General Zong Quanwu of the Gui De Army found himself perplexed by two matters. First, how the Emperor could appoint a woman as the Chief Military Marquess, and second, how this very woman dared to investigate him—a high-ranking court official of the third degree. What's more, her very first discovery was a restricted military weapon: the foot-drawn crossbow.
This type of crossbow, due to its immense draw strength—nearly two hundred catties—could not be cocked by hand without risking injury to the back. It required the use of one's foot, hence its name. Crafted from premium sour jujube wood, its bolts were straight and true, with the mechanism and arrowheads glinting with a cold metallic sheen. Bai Xianyu held the weapon in his hand, examining it with care.
"General," he clicked his tongue twice, speaking leisurely, "you know the rules. This cannot be brought into the city."
Such a weapon had a range of two hundred zhang—it could be fired from the Zhuque Gate straight into the Imperial Palace. Naturally, it was forbidden.
Zong Quanwu's face darkened."I am a court-appointed general of the Gui De Army," he snapped. "It is perfectly ordinary for a soldier to carry arms in his luggage. Are your guards now disregarding the safety of Great Tang over a matter like this? I have urgent matters to report to His Majesty—step aside!"
So only you know how to protect the people? Am I not also their shield?
Seeing Zong Quanwu attempt sophistry, Bai Xianyu turned his gaze to Ye Jiao. The soldier who had been struck earlier was under Bai's command—this inspection was partly a performance to uphold discipline. But when it came to quarrels or offending powerful men, he preferred to let Ye Jiao handle it.
Ye Jiao did not protest. She merely nodded and said, "The General does have a point. However, as the rest of the luggage remains unchecked, it would be premature to allow passage."
Zong Quanwu took a step forward, brow raised."The rest are all bows and crossbows," he said.
"Ha!" Ye Jiao gave a cold laugh and walked toward the second carriage."So the General has traveled a thousand li back to the capital to deliver weapons to the Ministry of War?"
As she reached to open a locked chest, Zong Quanwu's expression changed—he stepped forward to stop her. The military guards surged forward to inspect the baggage, yet Zong intercepted only Ye Jiao. His selective interference betrayed his guilt.
Ye Jiao fiddled with the brass lock, weighing whether to smash it or search for the key. But before she could decide, Zong Quanwu drew his blade.
"Impudent girl!" he roared, swinging the blade with gleaming menace at the space between Ye Jiao and the wooden chest. The military guards cried out in alarm, but they stood too far to intervene.
Ye Jiao did not flinch. Nor did she cower. She too drew her blade.
Her saber, over two chi long, met Zong's sword midair—edge to edge—catching the strike head-on. Then, without pause, she slashed downward at the chest.
Crack!A sharp, clean noise. A wide corner of the reinforced chest was cleaved off.
Golden ingots spilled out, clanging onto the ground in a dazzling cascade, stunning the surrounding onlookers.
Ye Jiao's hands were numb, and her saber nearly slipped from her grasp. She staggered aside with a wry smile."Such extravagance, General. Have you perhaps collected three centuries' worth of wages?"
The carriage was massive, and there were over ten such chests. If each held gold ingots, this was no mere salary. A general sent to the frontier to train troops now returned with treasure—was it military training, or embezzlement and plunder?
Enraged, Zong Quanwu seized the sash fluttering from Ye Jiao's robe.
"Courting death!" he growled, yanking her toward him and swinging his sword once more.
In terms of martial strength alone, Ye Jiao was no match for Zong Quanwu. Both she and Bai Xianyu knew this. Bai instinctively lunged to intervene, but it was too late.
Ye Jiao barely managed to raise her blade in defense. Standing atop the carriage, her numbed wrists failed her. She stumbled and fell off the edge.
It's over, she thought, I'm going to be disfigured.
She flailed in panic. Her saber slipped from her grasp. Yet her body never struck the ground. A steed charged through the fray. Its rider leaned low, caught her around the waist, and with a swift pivot, set her sideways upon the saddle.
The movement was crisp, fluid, and lightning-quick.
"What finesse!" the crowd erupted with cheers.
Ye Jiao turned her head and saw the grim face of Yan Congzheng, Commander of the Left Guard. He circled the luggage slowly before bringing the horse to a halt.
"Who dares brawl at the city gates?" Yan Congzheng demanded.
"Him!" Ye Jiao pointed directly at Zong Quanwu."He carried restricted weaponry and attempted to force his way through the gate!"
"Seize him!" Yan raised his hand. Behind him, the Imperial Guards responded in unison, drawing their blades and surrounding Zong's men in a disciplined sweep.
Yan Congzheng had not come alone. He had brought the elite troops guarding the capital.
Faced with the Imperial Guard, Zong's demeanor softened. He released Ye Jiao's sash and stepped forward."Commander Yan, we've met before," he said in a low voice. "I knew your esteemed father—"
"If the General wishes to pay my father a visit," Yan interrupted coolly, "he is welcome to do so another day."
Zong's face paled.
Clearly, Yan would not show favoritism. Zong had no choice but to restrain his fury.
"The military inspectors damaged my baggage while searching it," he said. "I simply lost my temper."
"Lost your temper?" Ye Jiao scoffed from horseback."You tried to kill someone."
More and more citizens were gathering at the city gate. Zong knew that if he didn't leave soon, censors would denounce him before he even met the Emperor.
He bit down his rage and said, "Allow me to return to my residence. I shall report the matter to His Majesty myself."
Zong's rank exceeded Yan's. The latter hadn't escalated the conflict—he had spoken politely, which left Yan momentarily uncertain.
Just then, the sound of horse hooves rang crisply through the avenue. A eunuch in violet robes, surrounded by Imperial Guards, arrived and shouted hoarsely:
"An imperial edict!"
An edict? From the Emperor?
Zong was bewildered. All this over a scuffle with some lowly military officers?
As he stood dazed, everyone around him—guards, officers, civilians—dropped to their knees. With no other choice, Zong knelt too, unease stirring within him.
Half an hour earlier, the Emperor had dismissed the bickering courtiers, telling them to return to their ministries. As he sipped his tea and flipped through memorials, he listened to the eunuch's report on the day's happenings in Chang'an.
Of course, what he cared about most—was Ye Jiao.
Upon hearing that she had hung the brother of Consort Zhao upside down and established her authority at the military post, the Emperor burst into laughter.
"See?" he turned to Grand Chamberlain Gao Fu."Who dares question her now? She's managing things perfectly."
The Emperor was thoroughly pleased with his appointment.
Gao Fu, however, wore a worried look."Consort Zhao may not take this well…"
"No matter," the Emperor waved it off."Send word—I'll spend the night at Yunxue Pavilion. Cheer her up."
Yunxue Pavilion was Consort Zhao's residence. The Emperor was more than willing to placate her for the sake of entertainment.
But just then, a censor requested an audience, opening with tales of Ye Jiao's patrols disturbing the peace.
The Emperor frowned.Are chickens and dogs more important than the safety of the people?
He cleared his throat."Patrolling is a military duty. Startling a few chickens and dogs is hardly worth a fuss. No need to nitpick."
He raised his teacup, blew the foam aside, and took a large sip.
"But—" the censor lifted his tablet,"—was flinging manure at Prince Zhao's residence also part of her patrol duties?"
Pfft—Tea sprayed across the memorial in front of the Emperor, blurring the ink beyond recognition.
He shot up, eyes wide, beard dripping."Manure?! Say that again—give me every detail!"
When the censor finally left, the Emperor roared with laughter."Serves them right!" he howled, slapping the imperial desk as Gao Fu mopped up the tea.
"She's got quite the imagination, hasn't she? Sword—"