Chapter 78: An Ordinary Yet Extraordinary Day (Part 2)

In the early morning, while most people were still drowsy with sleep, the arrival of the princess threw the kitchen into chaos. Everyone who ought to be awake was roused, and even those who weren’t supposed to wake found themselves bustling about amid the clatter of flying chickens and broken eggs, dogs leaping in panic. After finishing a bowl of noodles and feeling their bellies round with satisfaction, she led Wu Xiaoqi and Uncle Fu, carrying food, toward the training ground.

Each of the little lynx and the little white tiger had a small lunchbox of food tied onto its back. They had long been accustomed to following Hua Chuer out of the kitchen, and had grown familiar with some of the kitchen staff. After all, their owner was a princess—would the cooks dare refuse them? If they did, the little beasts would resort to nipping, scratching, and feigning affection until they got their way.

On the training ground, the squad of twenty-five was still running, and Wu Yueling felt a surge of respect. These men were truly impressive. She had hesitated when selecting them, unsure if they could handle such advanced training.

Arriving at their dormitory—a small outbuilding at the rear of the residence, largely occupied by over 2,500 layabouts—she found that the rest of the reserve soldiers had not yet risen. Previously, spies from other factions had been rooted out among these 2,500 men, largely thanks to Chuer’s efforts. But more importantly, forging a team with true spirit was no easy feat.

The twenty-five were performing well, but what of the other two thousand? Only time would tell.

Once breakfast was finished, Wu Yueling finally set her long-prepared plan into motion.

“Ma Daha!” she called.

“Here!” Though his face was still stubbled, Ma Daha’s entire demeanor had changed through rigorous training; his eyes sparkled with vigor, and he no longer looked the part of a dispirited uncle.

“Your beard needs tidying, it’ll make you look even sharper!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Nodding in satisfaction, she outlined the upcoming general training, appointing him as regiment commander, with the remaining twenty-four as company captains. These arrangements had been explained during their previous training, and they adapted quickly.

She sent Wu Xiaoqi and Uncle Fu back ahead, choosing to stand by and watch, occasionally teasing the little lynx or scratching the little white tiger behind the ears.

“Attention! Line up! Wake the others with a shout—let’s rouse those lazy rabbits!”

Ma Daha led them: five men to a row, five rows to a group, forming a neat square in the snow.

The twenty-five men stood like stakes driven into the icy ground, and together they shouted to the sky:

“One! Two! Three! Four! Get up!”

“One! Two! Three! Four! Assemble!”

Their voices echoed to the heavens, thunderous and deafening, knocking icicles loose from the eaves nearby.

Wu Yueling watched, both surprised and moved. Such camaraderie!

Doors and windows in the two-story dormitory flew open as men peered out to see what was happening. Some shouted complaints: “You lot never stop! Can’t you be quiet?” Annoyed grumbles about the disturbance abounded.

Rubbing the plump little lynx, Wu Yueling mused, “You little thing, so cozy—eating a pound of meat a day, growing sideways not just tall.” These layabouts, too, had grown complacent, forgetting the days they once begged for food on the streets.

“One, two, three, four! All assemble and greet the princess!”

Ma Daha led the square with another shout. Though not as thunderous as before, it still stung the layabouts into action.

Who had come? The princess herself. If they didn’t rise now, they’d either be punished or expelled—no good outcome either way.

One after another, over two thousand men tumbled out, forming a disorganized mass, crowding together for warmth, clothes disheveled, spirits limp and lazy. Wu Yueling’s head ached at the sight—how could they be drilled in such a state? She found brush and ink and wrote a few lines.

With no other option, she ordered Ma Daha and the others to take command, each company captain overseeing about a hundred men, and sent a note to Yu Chao’en.

Soon, the men were divided up, and Ma Daha began drilling the unruly crowd, many of whom cracked jokes and refused to cooperate.

Wu Yueling noted every fault, identifying a ringleader. She had already devised a way to deal with these habits—make an example, strike down the ringleader to warn the rest, and stamp out these bad tendencies once and for all.

The man she had chosen had no idea he’d caught the princess’s eye. While Ma Daha corrected another’s stance, he whispered, “That princess is truly beautiful. Wouldn’t it be a dream to marry her? What do you think, He Yuan? Hey, He Yuan! What’s your opinion?”

Clicking his tongue when he got no reply, he punched He Yuan’s arm, huffed, and blew at the messy strand of hair falling over his own brow, only making it worse.

Irritated, He Yuan slapped his hand away. “Zhu Buwen, just die already. With your third-rate looks, the princess would never give you a second glance. If she did, I’d jab out your pig eyes myself!”

“Watch your mouth! You’re the one with dog eyes! I’m a gem hidden in stone, you know nothing! Look at yourself!” Zhu Buwen snapped, turning away to amuse himself in the cold wind.

Wu Yueling listened quietly, thinking, So that’s what you think of me? Just wait, I’ll see you dealt with soon enough! It made her queasy just to think about it.

At that moment, the fifty palace guards under Yu Chao’en entered the training ground. Facing two thousand men, the guards wondered if the princess truly intended for fifty to fight them all—quite possible, given her reputation.

A rotten apple spoils the barrel, she thought. If one man’s attitude is wrong, how can the whole group be right?

Without a word, Wu Yueling strode up to a guard, snatched the spear from his hand, and barked an order: training halted, divide into twenty-five squares and stand at attention.

“Ma Daha, step forward!”

Planting the spear in the frozen ground, the red tassel fluttering wildly, Wu Yueling’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding, her eyes glinting with a severity they had never shown before, her blue robe snapping in the wind.

Ma Daha looked at the princess, moving like the wind, stepping out with head held high. He had never seen her like this—no longer delicate and gentle, but a commander with bloodied spear in hand.

She circled Ma Daha’s formation—about a hundred men, all standing crookedly. She stopped in front of the one who’d spoken about her, fixing him with a calm gaze. Weren’t you interested in me just now? Why not look at me now?

Zhu Buwen sensed her approach, expecting a whiff of perfume and powder, even wanting to take a deep breath of it. But there was no scent at all. Did the princess not dress up?

In truth, she never wore makeup. Why bother with vulgar cosmetics?

Lowering his head, he tried to think of something flattering to say, hoping her youth and inexperience might earn him a minor post. He had just raised his hands to salute when suddenly he felt himself lifted into the air.

Wu Yueling had thrust her spear through his collar without injuring him, hoisted him onto her shoulder, and strode to the front of the formation, tossing the stunned Zhu Buwen aside.

“First: From this moment on, you are all soldiers of the Princess’s Household—indeed, palace guards! Second: Since you all signed contracts before the New Year, you have no grounds to challenge the authority of this house. Third: Nor do you have the right to challenge my authority! Any who fail to obey, any who act without discipline, this is your fate!”

Her eyes were cold and unwavering. She swung her spear and struck Zhu Buwen’s backside with a flurry of blows as he cried out in pain. She held back half her strength—otherwise, his bones would have snapped.

She ignored his protests about being a former village chief with experience, and swept the fifty guards and Yu Chao’en with a cold glance. Then, fixing her gaze on the two thousand men, she declared, “Anyone who disobeys their superiors from now on will be beaten first, and then locked away in the black room to reflect!”

With that, she tossed the spear to Ma Daha, clapped her hands, and turned to leave.

No one saw her as a delicate princess anymore. Most minds went blank—their princess was so fierce, they could hardly believe it.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Ma Daha led the salute.

“Long live the Princess!”

The training ground echoed with their resounding shouts—orderly, clear, and strong.