trouble. Especially when he saw those patrol officers carrying bird guns, he complied all the more obediently.

When he entered B District, he was extremely worried his silver would be embezzled, but nothing of the sort happened — which greatly surprised Old Hu and gave him even stronger hopes for his future life.

With a large sum of silver on his person, he naturally did not stint himself. He checked into a supervised inn within B District, bathed and changed clothes thoroughly, and comfortably waited for his identification booklet.

At last, two days later, he cleared the checkpoint and entered a bustling market town beyond the shelter.

In an instant, his eyes could not take it all in. He only thought: "Damn, this is incredible — fat sheep everywhere. When I get the chance, I've got to pull a job."

Old Hu took the chance to stroll around this market town. He did enjoy a good stroll, and it was not without the thought of casing the place.

He also saw recruitment notices everywhere. Then he heard a loud-voiced worker ahead shouting: "Hey! Yangwei Escort Bureau is hiring escort masters and swordsmen in large numbers! All able-bodied men may apply — those with army, household guard, or escort bureau experience preferred... Hey! Hiring escort masters and swordsmen! Only need to lift a stone lock twenty times without panting, and exchange five moves with Escort Master Tian without losing, to be selected..."

Old Hu had no mind for labor. This place was full of fat sheep — pull any random job and he could eat and drink for ages. What need was there to work?

Yet without realizing it, he filed the thought away.

By this time, he had long heard that Wang Dou had been enfeoffed as Marquis of Yongning and had come to the garrison town to take up office. Being a man who yearned for the big stage, he too traveled from the Eastern Circuit to the garrison town.

Eating, drinking, and making merry all the way — this life was too good.

The day he arrived at the garrison town, one look at the place — tsk tsk — fat sheep absolutely everywhere.

He put his hands on his hips and thought: "From now on, this place will be my, Old Hu's, domain! Hahahahaha!"

At the height of his glee, he spat — ptooey — a thick wad of phlegm onto the ground.

But then he noticed the people passing by, every face wearing a strange expression, and quite a few of them gloating.

He was still baffled when a man strode briskly over, wearing a black fox hat and a blue short surcoat, and said to him: "Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing, spitting everywhere? Don't you know that easily spreads plague? Absolutely disgraceful — a grown man like you, with no sense of hygiene!"

Old Hu asked warily: "You are...?"

The man puffed out his chest: "I'm from the Chengguanju."

As he spoke, several more men in the same attire came over, carrying short clubs and eyeing him menacingly.

Ever since arriving in Xuanfu Garrison, Old Hu had sensed that this place had too many rules. Now even spitting on the ground drew official attention. But openly clashing with government men was unwise, so he immediately put on a fawning smile: "It's this humble one's fault. This humble one was ignorant."

The man grunted: "Considering it's your first offense, a fine of one copper dollar will do. Don't let it happen again."

Old Hu nearly jumped: "One copper dollar?"

At that time, a wave of exchanging ordinary silver cash for silver and copper dollars was sweeping through Xuan Garrison. Old Hu certainly knew the value of one copper dollar — in Yongning City, you could eat two big bowls of fatty meat noodles with it. He'd only spat once, and two bowls of noodles were gone?

A fierce glint flashed in his eyes. The man sneered at him: "What, not convinced? What kind of attitude is that? Keep being difficult, and I'll fine you one silver dollar!"

As more and more people gathered around, pointing and gesturing at him, Old Hu finally swallowed his pride. He obediently paid the fine and, amid the crowd's jeers, slunk away in disgrace.

It was utterly humiliating — even far in the future, Old Hu would remember this scene vividly.

Still, he continued to live a carefree life, and following the "tide" of the times, he also exchanged the remaining silver in his pocket so it wouldn't become unusable later.

At the exchange site, while most others swapped their money for silver dollars and copper coins, he converted most of his into grain ration tickets. Seeing the puzzled looks from those around him, he couldn't help feeling smug, a sense of intellectual superiority welling up inside him as he thought to himself, "A bunch of country bumpkins — how could they possibly know the advantages of grain ration tickets?"

So pleased with himself was he that he felt the urge to spit on the ground. But then he recalled his recent experience, and the phlegm reached his lips only to be forcibly swallowed back down.

