Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Embroidered Uniform Guard

An intelligence network is, in essence, a person’s eyes. It can keenly observe every move of the enemy, and when planted in every corner of the world, it becomes a shadow in the darkness.

The importance of information gathering cannot be overstated. Now, as the chaos of the Han dynasty has descended upon the land, Zifan too must establish his own unique intelligence network—the Embroidered Guard.

The Embroidered Guard was a specialized military and governmental intelligence agency, originally founded in a previous life by Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang of the Ming as the “Imperial Bodyguard Command,” later renamed the “Imperial Guard Command,” which oversaw ceremonial and security services for the emperor. In the fifteenth year of the Hongwu reign (1382), the Imperial Guard Command and its subsidiary bodies were abolished and replaced with the Embroidered Guard. The early Ming military system consisted of “Guards” and “Battalions,” with each Guard commanding about five thousand regular soldiers, further subdivided into battalions of a thousand or a hundred men. The imperial garrison in the capital controlled forty-eight such units. In the fifteenth year of Hongwu, Zhu Yuanzhang reformed the imperial guards, establishing twelve personal guard units, of which the most important was the Embroidered Guard.

As the emperor’s personal military bodyguard, the Embroidered Guard’s main functions were to provide close protection, conduct patrols and arrests, gather intelligence, and interrogate suspects. They also participated in collecting military intelligence and subverting enemy commanders.

Yue Feng waved his hand, and immediately a soldier came forward carrying a tray. Yue Feng pointed to one of the garments and spoke slowly: “From today onward, our Embroidered Guard is officially established, loyal in service to the Governor of Youzhou, Zifan. You will be stationed in every corner of the world. As the Chief Commander of the Embroidered Guard, I will assign you your tasks in batches. As you can see, these garments are our distinctive uniforms.”

The senior officials of the Embroidered Guard wore three kinds of ceremonial garb: the Python Robe, the Flying Fish Robe, and the Bull-Fighting Robe.

The Python Robe was an imperial bestowal; wearing it required a jade belt. Resembling the emperor’s dragon robe, it was not a standard official’s garment but was granted as a special favor to eunuchs and high ministers in the Ming, considered an immense honor. Here, it serves as the official robe of Yue Feng, commander of the Embroidered Guard.

An account from the Wanli era states: “The python robe resembles the dragon robe of the sovereign, only lacking one claw.” Another historical record notes: “Eunuchs near the emperor must wear the python robe, embroidered with serpents on both sides, fastened with a phoenix belt. Next is the flying fish... The single-python version features two serpents embroidered on either lapel; the seated-python version, considered more prestigious, adds a frontal serpent motif on the chest and back. Another variant, with a cloud-patterned border at the knees, decorates the robe and skirt, known as the knee border.”

Yue Feng then pointed to another robe, speaking decisively: “The Flying Fish Robe is a formal attire second only to the python robe. By the Zhengde period, even lower-ranking officers could wear it. Later, during the reigns of Jiajing and Longqing, this attire was also awarded to ministers and generals. Only officials of certain rank may don the Flying Fish or Bull-Fighting Robe. The Bull-Fighting Robe is bestowed upon first-rank officials, embroidered with mythical creatures.”

“From today, we Embroidered Guards will be the specters in the shadows. You two hundred will be divided into four squads. I will continually assign you tasks, and in a few days, you will face your final evaluation.”

“The basic training for the Embroidered Guard covers five aspects: balance, agility, strength, endurance, and special skills. Balance training begins with walking on a bamboo pole until you can stand atop a rounded one without slipping. The pole is then raised three feet off the ground, and you must walk it with ease. The height is increased gradually, up to thirty or forty feet, until you no longer fear heights, able to leap and tumble as if on level ground. With such balance, you’ll be able to move swiftly across rooftops, walls, and trees.”

A month passed in the blink of an eye. Yue Feng, hands clasped behind his back, stood before the children with a fierce expression. “It has been a month,” he said, “and I have witnessed your efforts. If the point of martial arts is to defeat the enemy, then the ability to kill in a single move is paramount. You must engage in as much practical combat as possible, so that you can accomplish your mission under any hardship.”

Yue Feng then gestured toward Zifan. “This is your lord, Governor of Youzhou, Zifan. Today’s final test is for all of you to attack him together. If you manage to defeat him, you’ll have a feast tonight.”

Upon hearing this, the children hesitated, none daring to step forward. After all, if they, as his followers, managed to win, they might be punished or ridiculed for so many attacking one. To lose would be a laughingstock.

Zifan smiled kindly as he approached. “Do not worry. Come at me with all you have—I promise you will be safe. No need to hold back.”

The children looked at each other, uncertain. At last, one boy clenched his teeth and stepped forward, erupting with astonishing speed as he reached Zifan and swung his fist at Zifan’s forehead.

A metallic clang rang out, as if steel struck steel. The boy staggered back, arms limp at his sides, staring in disbelief at Zifan, who stood unharmed. Seeing this, the rest felt reassured and rushed forward, surrounding Zifan in a Tai Chi formation—a strategy capable of both attack and defense, yet none realized that Zifan himself had devised this formation and knew its every weakness.

