Chapter Seventy-Four: Unable to Bear Seeing the People Driven from Their Homes

At dawn, Wei Linglan and the Daughters’ Militia set out before the others. After bidding farewell to Miao Xiaoyu, Sun Xiuying, and the six little ones one by one, the valiant Lady of Xiangcheng mounted her tall steed. Before leaving, she cast a half-smiling, half-mocking glance at Zhao Hengyi, who had already resigned himself to his fate.

But it was not only Wei Linglan; the other women of the militia also looked at Zhao Hengyi with strange expressions, making him feel as if he had become a monkey on display at a zoo.

Once everyone had packed up, they continued on their way to Jiangling City. The caravan that had shared the mountain cave with them the previous night lagged behind, dawdling along the road.

The two stewards of the merchant caravan had given up on inquiring about the strong liquor. That family was simply too odd. Whether they had gained the County Lady’s favor or had unwittingly offended her, ordinary merchants like themselves had best keep their distance.

Inside the carriage, the six little ones chattered excitedly about the stories they had heard from Wei Linglan. By chance, they had encountered the Lady of Xiangcheng, who was currently the talk of Jiangling City. Rumors abounded of rampant banditry along the official roads—barely ten miles out, and one would run into several groups of highwaymen.

Wei Linglan and her militia, upon hearing these tales, had not even taken the time to investigate before charging out of the city to eradicate the bandits—only to discover that these so-called highwaymen were all starving peasants armed with nothing but branches and wooden clubs!

After a long day on the road, everywhere they went it was the same. The entire company returned exhausted and in low spirits.

Zhao Hengyi did not take the opportunity to mock Wei Linglan; instead, he found her and her Daughters’ Militia truly admirable—far superior to the cowering government troops and constables holed up in Jiangling.

“Master Zhao, don’t underestimate the Daughters’ Militia,” Xing Xiaorong interjected, knowing far more than the six little ones could be allowed to hear. “Though all those women are officially maids, they are excellent riders and archers. They’ve even helped the Lady of Xiangcheng take down real mountain bandits! Their skills are no less than regular border soldiers, perhaps even better—strictly disciplined and swift to obey commands!”

Xing Xiaorong’s knowledge was unsurprising—he had been deliberately cultivated by Song San, and was sharp when it came to intelligence. Moreover, Song Ying’an himself had once helped train the Daughters’ Militia!

“My brother helped train the Daughters’ Militia?” Zhao Hengyi was astonished. Had he known of this connection, he would have had Song Ying’an write a letter of introduction—the business with the County Lady would have gone much smoother!

“Not exactly a trainer,” Xing Xiaorong replied, somewhat evasively. “He was forced by the County Lady to write a training manual. In fact, there were several old military officers who were compelled in the same way!”

Given only her title, the Lady of Xiangcheng could never have forced so many officers to write training manuals for her militia, not even as the most beloved youngest daughter of the Duke of Lu. After all, even the lowest-ranking generals would hardly stoop to indulge a young girl’s whims!

No one at the time ever imagined that the Daughters’ Militia would actually shape up into a real fighting force under Wei Linglan’s training.

Some saw the situation as a shortcut to promotion, but those shameless enough for such a move lacked the skills Wei Linglan sought. In the end, the Lady of Xiangcheng lost her patience.

It was then that she revealed her other identity—the current Emperor’s aunt. Was that not enough?

The reigning Zhao Emperor’s mother was Wei Linglan’s cousin. Intermarriage among great houses was not unusual, but this cousin had been especially fond of Wei Linglan even before entering the palace. Even the marriage for the nephew of the Duke of Wen was arranged by the cousin, already an empress at the time.

Later, when tragedy befell Wei Linglan, the Empress Dowager blamed herself, often lamenting before others that she had failed her beloved Little Linglan.

Though the Empress Dowager had long since passed, Wei Linglan remained someone she had always cared for. Even the Emperor in the palace would have to show respect if Wei Linglan ever played the role of “aunt,” especially in a country like Great Yan, where officials revered filial piety.

This was how the Daughters’ Militia came by their various training manuals. Even Song Ying’an, newly ennobled for military achievement, had not escaped. In the end, it was a debt of gratitude, though Song Ying’an preferred not to speak of it.

This story was well known in Jiangling; hardly a secret, and safe to share.

Zhao Hengyi burst into laughter and applauded. This Lady of Xiangcheng was truly quick-witted; she must have been a mischievous child, which explained her instant rapport with the six little ones.

Others might see Wei Linglan’s actions as the spoiled stubbornness of a pampered noblewoman, using her status to browbeat hardened soldiers. But Zhao Hengyi saw it as a woman’s counterattack.

Widowed and living alone in Jiangling, of noble birth and her father’s favorite, with ample wealth at her disposal—marrying such a rich lady would be an absolute windfall!

Most importantly, within Jiangling, Wei Linglan had no family of her own. Surely, in the past, many had set their sights on her, coveting her status and fortune.

With the Daughters’ Militia, she not only deterred those with ill intentions but also resolved the problem of personal security—a true masterstroke!

In Great Yan, even a noblewoman had to use all her wits simply to live comfortably.

Zhao Hengyi felt as if he were seeing yet another side of this unconventional County Lady, and his admiration for her only deepened.

By noon, they reached Jiangling City. Towering city walls, bustling streets, surging crowds, the cries of street vendors, and rows of shops and taverns dazzled the travelers.

This, at last, was the ancient world as Zhao Hengyi had imagined it, not the ragged, emaciated peasants wielding sticks and blocking the roads.

But this bustling scene was visible to only a fortunate few. At the city gates, beggars were no longer allowed entry, and even those already inside had been driven out.

“Master, driving out the beggars was an order from the Jiangling prefecture,” said Xing Xiaorong, his tone full of scorn. “There are rumors that the prefect cannot bear to see the people destitute and homeless…”

Zhao Hengyi and his guards looked at each other in disbelief. Such peculiar logic! This prefect was truly one of a kind.

What a place, this prefectural city—always something new to learn!

Song San had already reserved an inn for them. It was tucked away in a quiet spot far from the city gates, yet not far from the bustling markets—a very clever location.

He had even booked an entire courtyard in advance, spacious and comfortable, more than enough for Zhao Hengyi and his party, who were quite pleased with the arrangement.

They had only just settled in when the innkeeper came in person to deliver a message: the matron from the Lady of Xiangcheng’s household had arrived.

“My Lady and Madam Zhao felt an instant kinship at first meeting, and after a long and lively conversation, have become as close as sisters. She has sent me to invite Madam Zhao, along with Miss Xiuying, Ruochang, Ruoyi, Xiaolan, Xiaojuan, Xiaoying, and Xiaofang, to stay at our residence for a few days.”

Wei Linglan even remembered the names of all six little ones—remarkable indeed!