After Old Hu arrived in the garrison town, the place he rented was that small courtyard in the southeast corner of the city. Looking at his neighbors, all ordinary folk, he thought, "A nest of fat sheep — if I get the chance, I'll rob the bastards blind."

But the neighbors were very warm-hearted. Whenever they had good food or drink, they would invite him over, never treating him as an outsider. This made Old Hu somewhat embarrassed to make a move. On one occasion in particular, after he helped a neighbor with a small task, that family praised him profusely: "Master Hu, you truly are a good man."

It was like a warm current pouring into a parched heart. In that instant, Old Hu froze. Afterward, he could only think, "Forget it — a rabbit doesn't eat the grass by its own burrow."

Another thing that gave Old Hu pause was how strict the baojia system was in Xuanfu Garrison. The crackdown on those who committed "villainy" and broke the law was extremely severe. The head of his neighborhood baojia not only patrolled constantly but also frequently came by to chat with him. He feared that the moment he made a move, a vast inescapable net would ensnare him.

When he entered Xuanfu Garrison, he had carried quite a bit of silver in his pocket. But spending lavishly every day, his money inevitably flowed away like water. Though he seemed carefree, the prerequisite for being carefree was having silver.

But very soon, an incident occurred that blasted this notion of Old Hu's clear beyond the Ninth Heaven.

That day, he was wandering the streets, searching for a suitable target. When it came to kidnapping, extortion, and clubbing men from behind, he was quite adept — one could even call him an expert.

But as he was strolling along the street, he suddenly saw a squad of men in red felt hats and short blue-green tunics charging forward, each brandishing a bird gun in hand. Old Hu even heard the metallic clatter of their gear. In that moment, his hair stood on end — what was this?

Old Hu knew that the troops stationed inside the city were gradually moving out, and public order was being taken over by men called constables. These men were constables, similar to the old Yamen Runners. But their equipment was far superior to that of Yamen Runners — even many regular soldier camps of the Ming army couldn't match them.

A cold sweat instantly poured down his back. He thought, I haven't even started doing anything yet, and these men...

He knew that at a moment like this, he must not panic or show alarm. He forced a smile onto his face and was just about to speak when these constables rushed past like a gust of wind, paying him no attention whatsoever. His smile froze on his face, even as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Curious, he looked over and saw that the constables had completely surrounded a courtyard by the street. Then he saw two men who looked like leaders stride over and stop not far from him. Their conversation drifted faintly to his ears.

"Old Yang, is this the place?"

"The local baojia head reported it as here — there's no mistake."

"Mm. When we charge in, take them dead or alive. Against these wandering swordsmen, bandits, and vicious thugs, we must strike with a heavy fist. Better dead than alive."

"Indeed. Some people doubt that we constables can maintain public order — let us show the world that we are fully capable of ensuring the people live and work in peace."

As they spoke, one of them swept his sharp gaze over Old Hu, making him shudder all over. He hurriedly forced an ingratiating smile and strode away.

He had only taken a few steps when the roar of gunfire erupted. He couldn't help turning back to look and saw utter chaos in that direction. People kept leaping over the walls from the courtyard. From their bearing, he caught the scent of his own kind — only now, these men were like chickens and ducks, cut down one by one by firearms.

Those who were hit writhed on the ground in agony, their screams shaking the heavens, fresh blood dripping everywhere. The street was covered in it.

Old Hu even spotted a rather fierce-looking, burly man wielding a long blade, leaping nimbly from a second-floor entrance, intent on breaking through the encirclement.

Weapon control in Xuanfu Garrison had grown increasingly strict — the fact that this man could get his hands on a long blade showed he had considerable resources.

And judging by his skill, Old Hu could conclude with certainty that this man must be a Retainer from one of the border garrison troops. His own skill, compared to this man's, might not necessarily measure up.

Yet even such a man — the moment he jumped down, executed a carp's roll to spring to his feet, several shots struck him, blasting his entire body flying backward. He crashed to the ground, merely twitching, a great pool of blood spreading beneath him. Clearly, he was done for.

Old Hu felt his hands and feet go numb, his body trembling in waves. In that instant, he understood why the fat sheep could live at ease in this place, and why even the most vicious and ruthless men became law-abiding citizens here.

