Chapter 19: Beginning to Cultivate Loyal Followers

Gu Nanshu rewrote her plan. At present, she needed a group of personal guards who belonged solely to her—devoted warriors willing to sacrifice their lives for her, fearless of death, ready to protect her at all costs.

She knew cultivating such loyal fighters would be difficult. After all, the current guards assigned to her were all transferred from the Office of the Chief Secretary’s Gu family estate. Lu Heng had not reassigned anyone to her. Even if he had, those guards would not be truly loyal to her, which was unacceptable.

Moreover, the guards from the Office of the Chief Secretary only knew her as the eldest daughter of the Gu family; they were unaware that she was Feng Sanniang. If this secret were revealed, it would be extremely disadvantageous to her.

Therefore, from now on, she needed a cadre of people as blank slates, to follow her and be specially trained—nurtured to be devoted and loyal to her, to follow her unto death, never to betray her.

She had already requested this from Lu Heng before. She needed a group of talented and extraordinary individuals to enter the estate for this very purpose, and Lu Heng had agreed. Thus, she no longer hesitated.

As for how to find such talented individuals and how to make them willing to sacrifice themselves for her, she already had candidates in mind.

Zhong Muqiu, her childhood friend with whom she had grown up wearing split-crotch pants. After her mother died years ago, she was entrusted to Zhong Muqiu’s mother, Jiang Qiaozhen, for care.

Jiang Qiaozhen was a woman of deep sentiment and loyalty, raising her as if she were her own daughter, never stingy with good food or fine clothes.

Jiang Qiaozhen’s husband, Zhong Yizhi, had once been a chef at the renowned Martial Forest Manor. He was skilled at cooking, kind-hearted, honest, and a genuine commoner.

Jiang Qiaozhen did menial work at the Martial Forest Manor, washing clothes and cleaning for the martial disciples, earning a modest silver income each month. Life with her husband was modest but comfortable.

However, fate took a cruel turn. In the second year after she came to live with Jiang Qiaozhen, the Martial Forest Manor was suddenly attacked by assassins. Many lives were lost; Zhong Yizhi was killed on the spot, and Jiang Qiaozhen was blinded in the attack.

The manor’s master, Xie Anjing, to compensate the Zhong family, allowed Jiang Qiaozhen to remain at the manor to live out her days and took Zhong Muqiu as a disciple to train him in martial arts, making him a strong enforcer within the manor.

As for her, martial arts were never her forte. She preferred cooking, so she followed the kitchen maids, preparing meals for the martial disciples and the young masters and misses.

Life gradually improved, and she and Zhong Muqiu grew up together. Zhong Muqiu grew taller and more robust—big and strong. He was as kind and honest as his father, so she gave him the nickname “Simple Zhong.”

He was skilled in martial arts, agile, and strong as an ox.

Yet life never remains at a standstill. When Zhong Muqiu was fourteen, he was framed by malicious people who accused him of stealing the manor’s treasured Qian Kun pouch. The pouch was found in his room, and although the manor master punished him, the final blow was that he was expelled from the Martial Forest Manor.

Fortunately, Xie Anjing still showed some loyalty and arranged for the Zhong family to live in Fangyin Village.

Before leaving, Xie Anjing told Jiang Qiaozhen, “Zhong Muqiu is too upright and inflexible, a hard-headed boy who easily offends people. I know he didn’t steal the Qian Kun pouch. Perhaps leaving the Martial Forest Manor is a blessing for him. From now on, let him work at the Xie family dock carrying goods. The martial world is treacherous; he’s not suited for that path.”

Since then, the Zhong family severed all ties with the Martial Forest Manor and became ordinary villagers, seeking only a peaceful life.

By then, she had grown into a young woman. Having learned some culinary skills from the kitchen maids at the manor, including how to polish and make tofu, she began selling it as a means to earn a living.

The following year, she met Jiang Mubai, who was traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations.

It was raining heavily that day. Without an umbrella, she pushed a cart of tofu homeward when Jiang Mubai suddenly appeared and held an umbrella over her.

