Martial Arts

I was the Noble Consort.

An assassin struck at a palace banquet, and the Empress took a sword for me.

The Emperor was stunned.

“I’m right here!

Why are you saving her?”

The Empress collapsed into my arms, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth.

“Her crying is unbearable.

I don’t want to deal with her nonsense.”

But I’d trained in martial arts since I was little.

I could look after myself.

The crying was just to win favor.

Well, this was a mess…

Maybe I should ask Dad’s five hundred thousand soldiers what to do?

The prince’s heir acquired a famous sword.

A fine sword deserved a beautiful woman.

My looks earned me the position of his sword-bearing maid.

Later, he took me to Taicang for the Sword Trials.

Someone saw me and remarked, “Baseborn to the bone.”

Everyone roared with laughter.

Only years later did they understand.

What the man had actually said was, “Blade-born to the bone.”

I had been married to Shen Shi’an for eight years, but he still cherished the woman he had never forgotten.

He had grown tired of me, sick of me, finding me dull and vulgar.

When I cooked porridge or simmered soup, I was a woman with no ambition, forever fussing over a stove.

When his beloved washed her hands and made a bowl of soup, she was gentle, considerate, and understanding.

Later, after I had written our divorce agreement, Shen Shi’an traveled all the way to Jiangling to ask me for a bowl of jujube porridge.

I smiled and told him, “We don’t grow jujubes in Jiangling.

I haven’t made it in years.

I’ve quite forgotten how.”

At fourteen, Ruan Qingzhu sells herself into the wealthy Jiang household for a few good meals, fully intending to run away. Her extraordinary martial arts soon make her the senior maid and bodyguard of the Jiang family’s spirited eldest young lady, Wanying. When an imperial marriage decree and a northern war threaten Wanying’s future with General Li, Qingzhu must choose between the freedom she once prized and the family she has found.

In my previous life, before my elder sister entered the palace to become empress, she bent her head to tell me, “Ah Ting, when I’m gone, you must take care of yourself.”

I promised her through my tears.

Five years later, the empress fell out of favor.

Her enemies had her raped, and that night she hanged herself.

The emperor decreed that the deposed empress of the Meng family was without virtue.

No one in the capital was permitted to wear mourning white.

I went to beg forgiveness on behalf of the Meng family.

Struck by my beauty, His Majesty took me into the palace, where I became the most favored woman in his harem.

The day I dragged him into the flames to die with me, he closed his hands around my throat in a rage.

“I have treated your family well!

For your sake, I even overlooked that defiled, deposed empress!”

I let the fire climb over me as though I could feel nothing.

“I didn’t.”

When I woke again, it was the day my sister entered the palace.

She stroked my head, then turned toward the palace that devoured people.

I stripped off my fine clothes and jewelry, then turned toward the bloodshed of an army camp.

Let us see whether that imperial bastard would still dare call her “deposed empress” when I surrounded his palace with my army.

I had fallen for a shadow guard.

My mother was born into nobility, yet she threatened to die if she couldn’t marry my scoundrel of a father.

When I was three, my father broke the law and was thrown into prison.

My mother, holding my infant sister in her arms, climbed into the carriage back to the capital without so much as a glance behind her.

She left me alone in the howling wind and snow.

Eighteen years later, when we met again, my sister had already become the emperor’s favored consort.

Her contemptuous gaze was like a snowflake, landing coldly on my hands. “With all those calluses, can you even call those a woman’s hands?”

My sister died, leaving behind two young children.

Mother begged me to marry her widower.

I got straight to the point.

“Your grandson is precious.

If he misbehaves, may I smack him?”

Mother nodded repeatedly.

“Of course.”

“Your granddaughter is delicate.

If she does something wrong, may I scold her?”

“No problem.”

“And my brother-in-law?

I’ve never liked him.

May I beat him up?”

Mother wiped the sweat from her brow.

“You’ll have to ask your mother-in-law about that.

I didn’t give birth to him, after all…”