The words that clerk had spoken thundered in his ears like a roaring echo: "If you're a dragon, you'll coil up for me. If you're a tiger, you'll lie down for me."

In those days, the crack of bird guns seemed to resound everywhere in the garrison town. A great host of wandering swordsmen, blade-wielding outlaws, bandits, and thieves were captured or killed. Afterward, several hundred corpses were hung from the city walls for public display, with wooden placards dangling below, enumerating their various crimes and listing what offenses they had committed after entering Xuanfu Garrison.

Old Hu went to see it too. Amid his terror, any thought of pulling a job vanished completely. And by now, his purse was running low. For the first time, he seriously considered the matter of making an honest living.

Come to think of it, there were still plenty of ways to earn a living in Xuanfu Garrison — unlike elsewhere in the Great Ming, where even if you wanted to work, you couldn't survive.

The local baojia head for the small courtyard he rented was a retired veteran of the Pacifying Border Army, surnamed Zhou. He had been wounded in the left thigh and walked with a limp. Yet his life was quite comfortable — he had a wife as beautiful as a flower and a lively, adorable son, which never failed to fill Old Hu with envy.

This Headman Zhou would often drop by to chat idly with Old Hu. That day, he asked again, "Brother Hu still hasn't found a shop?"

When renting the small courtyard, the landlord had been required to report to the baojia head. Old Hu had told him that he had come to Xuanfu Garrison Town to do business. Now he could only manage a dry laugh: "Haven't found a suitable one yet. It seems I'll have to find a job instead..."

Headman Zhou said, "Indeed, business isn't easy to do. Finding a job is the proper path too."

His words carried a meaningful undertone: "If you're going to find a job, you'd better be quick about it. The garrison is already implementing employment permits. Without one, if the constables catch you, being sent to a detention center won't be pleasant."

Headman Zhou offered Old Hu some advice. Seeing that his martial skill was decent, he could try the escort agencies. And before going to an escort agency, he could first go to the "Grandmaster Hall" for an assessment. If he could obtain the rank of "Swordsman," he would enjoy treatment equivalent to the second-class soldiers of the Pacifying Border Army.

With a Swordsman's status, he would have many options. Enlisting in the army was only one — every merchant caravan and escort agency would scramble to recruit a talent like him.

Old Hu was quite tempted. Joining the army held no interest for him, but escort work suited him well. In that instant, the advertisement for the Yangwei Escort Agency he had heard earlier flashed through his mind.

And so Old Hu set off for the "Grandmaster Hall."

That "Grandmaster Hall" was actually located within the boundaries of Baoanzhou on the eastern route. When Old Hu arrived, he saw a grand architectural compound packed with fellows who had rushed in from all over for the assessment. Many of them, in his eyes, were his own kind — men scared witless by this recent storm of law enforcement.

The "Grandmaster Hall" was subdivided into the Swordsman Hall, the Musketeer Hall, the Artisan Hall, and so on. Old Hu naturally chose the Swordsman division. He took up a bow, and a rapid volley of arrows, swift as a string of pearls, drew waves of cheers from everyone present. Even the examiners were quite astonished.

Very smoothly, Old Hu obtained the status of Swordsman. The waist token issued to him even bore the mark of a mid-tier Swordsman.

In that instant, he was mobbed by the commercial agents watching from the sidelines, his hands stuffed full of all kinds of calling cards.

"Esteemed Swordsman, I am the steward of the Yangwei Escort Agency..."

"Esteemed Swordsman, I am the steward of the Yangwu Escort Agency..."

"Esteemed Swordsman, I am the steward of the Zhenwu Escort Agency..."

"Esteemed Swordsman, I am the steward of the Yitong Trading Company..."

"Would Your Excellency be interested in taking up a post with us? The compensation will absolutely be generous."

In that moment, an indescribable sense of glory surged in Old Hu's heart. Even without going out to pull a job, he could live well by relying on his own two hands.

Without hesitation, Old Hu joined the Yangwei Escort Agency and thus began his career as an escort.

The Yangwei Escort Agency was a famous large agency in Xuan Garrison, specializing in escorting bulk commercial goods and silver for merchant caravans, or working on individual hire.

