Soul of the Revered Banner
Chapter 40: Taking the Pill

Crack-crack-crack-crack.

All of Chen Quan’s joints were dislocated at once.

His head slammed into the ground, half of his face pressed against the cold, hard brick floor, completely immobilized.

Old Xiang removed the black cloth covering his face, pulled out a cloth pouch from his chest, and took out a silver needle coated with some unknown substance.

"You recognize me. You should know I’m a Baihu Officer of the Embroidered Guards."

"A Baihu must study the ways of torture."

"This needle technique is famous even among the Embroidered Guardss. It’s called the 'Three Needles of the Yama King.'"

"Even the toughest men can’t withstand all three needles."

"Back when the Crown Prince ascended the throne at his father’s spirit memorial, someone conspired to rebel."

"After two needles, they spilled everything."

"Today, you’re lucky enough to experience it yourself."

Old Xiang spoke very slowly.

Perhaps it was to break down the victim's mental defenses through words, or perhaps it was simply because he had no one to talk to and could only share the details with his enemy.

But to Chen Quan, the words struck like muffled thunder, a ghostly summons dragging him toward death.

The Embroidered Guards!

Just hearing that name made Chen Quan tremble all over.

No one who entered the prisons of the Embroidered Guards kept secrets.

To people like him, the Embroidered Guards was the living King of Hell.

And now he was about to be subjected to one of their most terrifying tortures.

One of the Embroidered Guard’s most notorious punishments.

This kind of “honor,” he would rather not have it.

Chen Quan frantically shook his head, eyes full of pleading.

"Want to talk now?"

Old Xiang reattached Chen Quan’s jaw.

Chen Quan’s voice trembled. “Master Xiang… it’ll kill me.”

“I really don’t know who targeted you.”

“We just had a conflict, I’m willing to compensate.”

“I’ll even raise your son for the rest of his life without a word of complaint!”

Old Xiang’s previously calm expression twisted into savagery: “You won’t cry until you see the coffin.”

As he spoke, he dislocated Chen Quan’s jaw again.

Then raised the silver needle and plunged it into his spine.

Directly hitting the nerves.

Old Xiang also manipulated Chen Quan’s vocal cords, so despite the immense agony, not a single sound escaped.

Chen Quan convulsed as if in a seizure, foaming at the mouth, veins bulging grotesquely on his face, writhing in pain.

But with all his joints dislocated, he couldn’t move.

Snot and tears gushed out uncontrollably, twisted and tormented like a fish dragged ashore, mouth agape, eyes rolled white.

It lasted a full ten breaths.

Old Xiang withdrew the needle and reattached Chen Quan’s jaw.

Chen Quan gasped desperately for fresh air.

"I… I’ll talk."

"I’ll talk!"

"It was Wen Fu, the steward of the second branch of Marquis Jing'an’s household."

"He gave us two hundred taels of silver, told us you had lost your Baihu post, thrown into prison to guard the gates."

"Said even if your son was crippled, you wouldn’t seek revenge."

Chen Quan spilled everything, leaving nothing out. Because it was too easy to verify.

They clearly never intended to hide, blatantly letting you know that crushing you was no harder than crushing an ant.

Two stray dogs could maul your son to death.

Just like the man said, if Xiang Wen had only been crippled, he wouldn’t have sought revenge. But now his son was dead.

The scar on Old Xiang’s face twisted like a centipede.

He pulled out the Soul Banner from his chest.

“To die under an immortal master’s treasure… you could consider that an honorable death.”

On the way back, Old Xiang had sensed the Soul Banner had absorbed some sort of spirit.

Could this thing absorb human souls too?

Old Xiang didn’t know but he was willing to try.

He nailed Chen Quan in place.

Gray mist was sucked into the Soul Banner.

Old Xiang grinned.

He checked the breath of the prostitute nearby, confirming she was still unconscious.

Old Xiang hesitated but ultimately didn’t kill her.

Back when he served, if the order was to leave none alive, he could only obey, despite his discomfort.

Now, with no one left in his life, he didn’t want to spill more blood and burden the reincarnation of his wife and son.

Xiang Hu grinned bitterly at himself, mocking his own fear.

Once a butcher of men… now too timid to kill.

The entire night, a storm of blood.

The Wild Dog Gang was exterminated. All three deputy-leaders killed in a single strike.

The leader’s body was so mutilated, it couldn’t even be stitched back together.

Old Xiang dragged his weary body home.

Despite the interrogations, all the intel he gained amounted to the same thing.

