Grinding to Martial Emperor from the Border Army

In fact, there was another reason Lu Yuan had changed his name, aside from it being his original name: his mother’s surname was also Lu.

Lady Lu was now completely disillusioned with the Zhang Family. She nodded emphatically and said, "Alright. I’ll pack our things immediately. We’re not staying with the Zhang Family any longer."

After she spoke, she turned to An Niang. "Hurry and pack our bags. We’re leaving today."

She couldn’t bear to stay in the Zhang residence a moment longer.

In Lady Lu’s heart, the Zhang Family were the ones who had plotted to murder her son. They had failed this time, but who knew if they would try again.

She dared not take that chance, so she was desperate to leave.

The other maids nearby looked completely helpless, but they didn’t dare say a word.

「The rear courtyard, in Zhang Hong’s residence.」

He was currently drinking tea and discussing Zhang Zhe’s upcoming wedding with his younger brother. The date was fast approaching, and they had to prepare for their trip to the Imperial City.

But just as the two were speaking...

CLACK! CLACK!

The sound of hurried footsteps came from the entrance. When they looked up, they saw Old Yu, the gatekeeper, approaching in a panic.

Zhang Hong frowned. "Old Yu, you’re a veteran of this household. What’s the meaning of this undignified display!"

Now that he had been promoted to State Governor, the Zhang Family’s prestige had risen accordingly. With Zhang Zhe about to become a Commandery Prince Consort, they had always prided themselves on being a great noble house, so of course he didn’t want to see his subordinates acting without discipline.

Old Yu froze in place, momentarily speechless.

Zhang He set down his teacup. "Go on," he said. "What is it?"

"My lords, it’s... it’s the Seventh Young Master. He’s back. He’s already at the Third Courtyard," Old Yu said, stealing glances at Zhang Hong as he spoke.

"He’s back? How did he get back? What is he doing here?" Zhang He fired off a series of questions before Zhang Hong could even speak.

Zhang Hong, however, just frowned. "So he’s back. Let him be. Zhe is about to become a Commandery Prince Consort, and our relationship with the General of Yunzhou is decent enough now. He shouldn’t make a fuss over that trivial matter from all those years ago."

"Now that Yuan has returned, we’ll just have to support him. That’s all."

He then continued impatiently, "Don’t bother reporting such trivial matters to us in the future. He’s just an exiled junior. Are we supposed to go and welcome him?

You’re becoming more and more witless, Old Yu."

There was a cold, hard edge to Zhang Hong’s voice.

Zhang He sipped his tea, his expression showing he completely agreed.

But Old Yu pursed his lips and spoke again. "Master, the Seventh Young Master didn’t return alone. He brought a group of Personal Guards with him. From the look of things, it seems he’s been promoted... to a Captain of the Northern Border."

CLANG!

The words had barely left his mouth when Zhang Hong, who was about to set down his teacup, fumbled. The cup dropped to the table. Though the fall wasn’t far enough to break it, it rattled incessantly.

The sound was exceptionally jarring in the quiet hall.

Zhang He was stunned as well.

Neither of them could process it. How had he gone from an exiled convict to a Captain?

They knew all too well how difficult it was for a commoner to get ahead in the army. The expression "to stare death in the face" wasn’t even enough to describe the hardship involved.

Most importantly, it wasn’t something that could be accomplished just by being unafraid to die; it also required immense talent.

After all, hadn’t Zhang Zhe, with all the support he had, only just managed to become a Captain?

Lu Yuan hadn’t even started out as a common soldier—he was an exiled convict.

However, Zhang Hong had seen his share of the world. He quickly composed himself and said, his expression normal, "Yuan must have had a rough time these past few years. He didn’t come to see us first upon his return; I fear he still resents us for what happened."

"I will go see him."

As he spoke, he and Zhang He stood up and walked outside, simultaneously signaling for Old Yu to withdraw.

After he left,

Zhang Hong and his brother made their way toward the Third Courtyard.

When they reached the entrance, they saw, just as described, two Armored Warriors standing guard outside. They were clad in black iron armor, with battle sabers at their waists.

The very air about them marked them as elites from the Border Army.

Zhang Hong shot a look at his younger brother. "I told you to keep tabs on Yuan, and now he’s a Captain and you didn’t know a thing? What have you been doing all this time!"

He deliberately kept his voice low, but his dissatisfaction was unmistakable.

He knew all too well the weight carried by the title of a Border Army Captain. It was a rank that had to be earned with blood and steel.

’At this point,’ he thought, ’this nephew of mine is probably known by almost everyone in the Northern Border.’

And yet, Zhang He had heard nothing. It was infuriating.

’Why did we make Lu Yuan take the fall in the first place? Wasn’t it for the family’s sake, to help a descendant of the next generation forge a path in the military?’

’But what now? He had come so far, and they had remained completely oblivious.’

Zhang Hong understood perfectly now. They had missed the best opportunity to salvage their relationship.

Zhang He stammered, "I... I really didn’t know. Mr. Bai is my source, and he said he could never find any news of Yuan. I wasn’t hiding it on purpose, Brother! If you don’t believe me, we can go ask Mr. Bai ourselves in a moment."

He was clearly anxious as well.

Zhang Hong glanced at his brother and said nothing more.

But his displeasure was palpable.

Then, he strode directly toward the courtyard.

"Halt!"

Just as they neared the entrance, Wei Yong’s arm shot out, blocking their path.

Zhang Hong stared at him, his eyes turning cold and menacing.

The pressure of his Innate Realm aura locked onto Wei Yong in an instant.

Yet the man didn’t flinch. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead; the pressure was clearly making it hard for him to breathe, but he gritted his teeth and held his ground.