Previously, they had worked the route from Baoanzhou to Taiyuan, and because of the chaotic times, the escort business was excellent. Now they had also opened routes from the garrison town to Datong, to Ningwu Pass, and even to Yansui Garrison, and were further planning a trade route to Xi'an.

An escort's life was generally leisurely. Aside from escort assignments, their free time on ordinary days was theirs to command. Old Hu found it very satisfactory.

Of course, the authorities did not leave them entirely uncontrolled — for instance, in the management of weapons.

After joining the escort agency, Old Hu's long spear, waist saber, bow and arrows, and so on, though retrieved from the detention center, were normally kept under the agency's unified management. Only during escort assignments were they issued to individuals. They also remained reserve militiamen of Xuanfu Garrison — if a mobilization order reached them, they would have to join the fight.

Very quickly, Old Hu grew accustomed to life at the escort agency. Only sometimes, when recalling the days gone by, could he not help but sigh — how had he ended up an escort? He felt a touch of emotion at the fickleness of fate.

Old Hu resumed his carefree life. With his status as a mid-tier Swordsman escort, his income was quite substantial. Moreover, this money was earned legally, so he could spend it with a clear conscience.

He often gathered friends and called in favors, feasting colleagues, tossing out fistfuls of silver coins without batting an eye, and quickly became a well-known figure in the Yangwei Bodyguard Agency.

He also became a man of high virtue and great prestige in the neighborhood. If any household ran into financial trouble, they only had to mention it once, and without a second word, he would generously open his purse.

The name "Master Hu" became renowned along this street, and his private friendship with Ward Chief Zhou grew ever closer.

Of course, Old Hu was nearly thirty by his reckoning, and inevitably had certain physical needs, though after visiting the pleasure quarters he always felt empty inside.

Watching Ward Chief Zhou's harmonious and happy family life, amid his envy he also wondered: shouldn't he start a family too? There are three unfilial acts, and leaving no heir is the gravest.

For the first time, he seriously considered this question.

The turning point of fate came in June. That time he was escorting a shipment past a garment factory when a crowd of seamstresses poured out. He and a group of bodyguards whistled loudly, but as they whistled on, Old Hu froze.

He spotted a young girl among them. The other seamstresses glared with furious brows, but she wore a shy expression — and this young girl, how closely she resembled that figure deep in his heart!

Those brows, those eyes, that timid look — everything was alike. In that moment, the softest place in Old Hu was touched.

Like many people, a figure had always lingered in his heart that he could not shake off. Even if he later saw many women, in his own heart, she was still the most beautiful.

She was so kind, so shy — Old Hu was willing to use every beautiful adjective to describe her.

"Brother Tiande, I'll wait for you..."

Those parting words had also become the most intense pain in Old Hu's heart.

When the great calamity struck, people in the village kept starving to death. To stay alive he joined the army, and in the army he fought desperately to kill the enemy, only for the reward silver. Two years later he felt he had enough, and clutching his full silver he rushed back in excitement — only to be shocked to find the entire village burned to white ash.

He did not know whether it was some bandit gang or disorderly soldiers who had done it. His own family had all died too. When he found the spot where her home had been, he only found a mutilated corpse, with an embroidered shoe still left on one foot.

From the posture of her remains, she had also been raped and killed.

In that moment, Old Hu wailed and sobbed. His pain was beyond compare. He cried to heaven and beat the earth, but it was no use — when a person is dead, they are dead.

Afterward he wanted revenge, but did not know whom to seek it from. From then on Old Hu became exceedingly violent. He rapidly degenerated into a camp ruffian, became a scoundrel. From the original Ji Garrison all the way to Shanhai Garrison, over the years he lost count of how many masters he had changed. Everything was just living in numbness.

Yet even though nearly ten years had passed, that figure — her shy, timid look stealing glances at him, the sorrow of parting — he could never forget.

So when he saw this young girl, he fell. Old Hu plunged into love.

He often went to the garment factory entrance to secretly watch her, and from time to time sent people to deliver things.

Old Hu also took an indirect route, becoming good friends with the gatekeeper auntie's husband. Through that good friend blowing pillow-talk, winding this way and that, he obtained a great deal of information about this young girl.