He had killed the members of the Wild Dog Gang. While they were the direct culprits in Xiang Wen’s death, and the indirect cause of his wife’s, they were not the masterminds.

The true mastermind was still living comfortably, unrepentant.

Old Xiang’s heart ached like it had been carved out.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to reach Marquis Jing'an’s estate, he simply couldn’t get in.

He had walked by at night once, but the experts inside immediately sensed him.

Fortunately, they didn’t pursue.

The Marquis’s estate was fortified beyond compare, with countless elite guards. Charging in would be suicide.

If he were to carry out an assassination, he would first need to capture and interrogate the steward of the second branch.

The massacre of the Wild Dog Gang seemed to have little impact on Liang City overall.

However, his time was running short.

Even though he’d covered his tracks, even cleaned up the crime scenes, the Embroidered Guards would still find the flaws, trace the hints. Their methods were unmistakable, and the traces couldn’t be erased.

Because he knew them too well.

This was how the Embroidered Guards operated from within.

With their efficiency, they might trace it back to him very soon.

"What should I do now…" Old Xiang fell to his knees, fists clenched.

He was lost.

He couldn’t enter the Marquis’s estate.

And his former patron had fallen from power, no longer able to protect him.

Perhaps because he had no one to talk to, Old Xiang pulled out the Soul Banner.

“Magical treasure… oh magical treasure… what should I do…”

He channeled his internal energy.

Tu Shanjun suddenly felt he could move again.

The swirling black mist inside the banner twisted into legible words:

“Take the pill.”

“Power.”

Just four characters.

Old Xiang stared at the banner, dazed.

He didn’t know if it was coincidence, or if the artifact truly understood his thoughts.

“Pill?”

“Power?”

“Eat…”

Old Xiang stood up from the ground.

He rummaged through his deepest storage chest.

Scattering random items everywhere, until he retrieved a small box and placed it on the table.

The Yin Soul Pill lay quietly within a handkerchief.

Like a piece of black glass.

Even the surrounding light seemed absorbed by it.

Old Xiang picked it up.

He truly doubted, was this thing really edible?

Would eating it actually grant him power?

Tu Shanjun was also hesitant, truth be told, he didn’t know whether a normal person could gain strength from consuming a Yin Soul Pill.

For cultivators, Yin Soul Pills were tremendous tonics that could massively boost spiritual energy accumulation.

As long as one didn’t eat them like candy and develop a yin-fiend constitution, there were no side effects.

It was absolutely a wondrous elixir.

There were only two choices, eat or don’t eat.

Gain power, or keep waiting for a better chance.

But time waited for no one. By morning, the bodies would be discovered, the Embroidered Guards would step in, and they'd quickly follow the clues to him.

To Tu Shanjun, Old Xiang had already reached a dead end.

Only one road left, to gamble with his life.

Old Xiang clenched the Soul Banner.

Gritted his teeth and swallowed the Yin Soul Pill.

It melted instantly in his mouth, transforming into a sharp, cold current that surged through his limbs, bones, and meridians.

Old Xiang was stunned. He had expected it to choke but it melted like water.

What followed was biting cold.

A vast energy surged violently, sweeping through his meridians toward his dantian.

Agony. Convulsions.

The cold made Old Xiang curl into a ball.

Inside the banner, Tu Shanjun frowned. When Li Qingfeng took the pill, the reaction was much milder, totally smooth.

But now Old Xiang’s lips were already turning purple. He was trembling violently.

Even after piling on several blankets, the cold didn’t subside.

Even his consciousness began to blur.

“Don’t tell me he’s gonna die…” Tu Shanjun muttered.

If he had known, he would've had Old Xiang test it on someone else. Using himself as a lab rat was too risky.

But it was all too sudden, there was no time for anything else.

No one knew how much time passed.

Suddenly, Old Xiang shot up.

“I’m… still alive.” Old Xiang checked himself. Still intact, not frozen to death.

Though he still felt cold.

Sensing his dantian, he found his internal energy had doubled.

"This-!"

Old Xiang was dumbfounded.

What kind of treasure could double your internal energy overnight?

It had returned him to the level of a quasi first-rate expert.

Though he had nearly frozen to death, the rewards far exceeded his expectations.

And this kind of heavenly energy-enhancing elixir had come from this banner artifact of a demonic immortal master.

“Good thing… he survived.”

Tu Shanjun let out a long breath.

If Old Xiang had died from taking it, he’d have to start planning all over again.

(Chapter End)