A Willing Mistake, My Lady – Chapter 95

Descending from the Sky

“It hurts a little, bear with it!”

Ye Huaiqing gripped the longsword in his hand, his eyes fixed unblinking on the broad blade pressed against Jiang Chenyu’s neck, his mind already buzzing with several ways to die in apology.

            

“I was wondering why they’d bring a girl along. On closer look, she’s truly a beauty! Hahahahaha.” The Qiang Tribe chief reached out with calloused fingers and pressed them against Jiang Chenyu’s face twice.

Jiang Chenyu’s heart was about to leap out of her throat. She forced herself to stay calm, shrinking her presence to the absolute minimum so as not to make General Ye lose his composure on her account.

Across the barrier between the two armies, Jiang Ning and Cuiwan watched in helpless anxiety. Cuiwan pressed a hand to her chest, looking ready to fight the enemy soldiers to the death, but Jiang Ning held her back. Useless sacrifice served no purpose. For now, they needed to hear the other side’s demands. With Jiang Chenyu’s face, she could buy a while longer.

            

Jiang Ning’s own body was drenched in cold sweat, yet she still hoped the enemy chief was a lecher—if so, Jiang Chenyu wouldn’t lose her life easily.

“All’s fair in war. Since the woman meant as a gift for the General has been caught by you, tell me what you want. If you’re going to ask an astronomical price¹, forget it. She’s just a woman—lose this one and find another. And none of you will be leaving Great Qian territory.” Ye Huaiqing dared not let these people know that Jiang Chenyu was General Shen’s wife. If they found out, the consequences would be dire. For now, he could only steady them bit by bit.

“A woman for General Shen, eh? Great Qian’s general certainly has fortune with beauties! This little woman is so fresh and pretty—it’d be a shame to kill her. Leave the one thousand carts of grain behind, and I’ll return this beauty to you. Otherwise, I’ll have to reward her to my men behind me.” Yeli Sangwu’s downward-slanting eyes brimmed with greed and ambition, a shameless smile on his face.

            

At this moment, the tall, thin man had Jiang Chenyu by the throat with his fingers. One squeeze and she would perish². At death’s door, she suddenly grew calm. Wasn’t it just grain they wanted? She had grain in abundance. But at this critical juncture, one thousand carts of grain could save the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers. To trade that for her single life—even she felt it wasn’t worth it.

Moreover, saving soldiers’ lives meant saving the lives of Great Qian’s common people. This wasn’t merely about one thousand carts of grain.

She lowered her eyes in silence, her mind racing.

            

“Are you Qiang people unable to count? Who would trade one thousand carts of grain for one woman?” Ye Huaiqing twitched the corner of his mouth and said coldly. But his fingers on the sword hilt were starting to disobey him.

This place was only four or five days’ journey from Xixing Pass. Had the letter he’d sent out reached Ah Tang? He hated himself for not telling him that Jiang Chenyu was in the carriage, for wanting to give him a surprise instead. Well, this surprise had turned into a fright.

“Then tell me—how much can you give?” The one thousand carts was only Yeli’s probing. They couldn’t stay here long; a quick resolution was in their best interest.

            

“Two hundred carts. Not a cart more.” Ye Huaiqing was agonizing. The person must be saved, but the grain couldn’t be given away easily either.

“Five hundred carts. Non-negotiable.” Catching the brief struggle on Ye Huaiqing’s face, Yeli suddenly grew suspicious of Jiang Chenyu’s identity. He stated five hundred with brazen confidence.

In truth, Ye Huaiqing had given himself away the moment he opened his mouth. If she were truly a worthless woman, she wouldn’t be worth even one cart—they’d have shot her on the spot. A woman whose mouth was worth two hundred carts had to be someone extraordinary.

            

“Are you telling a joke?” The veins on Ye Huaiqing’s forehead stood out faintly, his low voice laced with fury.

“Whether she’s worth it or not, I’ll test and find out.” Yeli laughed wildly.

