A Willing Mistake, My Lady – Chapter 98
by Little PandaBattle Before the Formation
Gone Again
One year later.
A chubby little hand tugged at a string of locust blossoms, popping them off one by one. Big eyes glanced warily left and right, and seeing no one paying attention, the little hand swiftly stuffed the flower buds into a mouth, cheeks puffing as it chewed up and down.
“Anhe, you’re stealing locust blossoms again?” Chuntao caught her chubby little hand still tucked behind her back.
“No I’m not, Auntie Tao.” Standing rock-steady on a little stool, the tiny person spoke with crystal clarity, her tone rising, her expression seamlessly natural—if Chuntao didn’t know her so well, she’d have doubted her own eyes.
“You won’t admit it? I’m going to tell Madam!” Chuntao looked at the dessert-like little miss, her heart melting—provided she wasn’t causing trouble.
“Don’t, Auntie! You eat some too.”
“I don’t want any. They’re bitter.”
“These are really sweet. Try one.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re tricking me again, you little rascal.” Who could tell her how a child not yet three could have so many tricks up her sleeve? Watching the little one put on such an earnest face while lying to her, she felt so tired.
She couldn’t handle this child anymore. Someone come save her—she was about to fall apart.
This past year, the young miss had been very busy, frequently going out to do business with Jiang Ning. Actually, the young miss didn’t need to be this busy—she didn’t know if it had something to do with the young master always being away from home.
Fortunately, because of Anhe, she didn’t go too far away, otherwise Chuntao didn’t know how long it would be between visits from the young miss.
Shopkeeper Lin had also entered the Shanggong Bureau1, currently doing fairly light clerical and record-keeping work—though she seemed to find everything she did rather effortless. Occasionally she still came looking for Chuntao, wanting to take her along, but with the young miss so busy right now, Chuntao didn’t want to leave.
Her relationship with Shopkeeper Lin had always been ambiguous. Since Shopkeeper Lin had gone to work in the palace, their contact had decreased significantly, so things were in a state where she could advance or retreat as she chose.
However, Shopkeeper Lin had promised to work her way up one more rank, which would let her leave the palace and have a private residence, and then they could live together. Chuntao was somewhat tempted.
“Anhe, shall we go see your mother?” The young miss had already arrived at the shop that morning—she needed to offload this hot potato.
“Mother’s back? Really?” The little one dropped her string of locust blossoms and sprinted toward Chuntao, slamming into her embrace like a little bomb.
Chuntao hastily reached out to catch her. Good thing she’d eaten a lot today, or she wouldn’t have been able to withstand the little miss’s cannonball style of impact.
“Auntie will take you to find her right now. Let’s go!” She scooped her up quickly, boarded a carriage, and set off for the shop.
Jiang Chenyu had just returned to the capital, going to the shop first. The manor had been notified, but she hadn’t headed back yet.
Inside the bustling first floor, Jiang Chenyu wore a low-key dark-blue long robe with subtle patterns, layered with a white embroidered bijia2. Her hair was neatly coiled, shorn of the usual clutter of hair pendants and ornaments—just a single jadeite orchid hairpin and a matching pair of jadeite earrings, elegant and crisp, not the least bit perfunctory.
She was at the age when her beauty was at its peak, yet from managing Shen Manor and conducting business outside, her gaze had grown sharp, exuding an aura that kept strangers at a distance. Occasionally someone bold enough to covet the general’s wife’s beauty would end up with nothing pleasant.
With Ah Tang not by her side, she’d shelved her coquettish, playful nature. In business she’d grown ever more decisive, leveraging her father’s connections and Princess Shunhe’s backdoor influence to recoup all the silver she’d donated within a year—and then some.
The border was uneasy these days. Besides their regular tea supply, they’d also been buying and selling other goods. Actually, Jiang Chenyu wasn’t all that busy—she simply couldn’t bear sitting in the courtyard every day waiting for dispatches from the front, her heart anxious, so she found things to do to keep her thoughts from running wild.
This year Ah Tang had only sent three or four letters. Fortunately, each letter included thorough reassurance and sweet words, enough to sustain her for another three or four months.
Recently, good news kept coming. Though the enemy’s wolfish ambition kept them attacking the border gates, Great Qian’s resources ran deep. Under General Shen’s leadership, veteran and young commanders alike held the enemy firmly in check. Even with the occasional two or three lost battles, the overall upper hand remained unaffected.
They’d been fighting for a full year—two major battles and a dozen or so minor ones. The enemy had lost more than half their men, yet still howled like wolves, refusing to let Great Qian go.
Their own casualties were a small portion as well. Shen Hetang generally wouldn’t recklessly clash head-on with the enemy. Even with sufficient troops, she treasured every soldier’s life, resorting to close combat only as a last resort—so the Army Supervisor criticized her quite a bit.