He decisively began saving money, no longer spending freely, and the first big thing he did was to buy the residence he was renting.

For one, he had grown attached to this place, had very good relations with the neighbors, and did not want to move.

For another, this courtyard was actually quite nice — spacious enough, several sections deep, and especially very quiet. Although it looked dilapidated now, with just a little fixing up it would be a lasting ancestral property to pass down to descendants.

He had also seen clearly that as the garrison town developed, having one's own courtyard within the city walls would be something to make one very proud and envied.

The homeowner was a local. Recently he had been up to some business and seemed to have struck it rich, building another large compound by the lake on West Shuncheng Street. Hearing Old Hu's conveyed request to buy the house, and with Ward Chief Zhou's persuasion, he agreed without a second word and sold the residence to Old Hu.

In fact, from the time Old Hu had requested to rent, the homeowner had long since taken notice of him. After all, under Xuanfu Garrison's baojia system, if a tenant committed crimes, the homeowner also bore responsibility.

But after Old Hu was assessed as a swordsman and had the proper job of a bodyguard, he was at ease. Especially hearing that Old Hu was a mid-level swordsman, he was all the more interested in befriending such a man — after all, an extra friend means an extra path, doesn't it?

With his current wealth, a small courtyard was nothing in his eyes, so the two exchanged a few words, money on one hand, the deed on the other. Under Ward Chief Zhou's witness, and after signing the yamen contract papers, the deal was done — clean and efficient, one could say.

With a house, and having it renovated, Old Hu gained confidence and paid even closer attention to the young girl's movements.

In July, Old Hu made an infuriating discovery: a shifty-eyed, rat-faced fellow was also paying attention to this young girl, and from time to time would hang around the factory entrance fawning on her.

This was intolerable! In a great rage, Old Hu went up and unleashed a storm of fists and kicks, beating this fellow — who was actually quite handsome but in Old Hu's eyes looked shifty and rat-faced — until his head was covered in lumps. The matter blew up.

It turned out that fellow was a minor overseer for the local well-digging crew. Suffering such a beating, how could he let it go? He promptly gathered a gang of well-diggers to come demand justice.

How could the bodyguard agency brothers stand by and watch Old Hu take a loss? They too pulled out several dozen men. The two sides faced off, and the scene grew quite large at the time.

Afterward both parties were suppressed by the patrol station, each hauled in and fined a sum of money. Old Hu was in the wrong for hitting someone, and under the patrol station's mediation, he finally paid the fellow a sum for medical expenses to settle the matter. And so the incident passed.

Old Hu no longer hesitated. He hired a matchmaker to go propose to the young girl. To raise the chances of success, through Ward Chief Zhou's introduction, he also hired a military matchmaker renowned throughout Xuanfu Garrison.

Now when enlisting in the Jingbian Army, wives were generally assigned as part of the package. The Logistics Department had specially hired military matchmakers, and in their registers were recorded large numbers of good women of proper appearance and virtue, skilled in managing the household, specifically to build bridges and draw threads for the officers and soldiers.

Of course, in their spare time the military matchmakers also took on some civilian business. Sure enough, when they stepped in it was extraordinary — very soon Old Hu received the victorious good news: it was done.

Old Hu's anxious heart finally settled.

In truth, his qualifications were laid out plain: he had a large courtyard, a well-paying good job, and was tall and strapping. Few women would not feel moved when proposed to by such a man.

Even if his face was a bit... that, it did not matter. In the old days they spoke of a talented man and a beautiful woman — the woman needed good character and looks, the man only needed talent and ability. So Old Hu's success, while unexpected, was also within reason.

What he did not know, in fact, was that while he was paying attention to the young girl, was she not also secretly noticing him? After all, women are always sensitive.

The young girl had an older sister she depended on for survival. Unlike her shy nature, this older sister was quite shrewish. Back in the day, brandishing a cleaver, she had brought her younger sister a thousand li into Xuan Garrison, and fussed over this and that for her — the classic elder sister serving as mother.

She worked with her younger sister at the garment factory, and was herself married to the bookkeeper of an iron nail factory. Hearing what her younger sister secretly confided, she immediately launched an investigation.