With that, he kicked Jiang Chenyu in the side. Though she wore thick winter clothes, she couldn’t withstand Yeli’s kick.

            

With a cry, she let the momentum carry her to the ground.

The pain in her waist came slowly—a dull, delayed ache that grew sharper and sharper. She bit down on the corner of her lip, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. Tears welled in her eyes against her will—she hadn’t meant to cry. She truly hadn’t.

Freed from the enemy’s grip, she swiftly pulled a hairpin and clutched it in her hand. She had just tucked the hairpin into her sleeve when she was hauled up again.

            

“I’ll give it to you, I’ll give it to you! Yeli, hitting a woman—you’re a disgrace to the Qiang Tribe!” He truly couldn’t hold out anymore. Truth be told, if she were his own woman, he might have gritted his teeth and held on a while longer. But this was Ah Tang’s person. He didn’t dare gamble anymore.

He thought to himself: How could Ah Tang be so calm? Didn’t he feel something wrong somewhere? At this moment, he hoped Heaven would deliver the message for him.

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Shen Hetang had been worrying about the grain situation. After receiving the letter, she’d been counting the days. The road near Xixing Pass was rough going, and military rations allowed no room for carelessness. She needed to go out and meet the grain convoy.

            

Leading three thousand troops, she’d traveled four days, with a vanguard squad scouting the road ahead. But then she saw the lead scouts running back in a panic.

“What’s happened? Is there trouble ahead?” Seeing the scouts sprinting back, Shen Hetang asked sternly.

“General, it’s bad! Our grain convoy was ambushed by the Qiang Tribe. They’re fighting right now at Tianlian Mountain.”

            

“How dare they cross into Great Qian territory to steal grain. I doubt they have the lives to eat what they’ve taken.” The Qiang were a small tribe; their raids usually numbered only a few thousand. Shen Hetang knew the size of Ye Huaiqing’s force, so she merely quickened her pace without excessive urgency. With her blocking the rear, these barbarians had nowhere to run.

“We had enough men against the enemy, but they captured a beautiful woman as a hostage. General Ye is fighting with his hands tied. It’s difficult.”

“What? He brought a woman?” Her first thought was that the tigress³ from Hongying Stockade would surely eat Ye Huaiqing alive. But then a knot formed in her chest—a vague sense that something was wrong.

            

“I heard that the woman was brought for you, General.” The scout was still gasping for breath, words coming out one at a time.

“For me?” A possibility she could hardly bear flashed through her mind.

She immediately stripped off her heavy fur garments, wearing only a lined cotton robe, grabbed a long spear, and sprinted toward Tianlian Mountain. Each leap covered several meters, barely leaving footprints on the snow-white ground.

            

In a few breaths, she vanished before the assembled soldiers.

Seeing their General abandon them and run, the soldiers scrambled to give chase.

At Tianlian Mountain, on the mountain road where the two forces clashed.

            

“Keep dreaming. Leave your head right here.”

As Ye Huaiqing’s words fell, a voice carrying tremendous momentum approached from afar.

Yeli heard the sound, his heart clenching as he whipped his head around.

            

He saw a handsome young man in a black inner robe, grasping a long spear in one hand, leaping straight down from the rear mountain. The spearhead gleamed with cold light, aimed directly at the space between his eyebrows, tearing through the air like a violent storm, carrying such force that in the next second it would pierce through his skull.

In that moment, Yeli was afraid. He couldn’t seem to dodge. His eyes could see nothing but the terrifying spearhead. His mind went blank.

Jiang Chenyu lay on the ground. Hearing that voice, she slowly raised her upper body and turned to look at her.

            

The amber-gold afterglow fell like gold dust across half her face, dyeing everything behind her in shades of gold. Those striking, handsome features bore the shadow of an immortal descended from heaven—like the divine statues she’d seen as a child, solemn and magnificent.

In that moment, she knew she had nothing left to fear.

Yeli didn’t lose his head. Instead, the man who’d grabbed Jiang Chenyu blocked the spear for him, the shaft punching straight through his chest and out his back.