He said she was dragging out the campaign, wasting rations and military supplies—as if soldiers didn’t need to eat if they weren’t fighting.
But Xixing Pass remained firmly in Shen Hetang’s hands. What the Army Supervisor said was at most an annoyance, carrying no real deterrent force.
Fortunately, the enemy had been dragged out too long and showed signs of retreat, yet still clamored for a duel with their army’s commander. If they lost, they’d concede and retreat to their homeland, never to invade Great Qian again.
Shen Hetang didn’t understand why they were so determined to duel her when they had no chance of winning. Even if they beat her, it wouldn’t help their losing situation.
As warmongers trying to swallow another nation’s territory, they should tuck their tails and roll back home.
She’d intended to ignore their clamoring, but that shit-stirrer of an Army Supervisor accepted the enemy’s challenge letter and spread the news that she’d agreed.
In a fit of rage, she tied up this pig teammate3, but with the challenge accepted, she had no choice but to go meet them!
Before the empty city gates, mountain wind wailed and howled. The sky was gray, as if before a downpour.
Liao State’s 10,000-odd soldiers, already a spent force, slowly formed a semicircle several hundred meters from the city gates, inching closer.
Sometimes, Shen Hetang couldn’t help but admire this wolf-like tenacity of the enemy—this must be what they meant by different lands breeding different people.
But regardless of their nature, once they stood on the opposite side of her, it was kill or be killed.
Marching out with her were 8,000 elite soldiers. If winning this duel could spare them a final slaughter, it would be worth it.
The Liao commander clamoring for the duel, Yelu Ta, was a replacement main general brought in half a year ago. A fierce warrior, he’d taken over the previous general’s remaining troops.
But that young man opposite him had kept hiding and refusing a direct confrontation, using unconventional tactics to wipe out half their forces before finally agreeing to fight face-to-face.
Yelu Ta had kept mocking General Shen for not daring to let his soldiers fight head-on, but the young man across from him simply wouldn’t take the bait, always attacking when least expected.
This had left Yelu Ta seething, hating General Shen to the bone.
Now he’d finally forced her out for a one-on-one showdown. He was going to snap that slender neck of hers.
He thought the former Liao general killed by General Shen was simply unlucky. He didn’t believe that young general, who weighed less than half of him, had such ability. She’d only gotten her position through her old man’s connections, hadn’t she?
Anyway, they’d lost the war and had no face to just go back. Today, either he died, or he brought her head back with him.
Yelu Ta stared fiercely toward the city gates at the Great Qian commander.
Though the enemy’s banners were tattered, their war drums silent, men and horses exhausted, every one of them had a fierce, unyielding glint in their eyes, and greed for Great Qian’s fertile lands.
The handsome general in red robes and silver armor, wielding the Xuan-Iron Sword, rode out alone on a single horse. Without warning, she charged toward Yelu Ta. The black horse, full of swagger, galloped a lap before the enemy at top speed, then bolted with full force to the center of the open ground, leaving behind clouds of dust two meters high and the enemy eating her dust.
The black horse stopped at the center of the open ground, excitedly rearing up on its front hooves, neighing, looking thoroughly arrogant.
In Shen Hetang’s refined, noble phoenix eyes, cold light flashed like solid hidden weapons, shooting straight at Yelu Ta.
“Since General Yelu wants a match, let’s begin.” She tilted the corner of her mouth, but there was no smile in her eyes.
“On the battlefield, a match means life or death. When it comes to the real thing, you can’t win with trickery.” Yelu Ta remained arrogant, and the remnant soldiers behind him laughed loudly.
“We in Great Qian simply don’t use our soldiers like beasts of burden—that’s something you barbarians wouldn’t understand.” Looking at the enemy’s spent forces, Shen Hetang dismissed them with disdain.
Outside the city were only 8,000 elite soldiers, but behind the opened gates stood a full army of 30,000 ready and waiting. So the soldiers outside fought with high morale, their battle cries shaking heaven and earth, each one worth two of the enemy.
“Cut the talk. Don’t beg for mercy later.” Yelu Ta, his pride stung by her words, charged straight at Shen Hetang on his horse, a pair of 200-jin4 hammers held high and low in fighting stance.
Zhao Chenlan atop the city gate watched the weight that could pulverize bone with a single strike, his brow twitching slightly. Ah Tang’s Xuan-Iron Sword didn’t seem to have any advantage against those massive things.
As everyone watched tensely, the two in the open ground began to fight. Yelu Ta’s twin hammers were heavy weapons—if swung continuously without connecting, they’d exhaust him quickly. Shen Hetang kept darting up and down to dodge, watching the opponent’s mouth twist with rage, not caring. Who would fight head-on when they could outsmart?
Yelu Ta, seeing her slipperier than an eel, glared and fixed his target on the black horse beneath Shen Hetang. The person could dodge, but could the horse?