Memories flooded back as Gu Nanshu sat on the carriage heading to Fangyin Village to visit Zhong Muqiu and Jiang Qiaozhen.

After marrying Jiang Mubai, she visited Fangyin Village less frequently, but she sent silver to Jiang Qiaozhen every year. She had once considered bringing Jiang Qiaozhen to live in the Jiang estate for her old age, but Jiang Qiaozhen politely declined.

She wondered how Jiang Qiaozhen and Zhong Muqiu were faring after her passing.

Did they miss her deeply? Did they weep before her ancestral offerings each day? After all, she and Zhong Muqiu were as close as siblings, and Jiang Qiaozhen treated her as a daughter.

This trip, Gu Nanshu brought only Huan Tao and a carriage driver; she brought no one else.

Unbeknownst to her, a large contingent from the Beichen Prince’s mansion covertly guarded her.

Fangyin Village lay ten miles outside the capital, its entrance adorned with a peach blossom grove, serene and picturesque.

Upon entering, the carriage went straight to the Zhong residence.

As the carriage wheels stopped at the gate, a harsh coughing echoed from inside—Jiang Qiaozhen’s cough. Gu Nanshu furrowed her brow, worried that Jiang Qiaozhen was ill and coughing so severely.

She quickly alighted, pushed open the garden gate, and heard Zhong Muqiu’s anxious voice inside: “Mother, stop embroidering. Sanniang is gone. No matter how many pairs of shoes you finish stitching for her, she won’t come back. Come, I’ll take you to the city to see a doctor. You’ve been coughing for two months—if you don’t get treatment, you won’t make it!”

Though blind, Jiang Qiaozhen’s heart was clear. She had embroidered every pair of cloth shoes in the household, including the wedding dress, shoes, insoles, and fan for Feng Sanniang’s marriage.

Yet she could not accept the terrible news of Feng Sanniang’s sudden death. She even insisted that Sanniang could not have been unfaithful—impossible, as she had raised her like a daughter and knew her temperament well.

Since childhood, Sanniang had been fiery and mischievous, sharp-tongued, but pure-hearted and kind. She could never have committed such a betrayal.

After Sanniang’s death, Jiang Qiaozhen began coughing incessantly, consumed by grief. Her condition worsened; she felt she had failed Feng Sanniang’s trust by not protecting her child.

“Cough, cough…” Jiang Qiaozhen pushed Zhong Muqiu’s hand away as she coughed and said, “I’m almost finished. This time the shoe pattern is iris flowers—Sanniang’s favorite. When I finish, you’ll burn them and send them to her. She’ll surely like them. Then we’ll go to the city for treatment, cough, cough…”

Blind, she could only rely on her hands to carefully stitch, needle precise and unerring, coughing and gasping as if struggling to hold on.

Seeing this, Zhong Muqiu sighed deeply, slapping his thigh in frustration as he sat on the bed’s edge, powerless to stop his mother’s stubborn persistence.

There was nothing he could do but wait.

Standing at the door, Gu Nanshu listened to the exchange between mother and son, tears streaming down her face. She clasped her hands tightly over her chest, trembling, struggling to suppress her sobs.

Huan Tao approached quietly, understanding her grief, and softly comforted her, “Princess, please don’t cry. We must attend to the matter at hand. Wipe your tears; I will call them out.”

Huan Tao was right—business first.

Gu Nanshu hastily took a handkerchief to dry her tears, composing herself. When she was ready, Huan Tao lifted her head and called into the room, “Is anyone here? Is Young Master Zhong Muqiu around?”

Inside, the two paused upon hearing the voice outside.

Jiang Qiaozhen set aside her embroidery and said to Zhong Muqiu, “Son, someone is looking for you. Go see them. Don’t stay with your mother all day; I’m fine. You haven’t worked at the Xie family dock these two months—maybe the foreman came looking for you.”

Mentioning the dock made Zhong Muqiu’s face darken with vexation. With a glower, he went outside.