            

Seeing that Shen Hetang had broken open the situation, Ye Huaiqing immediately led his soldiers back into battle against the enemy. Without a hostage to protect, there was no need for restraint.

Yeli was entangled by Ye Huaiqing, and the tall, thin man lay critically wounded, gasping his last breaths. The soldiers fought ever more bravely, already holding the upper hand.

Shen Hetang kicked away the man impaled on her spear and hurriedly bent down, lifting Jiang Chenyu up with both hands.

            

“Are you hurt anywhere? Hmm?” She looked anxiously at the pale-faced Jiang Chenyu, worry saturating every line of her brow and eyes.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just got kicked.” She reached up and gently stroked Ah Tang’s sun-darkened cheek.

“The wind and sand at the Border really are harsh. You’ve gotten a lot darker.” Her eyes shone bright, a faint smile on her lips as she spoke.

            

“Just a bit of a tan, nothing serious.” Seeing her still spirited enough to observe her complexion, it probably wasn’t anything major.

She carried Jiang Chenyu back into the carriage, leaving Cuiwan to continue guarding her. She still had matters to resolve.

The Qiang, seeing the tide turn, tried to slip away—only to collide head-on with Shen Hetang’s elite troops. Caught in a pincer, they were rounded up to a man.

            

She didn’t take their lives, merely had them all bound, waiting for their tribe to ransom them with three thousand head of cattle and sheep—one person for one cow or sheep. If they couldn’t pay, they could starve to death—after all, they didn’t have much grain themselves either.

Shen Hetang held Jiang Chenyu in the carriage. Jiang Ning tactfully rode with the brothers in the rear, and Cuiwan, her injuries neither light nor severe, went to another carriage.

Jiang Chenyu pressed close against her, still shaken. Nearly a year of yearning had finally found solid ground.

            

Her liquid-bright eyes stayed fixed on Shen Hetang’s face, as if she needed to look her fill before she could look away.

“Does it hurt?” Her fingers barely dared to touch the injured spot. She lifted the clothing—the tender, slender waist was flushed red across an area about the size of two palms. It would probably turn purple by tomorrow. That damned barbarian. When they reached their destination, she would personally deal with him.

“It hurts!” Jiang Chenyu rested her cheek against her collarbone, answering with a pout.

            

“I wonder if the military physician has medicinal liquor. This injury needs to be massaged out quickly, or it’ll be more trouble.” She tucked the blanket around her, wrapping her arms around her, both of them sitting together in the bedding as if grown together, unwilling to part for even a moment.

Jiang Chenyu breathed in the crisp pine fragrance on her body and felt deeply at peace. It seemed that staying out here so long had infused her with the scent of wind and snow.

“I brought medicinal liquor. It’s in that bundle.” Jiang Chenyu pointed at the large bundle behind her. She hadn’t known how long this trip would last, so she’d brought everything they might need.

            

After Shen Hetang found the medicinal liquor, they swapped positions, with her shielding the outside.

By now the sun had set. Outside, the sky was dark and heavy, and inside the carriage it was pitch black. Ye Huaiqing led six thousand soldiers, escorting the captured enemy at the rear of the column.

The soldiers ahead lit torches and found a sheltered spot to make camp. The rear column gradually ground to a halt. Groups of twenty or thirty gathered branches, built fires, and took turns on watch.

            

Those who didn’t need to keep watch set up tents by the fire, huddled together in groups of ten or so with cotton blankets—enough to get through the night.

The camp cooks set up their pots, and Ye Huaiqing dispatched the military physician to treat the wounded. Tonight’s meal required extra dough drop soup—one steaming bowl per man to survive the frigid night.

Once the carriage stopped moving, Shen Hetang lit the oil lamp, loosened her clothing, and had her lie in the bedding wearing only her undergarment. The injured area was on her side waist, about the size of two palms.

            

“It’ll hurt a little in a moment. Bear with it—I’ll be as gentle as I can!”

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