Chapter 8
That single battle made me famous.
Even the emperor heard about it. Bitterly regretting that he hadn’t been there, he was consulting the state preceptor about turning back time.
The seven young gentlemen refused to accept defeat. They went home, trained hard, and vowed to wipe away their humiliation.
Unfortunately, they fought and lost, then lost and fought again.
They encouraged each other. “Don’t be afraid! She’s the victor. Victory breeds arrogance, and arrogant soldiers are doomed to lose. We’re the defeated. Defeat breeds sorrow, and sorrowing soldiers are bound to win. We have the advantage! We have the advantage!”
Then I stepped out, and they scattered like cockroaches.
Afterward, they salvaged each other’s dignity. “They say the happy person gives way. We gave way, which proves we’re happy!”
Whenever a challenge match was held, the street was packed.
All happy people.
The chief minister shouted, “No putting one down to praise another! My son stands eight chi tall and has a splendid physique. He may not equal Little Fengxian, but surely you can’t put him in the same class as that Chu boy who only bullies his own family!”
The father of the household bully, the minister of revenue, exploded. “Who are you calling a household bully? My exceptional boy can last an incense stick against Little Fengxian. Can your reckless fool?”
“An incense stick, my arse! Did you borrow that time on credit?”
“I still favor the grand tutor’s little weasel. He farts the moment Little Fengxian approaches. The stench! Even she can’t withstand it!”
“Where’s General Ye’s Diaochan? If he’s not here, I’ll have my son try the beauty trap!”
“He hasn’t got half of Diaochan‘s charms!”
Diaochan himself, Ye Cangfeng, sat upstairs holding a Daoist scripture, murmuring it in the manner of a man entirely at peace with the world.
Neither my opponents bobbing up and down, near and far, nor the crowd’s discussions could stir him for even a moment.
After that battle, he’d decided to embrace Daoism: peace, inaction, freedom from conflict.
All so that I might commit fewer acts of slaughter.
In the ring, I acknowledged no ties of kinship.
I hit the ugly ones, and I hit the pretty ones just the same.
Honestly, who in the entire capital could be prettier than my brother?
In despair, everyone said, “Is there anyone she wouldn’t dare hit? The Lord of Heaven himself would get two slaps before she let him leave.”
The next moment, someone shouted,
“The Lord of Heaven is here!”
Everyone had been laughing as they turned to see who’d acquired that nickname.
Then they saw His Imperial Majesty.
No room for mockery. This really was the Lord of Heaven.
The emperor asked in astonishment, “Such valor! Whose daughter is this?”
“Your Majesty,” the general said proudly, “she is my adopted daughter, Wu Zheng.”
“Why not join the army and serve your country?”
Diaochan—no, Ye Cangfeng—jerked his head up.
And heard me reply delightedly, “Yes! Yes, please!”