Legend of the Female General – CH 008

Chapter 8. Letong Manor.

Wang Jiugui was convinced he must be dreaming. He pinched his thigh hard and immediately yelped in pain.

This did not feel like a dream.

But if it was not a dream, how could he explain what was happening before his eyes?

In mere moments, his lackeys had been knocked to the ground in disarray, while the instigator stood with one foot on the stone steps, dusting off her clothes. Sensing Wang Jiugui’s gaze, she looked over, her clear, bright eyes sending a chill down his spine.

He had never seen He Yan like this.

He Yan was not supposed to be like this. He Yan was beautiful, sharp-tongued, vain, and petty. Women like her were a dime a dozen in Shuojing—most of them ambitious but destined for humble lives. The lucky ones might climb into wealthy households as concubines; the unlucky ones would marry ordinary men and spend their lives in resentment. He Sui had raised her like a young lady, and He Yan had never so much as touched a sharp object in her life. Her hands were meant for playing the qin or painting—certainly not for fighting.

Yet just moments ago, Wang Jiugui had watched those same hands form fists and send one of his burly men crashing to the ground with a single punch. He still remembered how she had grabbed his arm—before he could even feel the usual thrill of her touch, pain shot through him, and he howled. Those were not fingers—they were sharper than an axe!

This woman was terrifying. What kind of drug had she taken to gain such strength overnight? How could one person take down over a dozen of his men?

Wang Jiugui felt like crying.

Before he could figure out how to beg for mercy, the young woman strode toward him.

“Spare me, My Lady!” His rationality vanished in an instant, and the words tumbled out. “I was blind! Please, be merciful and let me go!”

“Do not send me gifts like this anymore,” He Yan said gently. “I do not like them.”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, yes!” Wang Jiugui stammered, afraid she would not believe him. He hastily added, “Tell me what you like, and I will buy it for you… Would that be alright?”

“No need. I do not accept favors without reason,” He Yan smiled. “We are neighbors, after all. Just do not play such jokes again.”

“Of course, of course!” Wang Jiugui was nearly moved to tears.

“But there’s one more thing I’d like to ask you,” she said.

A short while later, He Yan left the scene of devastation behind, walking away with ease while groans filled the air. She moved lightly, unaware that on one of the upper floors of the Zuiju Tower, someone had loosened their grip on a folding fan, letting the gauzy curtain obscure the mess below.

“Since when did women in the capital become so fierce and formidable?” A light, amused voice laced with mockery rang out. “Is this why you’ve been so reluctant to arrange a marriage, Uncle?”

His words were met with silence.

Undeterred, the speaker pressed on, “Uncle, why not find out which young lady that was? If she’s suitable, why not take her in as a female guard for your household? At night, she could even—”

Thud. Someone tapped the table lightly, and the lid of the half-empty teacup flew straight into the speaker’s mouth, silencing him.

“Mmph! Mmph!” The man flailed indignantly.

“One more word, and I will throw you off this tower,” a lazy, indifferent voice cut off any further protests.

The room fell silent.

The melody of “Flowing Light” plucked on the strings of a zither gently filled the elegant chamber, veiling the spring scenery outside the window. Tea continued to be sipped, and someone muttered a small “stingy,” quickly drowned out by the music.

…

He Yunsheng breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing He Yan return unharmed.

“Are you alright? Where are Wang Jiugui and the others?” He Yunsheng asked, noticing Wang Jiugui’s absence.

“I reasoned with them and moved them with emotion, so they left. They even said they’d come to apologize another day and would not do such things again,” He Yan replied. “Do not worry about them; let’s keep selling the cakes.”

He Yunsheng looked at her skeptically.

If Wang Jiugui were truly that reasonable, he would not be called Wang Jiugui. But He Yan seemed unwilling to elaborate, and she appeared unharmed. Being young, He Yunsheng soon put the matter out of his mind.

By nightfall, after dinner together, He Yunsheng was about to go to bed when He Yan suddenly pulled him back.

“What is it?”

“Do you have any clean clothes?” He Yan asked.

He Yunsheng looked puzzled.

“I want to see if any of your clothes need mending,” He Yan explained. “I can help sew them tonight.”

He Yunsheng’s expression nearly cracked.

From the day he was born until now, this was the first time He Yan had offered to mend his clothes. For a moment, the young boy felt an unfamiliar surge of emotion. Still, he hesitated and asked, “Have you ever handled a needle and thread?”

He seemed to recall that He Yan did not do needlework—Qingmei was the one who handled sewing.

“You underestimate me. Of course I have.” Of course, she had not.

He Yan gave him a push. “Go get them, and bring all you can.”

Obediently, He Yunsheng gathered a pile of clothes. He Yan hoisted them up and headed to her room. He Yunsheng still hesitated. “Should we not let Qingmei do it?”

“Qingmei’s work cannot compare to mine. Go to sleep; you have to wake early tomorrow,” He Yan said.

After sending the boy off, He Yan returned to her room, sifting through the clothes until she found a chestnut-colored round-collared, narrow-sleeved robe. He Sui must have truly given all his silver to his daughter, for He Yunsheng did not even have decent clothes—just rough cloth garments and riding pants. This robe was likely a hand-me-down; its color had faded from washing.

Fortunately, she and He Yunsheng were about the same height, so it fit her well enough. She tied her hair into a man’s topknot, plucked a twig from outside to fasten it, darkened her complexion, and thickened her eyebrows. Looking in the mirror, He Yan saw a fresh-faced young lad.

In her past life, she had mastered the art of disguising herself as a man—so well that no one had ever noticed anything amiss for years. Now, dressed as a man again, she felt no awkwardness. It was a shame, though. She had hoped to look like a dashing young master, but in these clothes, she resembled a fallen noble’s son—barely passable.

She paced the room a few times, confident everything was in order, then quietly opened the door, slipped into the courtyard, and agilely vaulted over the wall to the street.

The capital had no curfew this season, and the streets were lively and bustling. He Yan followed the brightly lit paths, where songs and laughter drifted from the pleasure boats along the shore, vendors loudly hawked their wares, and the vibrant spring night painted a scene of prosperity.

It had been many years since she had been able to walk freely like this. Not since He Rufei returned to the He family. Not since she married into the Xu family. Not since she lost her sight.

These lively, bustling, beautiful things seemed to have become distant memories for her. Yet tonight, carried by the lakeside breeze, they returned to her once more—she was free.

Having left the He family behind, everything was starting anew. In her heart, she thanked the heavens.

Not far from Ziuyu Tower in the capital, outside the brightly lit hall, radiant young women were cheerfully welcoming guests.

This was no pleasure house, but the largest and most famous gambling den in the capital, Letong Manor.

He Yan paused before Letong Manor.