Through the gatekeeper auntie's pillow-talk, winding this way and that, she likewise learned a great deal about Old Hu from the auntie's husband. The older sister was inwardly quite satisfied.

Hearing further that Old Hu had specially bought the residence, she nodded even more. And after that stormy incident, the older sister believed all the more that this kind of man was reliable, and that if her younger sister married him, she would have someone to depend on for life.

So when the military matchmaker arrived with betrothal gifts, she went with the flow and agreed. With the older sister making the decision, the young girl was also willing, and the matter was settled.

The day Old Hu married was quite lively. Colleagues from the bodyguard agency all came, and managers of every level came to offer congratulations. With the neighbors gathered too, the wine and feasting stretched all the way into the street — a great clamor for a time.

During the wedding night, looking at his wife's face, Old Hu, for reasons unknown, wept, and wept very bitterly.

Watching her husband weep in sorrow, the newlywed wife could only look at him at a loss.

Fortunately, though Old Hu wept, he did not delay the important business, and the night's exertions shall go unrecorded.

Married life was quite good. His wife was a traditionally virtuous person — marry a rooster, follow the rooster; marry a dog, follow the dog. When Old Hu told her to quit her job, she quit, and only did some weaving and embroidery at home.

Of course, having a family meant he was no longer just one person. Old Hu had to work hard for the family's livelihood. His colleagues were shocked to discover that Old Hu had changed, and rarely went out carousing with them anymore. Missing the man who paid the bill after feasts, the colleagues always felt something was lacking.

Gradually, Old Hu grew accustomed to married life, and even more accustomed to life in Xuanfu Garrison.

Only after marrying could he truly feel how hard-won the stability of life in this place was.

Here there were no roving bandits, no soldier-bandits, no scoundrels. At least when he went out, he did not have to worry about anything happening to his family, much less worry that when he returned, his home would be burned to white ash and his loved ones violated and murdered — wasn't that so?

Old Hu began diligently escorting shipments, striving to earn more money. Just as he was fighting for his future life, in September something happened.

The Intelligence Division came knocking.

It turned out that Ward Chief Zhou's other identity was as a member of the Intelligence Division. He had taken a liking to Old Hu, believed this man was also cut out for intelligence work, and reported him up the chain. Thus Old Hu entered the Intelligence Division's line of sight.

Of course, the rule of the Border Pacification Army was that those entrusted with important tasks must have a family, so at first they only kept an eye on him. Once Old Hu finally got married, they came knocking.

When the visitor revealed his identity, Old Hu nearly trembled. The Xuanfu Garrison Intelligence Division had always been shrouded in mystery — in his understanding, it was like the Eastern Depot and Western Depot of the Great Ming. The Brocade Guard.

When the Intelligence Division demanded to recruit him, could Old Hu refuse? And so he became yet another peripheral asset of the intelligence apparatus.

Afterwards, Old Hu felt dazed for a long while. He never imagined his identity would change again — now he was a spy.

For the time being, though, the Intelligence Division gave him no important assignments. They only had him gather some information along his escort routes. So, without him even noticing, Old Hu grew accustomed to yet another identity.

……

The past surged into his mind like a tide, and it was the clucking of the old hen in his hand that brought Old Hu back to his senses. He realized that, without knowing when, he had already reached his own doorstep.

Old Hu coughed once, pushed the door open, and went in. The courtyard was empty. He called out loudly, "Huiniang! Huiniang!"

Only after calling a few times did he hear a joyful voice from the side room say, "My husband is back?"

Then he saw a young woman with a slightly rounded belly come out to greet him — shy, delicate, with a timid air. The moment she saw his figure, her face lit up with joy.

Old Hu, however, glanced over toward the other side and frowned slightly. "Weaving again? How many times have I told you — now that you're with child, you mustn't overwork yourself. Why won't you listen?"

This young woman was none other than his wife, Sun Huiniang. She bit her lower lip and said softly, "It's only been a few months. It's no trouble."

Old Hu said, "What do you mean, no trouble? This is a very serious matter."

He pondered briefly. "Your belly's getting bigger by the day. Looks like we'll have to hire a serving woman."

Sun Huiniang said quietly, "Hiring a serving woman is very expensive — it costs silver. And my sister comes by sometimes to look after me."