In moments, the children all lay sprawled on the ground, each defeated in turn. Zifan walked over to Yue Feng, clapping him on the shoulder. “Their physical training is impressive, but they lack experience, and the ruthless edge of the battlefield. Still, to have come this far is no small feat. Give them a feast tonight, and teach them the importance of cooperation in the future. Even I cannot face four hands with just two fists. Tomorrow, I will personally instruct them.”

“Yes, my lord,” Yue Feng replied, bowing.

By Zifan’s order, craftsmen fashioned wooden dummies in human shapes, posed in various stances—standing, walking, crouching, leaning—every possible position. Each dummy was fixed in a single pose.

Each day the children trained with these dummies, approaching in the most ordinary and unremarkable manner before drawing their blades in a seamless flow—unsheathing, slashing, rotating, thrusting—driving the blade deep into the dummy. With a swift withdrawal, a twist, and the blade returned to the sleeve, one attack was complete.

Yue Feng supervised, demanding that the young assassins’ movements be natural, fluid, and quick, with the blade invisible until the strike landed—still hidden in the sleeve. The targets were always fixed and few, but each was a vital point, a blow meant to kill in a single move.

Each day, these actions—draw, rotate, thrust, withdraw, twist, sheath—were performed thousands of times, until the dummies were reduced to splinters.

The next day, Zifan appeared at the training grounds, seeing the children already prepared and eager. “Today, we will study traps and camouflage. If you find yourself in conflict and cannot persuade your opponent, it is better to guide him into error according to his own desires.”

“In conversation, you can set a verbal snare; once he enters it, he will err. A well-laid trap must be deceptive and tempting, so you can lead your opponent by the nose.”

“By using this method, you can greatly reduce resistance in direct confrontation. The key lies in the word ‘lure.’ However, this is not simply about deception, but about leading others to submit to your will and accept the truth.”

“As for camouflage, you must disguise yourself so the enemy cannot detect you, striking when least expected. The simplest way is to wear nightclothes. You can also use colored cloth or local plants and vines as disguise. In the forest, cut bark and stick it to your body, cover yourself in leaves, and use the terrain to build natural cover.”

Agility training began in childhood, focusing on special exercises—jumping over ropes strung with blades, and later, running dangerous obstacle courses filled with hazards. Any slip or slow reaction meant injury. The standards for agility were exceedingly strict.

“Basic training includes balance, agility, strength, endurance, and special skills. Balance training starts with walking on bamboo poles, progressing to standing atop rolling poles without slipping, then to heights of three or four feet above ground, and eventually up to thirty or forty feet, until one feels no fear of heights and can leap and tumble as if on solid ground. Only then can you run across rooftops, walls, and trees as if flying.”

Agility training involved repeated drills—leaping over ropes strung with blades, running through obstacle courses filled with dangers, where any misstep would result in injury. The standards were exacting.

Endurance training was divided into static and dynamic methods. Static training required hanging from a tree by both hands, with the ground below filled with hidden weapons, forbidding the trainee from letting go. Dynamic training involved long-distance running—a skilled assassin, combined with leaping, could run over one hundred and fifty miles in a single day, the equivalent of a marathon daily.

Strength training aimed to maximize physical force, employing many methods. In addition to standard exercises, there were “bizarre strength” methods to temper willpower, endurance, and survival skills—such as fasting for days without moving, killing one’s own comrades, or fighting wild beasts—grueling ordeals beyond imagination.

Special skills training covered a range of martial arts techniques: underwater breath-holding, unarmed combat, swordsmanship, hidden weapons, disguise, pharmacology, poison and antidote, and even sharpening one’s hearing and sense of smell. High-level survival skills in the wild, such as enduring hunger and thirst, were essential.

Besides stealth and concealment, proficiency with hidden weapons was another hallmark. These included poisoned darts and sharpened coins, as well as keys, hooks, and chisels. Everyone was required to master throwing poisoned coins.

On the battlefield, killing with a single strike is paramount. Never give your opponent a chance to breathe, nor allow your own heart to soften—for hesitation will be your fatal flaw, Zifan said, turning away.

“Your martial skills and abilities have soared. Today, I will train you in bloodlust. Before me are chickens, ducks, and sheep. I order you to kill them all, and eat them, blood and all.”

With that, Zifan seized a chicken, drew his curved blade, and severed its head in one clean motion—without the slightest hesitation. The children squeezed their eyes shut at the sight. Some mustered their courage to grip the knife, but froze, unable to strike; others did not even dare touch the blade. Time ticked by.

At last, one bold child hacked off a chicken’s head—fierce and unhesitating. Amidst blood and flesh, all the children passed the test of killing.

The next step was to eat all the bloody meat, leaving no trace—an ordeal meant to teach them survival in the harshest conditions.

Eyes shut, the children stuffed the meat into their mouths, chewing furiously. Gradually, their expressions relaxed.

It seemed the training was complete; a murderous aura had begun to seep into the children. Now, what they needed was to carry out their missions.

The Embroidered Guard was officially established.