Chapter Two: Selling the Art of War

Chu Bing stepped forward, waving the military treatise in her hand at the man and smiling as she asked, “You’re interested in this book of tactics? I have it right here. Would you care to buy it?”

The man stared at her in confusion. Seeing her brandishing something, he mistook it for a weapon and immediately barked, “Vile wretch, how dare you attack someone in broad daylight! Surrender at once!”

“What?”

“Hmph, so you’re a foreigner as well. All the more reason I can’t let you go!”

Chu Bing’s expression darkened; she nearly collapsed then and there. The man threw aside his wine bottle and raised his hand to strike, but his muddled senses betrayed him, and after just a few steps, he lost his balance and toppled over.

“Hey, hey, you…”

Unfortunately, Chu Bing had no time to dodge and was knocked to the ground, the man’s heavy body pressing down upon her, nearly crushing her beneath his weight.

“Hey, get up! Hey!” She shouted, but no matter how loudly she called, the man remained motionless. Turning her head, she realized he had fallen into a drunken slumber.

“Unbelievable!” Chu Bing rolled her eyes in exasperation. She’d come to sell something, only to be mistaken for a thief?

She seriously wondered if the man’s mind held anything besides thoughts of battle and bloodshed.

As Chu Bing pondered how to extricate herself from beneath him, an angry shout rang out beside her: “You shameless woman, how dare you embrace a man in public! Have you no sense of propriety?”

At the same moment, the weight crushing her disappeared.

Chu Bing looked up to see the former husband of her body’s original owner—the magistrate of Yong’an County.

His face was livid, his beard trembling with fury. “You little harlot, you’d be better off dead! Behaving so indecently under broad daylight—what a disgrace! A disgrace to all decency!”

Chu Bing responded with a cold sneer, “Magistrate, have you forgotten? You divorced me long ago. What business is it of yours if I keep company with other men?”

“You!” The magistrate was furious, raising his hand to strike, but halted halfway. Straightening his posture, he spoke with measured formality, “Chu Bing, the criminal, you’d best hand over those five hundred taels of ill-gotten silver, or else…”

The magistrate narrowed his eyes, glancing at the man he’d just pulled off Chu Bing, then threatened, “I’ll have both of you drowned in the pig basket for corrupting public morals!”

Five hundred taels? How did he know the original owner still had that sum?

Chu Bing’s gaze drifted to Yun Xin behind the magistrate, and suddenly she understood everything. No wonder she’d been spared earlier—it was merely a change in tactics. If the magistrate truly obtained those five hundred taels, Yun Xin would surely be promoted to his principal wife for her contribution. She’d profit no matter the outcome!

Meanwhile, Yun Xin was inwardly lamenting: This fool, how could he ever become a provincial governor? We agreed to wait until the woman secretly retrieved the money, but now, just seeing her embrace another man, you erupt in jealousy and lose all composure. If she were willing to hand over the silver, there’d be no need for you!

“East Forest Slope.”

To their surprise, Chu Bing actually spoke up. “There’s a small pit there. I recently dug up the soil, so the marks are quite obvious.”

The magistrate and Yun Xin exchanged glances, incredulous yet half-convinced by her precise description. Finally, the magistrate said coldly, “You’d better be telling the truth, or else… hmph!”

With that warning, he turned and hurried away.

Yun Xin, after a few steps, turned back and looked down at Chu Bing. “Remember, when you see me in the future, you must kneel and address me as Magistrate’s Lady.” She paused, then broke into a smile. “Oh, but perhaps you won’t need to—because soon, you’ll have no right to meet me at all.”

Watching them depart, Chu Bing stood up with a cold, grim expression.

This so-called magistrate of Yong’an may seem ineffectual, but he was, after all, the ruler of the county. As long as she remained within its borders, she’d have to live under his jurisdiction. Moreover, the stolen money was illicit; she could never use it freely. Perhaps it was best to return it to its rightful owner.

Alas, she’d have to rely on her own hard work.

Chu Bing sighed, her gaze falling on the man still unconscious nearby. She glanced at the “Treatise of Master Jiang” she’d tossed aside. Biting her lip, she thought to herself: There’s no other way for now; this is the only option.

“Ah!” A ladle of cold water splashed onto Li Haoran’s face, jolting him awake and sobering him somewhat.

Chu Bing tossed the ladle aside and squatted in front of him. “Awake?”

Seeing a refined young woman approach, Li Haoran was bewildered, with no memory of what had just transpired. He nodded blankly.

“This.” Chu Bing wasted no words, pointing at the treatise. “Are you buying or not?”

“Treatise of Master Jiang.”

Li Haoran’s eyes lit up at the name inscribed on the ancient tome. He reached out to take it, but hesitated and withdrew his hand.

“What is it?” Chu Bing asked, unable to resist his indecision.

“I have no money,” Li Haoran admitted candidly. In these times, such a military classic would cost several hundred taels, but he could only muster a few dozen.

Chu Bing sized him up carefully—clad in fine silk, he hardly looked impoverished. She proposed, “I can lend you the book for now. If you find it worthwhile, pay a small sum up front and write me an IOU for the remainder.”

Li Haoran was overjoyed and rose to bow respectfully. “Thank you, miss. Oh, by the way, my name is Li Haoran. May I ask yours?”

Her name? They were mere strangers crossing paths—was it necessary?

Still, since he’d asked, she couldn’t refuse. Recalling how famous women in ancient dramas often had ‘Ji’ as their courtesy name, she decided: She was surnamed Chu, so she’d call herself Chu Ji.

“Chu Ji?”

“Is there a problem?”

“Uh, not really.” Li Haoran had never heard such a name, but, constrained by propriety, he said no more.

Once Chu Bing handed him the treatise, he wasted no time and immersed himself in its pages.

From the first volume, Li Haoran was utterly captivated, his horizons expanded. He marveled at how thorough and lucid the analysis was; compared to it, other military texts were hardly worth mentioning.

“What a true bookworm,” Chu Bing muttered, shaking her head. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled audibly. She frowned in pity—when would this fellow finish reading?

After a while, Li Haoran was still lost in the book’s “House of Gold” and “Jade Beauty,” when a slender, fair hand suddenly reached for his sturdy waist.