Old Hu declared boldly, "What's a bit of silver? Your man can afford it. Besides, your sister has her own affairs. How can we trouble her with everything?"

Sun Huiniang fell silent. She always deferred to her husband — whatever he said, she accepted. She simply hated spending silver.

Having grown up in hardship, she was very tight with money, clutching every last coin and sliver.

Still, that her husband cared for her so — in her heart, she was happy.

Old Hu thrust the old hen and the food box forward and said smugly, "Here, for you."

Sun Huiniang let out a delighted cry. "I'll stew chicken soup for you later, husband."

Then she added, with a meaningful look, "Eating at a restaurant isn't cheap these days, is it?"

Old Hu said in a low voice, "A colleague treated me. Didn't cost me a copper."

Sun Huiniang said happily, "Truly?"

Old Hu said, "Of course. They just throw silver around. Look — none of these dishes have been touched, so I brought them back."

Sun Huiniang took them, reassured, and planned to heat them up and eat together with her husband.

Old Hu, however, suddenly remembered a remark he hadn't responded to. He smacked his head and said, "What do I need an old hen for? This was bought for you."

……

The aroma of the food and the chicken soup was rich and strong. Old Hu ate a little, then let his wife have the rest.

He watched her, beaming, and felt that all his efforts had been rewarded.

Then Sun Huiniang heated water for him to bathe and brewed tea for him. The two sat at the table, and as Old Hu drank his tea, he boasted to his wife about his escort adventures. Sun Huiniang kept gasping in wonder, gazing at him with ever greater admiration.

Seeing his wife like this, Old Hu bragged even more extravagantly. But looking at her adoring expression, and then at her lovely face, he suddenly…

He simply pulled her into his arms, stroked her belly, and sighed with regret.

Sun Huiniang blushed crimson and said softly, "Does my husband want it very much?"

She stole a glance at his face. Now that she was pregnant and unable to serve him, she worried her husband might seek out women in the brothels. Though she'd heard the brothels had monthly inspections, she still felt they were unclean, and the thought made her deeply uncomfortable.

Old Hu muttered, "It's been a while since I've done it. I do want it. Ah, forget it — I'll take care of it myself."

Sun Huiniang said quietly, "Let this slave help her husband."

She went to the kitchen and fetched a bottle of vegetable oil, poured some onto her hand. Old Hu lay comfortably on the bed, eyes closed, letting his wife do as she pleased, groaning with pleasure without cease.

At last, Old Hu finished. He lay panting on the bed, not moving a muscle.

Seeing her husband lying there with his eyes shut in contentment, Sun Huiniang looked at the leftover oil on her hand — and poured it back into the bottle.

……

The next morning, Old Hu was sprawled out, sleeping blissfully, when he suddenly heard someone knocking at the door outside. He muttered something, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Then, in a haze, he heard his wife speaking with someone: "Oh, it's Ward Chief Zhou, and Brother Kong, Brother Huang."

Old Hu's expression changed, and all sleepiness vanished. Then he heard Ward Chief Zhou's booming laugh: "Good morning, sister-in-law! Is Brother Hu at home?"

He heard his wife Sun Huiniang say, "He is. Ward Chief Zhou, please wait a moment — this slave will go wake her husband."

Old Hu rose silently, then went out. In the courtyard stood Ward Chief Zhou, Kong San, and Huang Weijie, all three smiling at him.

"Hu Tiande, the higher-ups have a mission for you!"

The group went to the rear courtyard, and Kong San said to Old Hu, his face expressionless.

He still had that peculiarly distinctive face, still dressed like a day laborer who sold his strength for a living. Beside him stood Huang Weijie, smiling — fair-skinned, tall and broad, dressed somewhat like a wealthy merchant. Their roles had changed now too; they had been transferred from the rescue team to another section of the Intelligence Department.

Old Hu sensed something ominous. He asked cautiously, "What mission?"

Kong San said coldly, "The roving bandits grow more brazen by the day. The Intelligence Department has decided to dispatch a large number of agents to infiltrate the bandit camps! Your mission is to go to Henan as well, and infiltrate the core Five Battalions of the Chuang bandits. Ideally, you will gain control of a body of men under your command."

"What?!"