He bent down, raised his hammer, and swung at the horse’s legs. Shen Hetang, seeing him this shameless, leaped directly and stepped onto Yelu Ta’s wrist that held the hammer.
Yelu Ta, seeing the person right before him, gave a sinister grin and swung the other hammer over. But this brat planted both feet directly onto the hammer—somehow controlling her balance, standing firmly on top of it. If Yelu Ta wanted to escape this predicament, he’d have to drop both hammers.
“You really think your father is all show?” Shen Hetang, seeing him straining with both hands but unable to shake her off, got in the mood to toy with him. After this battle, she’d probably get to rest a while, and then she could go home to see her wife. The thought sped up her movements.
Yelu Ta sat on his horse, both hands raised with the hammers, Shen Hetang standing on them, controlling the direction of his arms. The two spun two or three laps on horseback.
Seeing her raise her sword, thrusting like a silver snake straight toward his chest, Yelu hastily dropped both hammers and used the iron armor on his arms to block. The metallic collision was piercingly sharp, even sparking.
Shen Hetang gave up on playing around with him. Her sword strikes turned sharp and fast, one after another. But Yelu Ta was no slouch either—his heavy iron armor shocked her grip numb with every impact.
Suddenly Yelu Ta clamped both arms around Shen Hetang’s Xuan-Iron Sword. Straining with all his might, his face turning red, he forcibly snapped the tough, iron-hard blade.
“Hahaha, now this is a real match! Show me your best trick!” Both disarmed, Yelu Ta’s confidence soared, certain Shen Hetang was doomed.
“Aaaah!!” After saying that, he roared maniacally, both hands grabbing the belt of Shen Hetang’s armor, lifting her up and spinning her around violently.
Once Shen Hetang’s feet left the ground and Yelu Ta began swinging her, she knew this brute was about to throw her. She hastily reached toward her lower back.
A fist-sized iron ball connected to a three- or four-meter fine iron chain swiftly wrapped around Yelu Ta’s neck. The moment she was thrown, she grabbed the other end of the chain and flew back.
Seeing Yelu Ta clawing at the chain around his neck, she raised her fist and struck his face with all her strength, again and again. In the chaos, Yelu Ta’s helmet was knocked clean off by Shen Hetang’s blows.
Yelu Ta was busy trying to tear off the chain, letting Shen Hetang pummel him black and blue. In a frenzy, he landed a fist on Shen Hetang’s chest. Even with armor protecting her, her insides felt like they’d been shattered, burning with pain. But she couldn’t afford to care about that.
She yanked back the chain from around his neck. Then suddenly she felt dizzy and faint, her limbs losing strength, her heart pounding like a drum.
She strained to look at the enemy several meters away, her long lashes fluttering, her breathing unsteady. She didn’t know what was happening to her—only that a hot, metallic-tasting surge rose in her chest, and she forced herself to swallow it back down. The Yelu Ta across from her was barely clinging to life too.
Had someone poisoned her? She acutely sensed she wouldn’t last much longer.
“Aaaah!!” Yelu Ta, while she was dazed, picked up a hammer from the ground and charged at Shen Hetang with it raised.
Shen Hetang’s eyes seemed to burn with flame. She had to finish Yelu off quickly, or there’d be no chance left. Just before Yelu Ta’s hammer fell, she moved like the wind to get behind him, swinging the fist-sized iron ball and smashing it viciously into the back of his unprotected head.
Thud, thud, thud, thud. Gripping the other end of the chain, she gave him no chance to catch his breath—until blood splattered, flesh and bone became a blur, and the enormous Yelu Ta collapsed and didn’t rise again. Only then did clarity return to her blood-red eyes.
Behind her, the Liao soldiers, seeing their commander fall, swarmed forward. How could the Great Qian elite soldiers let them through? The two sides instantly clashed in chaotic combat.
Shen Hetang, standing in the middle, hadn’t a trace of strength left in her body. Blood flowed uncontrollably from the corner of her mouth, looking extraordinarily vivid and bewitching on her handsome face.
She raised the back of her hand and wiped her lips. The blood was vivid red, looking like a ball of fire. Then, without any feeling, she collapsed into the crowd and was instantly swallowed up.
The Great Qian soldiers were at peak morale, each one so fired up they seemed to be running on pure adrenaline. For a moment, no one noticed Shen Hetang’s position.
Zhao Chenlan, ignoring the Army Supervisor’s attempts to stop him, leaped straight down from the city gate to search for Shen Hetang.
But—there was no trace of her anywhere.
Footnotes
- The imperial palace agency managing women's official duties and palace administrative services.
- A traditional Chinese sleeveless vest or jacket worn over a long robe.
- Modern Chinese internet slang for a foolish or incompetent ally who inadvertently causes trouble for their own side.
- A Chinese unit of weight equivalent to approximately 500 grams.
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