Chapter Forty-Eight: The Woman Soldier and the Lady Scribe

Although he had asked, “Did your aunt agree?”, Zhu Yuanzhang was well aware that without Ma Xiuying’s approval, Zhu Wenzheng would never cross the river. What truly concerned him was “the magistrate Sun’s daughter.” For all his battlefield exploits and amorous adventures in recent years, the thought of marrying the eldest daughter of a magistrate was enough to quicken his pulse.

Zhu Wenzheng failed to catch the true meaning behind Zhu Yuanzhang’s words. “Of course Aunt agreed. As for Miss Sun’s background, I’ve already made inquiries. While her biological father wasn’t a magistrate, she is indeed the daughter of the Sun family, magistrates in Changzhou. When Xiang Pulue captured Changzhou, her father died in the fighting, leaving her alone to be adopted by Marshal Ma.”

Zhu Yuanzhang knew there must be more to the story—otherwise, why would the cherished daughter of a Changzhou magistrate be raised by the Green Banner Army’s marshal in Yangzhou? Yet he was now thoroughly exhilarated. “A magistrate’s daughter is nothing to scoff at. And she’s Ma Shixiong’s daughter as well! I know Ma Shixiong—he’s an honest man.”

Still oblivious to Zhu Yuanzhang’s true intentions, Zhu Wenzheng continued, “Aunt said that under Marshal Ma Shixiong’s command are four or five thousand armored soldiers. With those troops in your hands, Uncle, you’d be as a tiger with wings—Ji Qing City could be yours in a single campaign.”

Zhu Yuanzhang valued Ma Shixiong’s thousands of soldiers as highly as the prospect of marrying a magistrate’s daughter. The string of misfortunes he’d suffered in recent months seemed to dissipate entirely. “Yes, yes, your aunt is absolutely right. You’ve performed a great service here, Wenzheng. Once Miss Sun becomes your wife, you’ll take command of troops yourself.”

Though Zhu Yuanzhang’s power base had been won through the efforts of veterans like Xu Da, Tang He, and Hua Yun, he trusted his own kin and loved ones most deeply. Despite the storm their appointment had caused recently, now that the furor had passed, he naturally wished for family to hold command.

Zhu Wenzheng was overjoyed, unable to contain his excitement. “Thank you, Uncle! Thank you, Aunt! I will not let you down!”

Life with Zhu Yuanzhang and Ma Xiuying had been pleasant, but commanding an army and forging his own destiny was the true path for a man. Zhu Yuanzhang, too, pinned high hopes on this marriage. “For now, keep your eyes on the situation in the north of the river. Liu Yi, ah Liu Yi... you never expected this, did you? All your efforts to win over the local gentry and personally oversee Chuzhou, and in the end only a handful of minor figures joined you. Altogether, you’ve gathered less than a thousand men…”

Zhu Yuanzhang was practically intoxicated by the thought. “Yet I not only marry the magistrate’s daughter, but also secure Ma Shixiong’s five thousand armored troops. Ma Shixiong is highly respected among the Green Banner Army; with him on our side, thousands more will follow. Truly, the best of both worlds!”

A broad smile broke across Zhu Wenzheng’s face. “Congratulations, Uncle! My heartfelt congratulations!”

At that moment, Sun Yueyong’s cheeks were flushed, though she forced herself to wear a smile despite her shyness and humiliation.

As the eldest daughter of the Changzhou magistrate, she had never known such shame. When Xiang Pulue’s army swept through Jiangnan and captured Ji Qing, Changzhou fell as an afterthought. Her parents both died in the defense, and Sun Yueyong herself suffered a period of displacement and hardship—until Marshal Ma Shixiong of the Green Banner Army in Yangzhou adopted her as his own. Ma Shixiong, for all his generosity, truly treated her like a daughter.

Yet as his daughter, her marriage naturally fell under his authority. At first, he had intended to wed her to Zhu Yuanzhang, Deputy Marshal of Chuzhou, but then abruptly changed his mind. Now, the dashing young Marshal of Chaohu, Liu Yi, was to be her husband.

Liu Yi was handsome and pleasing to the eye, but the problem was that he was already married. Guo Yunyu, his wife, was right there by his side, watching her with unconcealed amusement. Whatever title they might bestow—perhaps “principal concubine”—she would be nothing more than a secondary wife in the Liu household.

Ma Shixiong had often instructed her, “Better to be the concubine of a hero than the wife of a mediocrity.” Yet Sun Yueyong wished for nothing more than a peaceful, ordinary life. To her, being a hero’s concubine was a hundred times worse than being a common wife. The more she thought on it, the greater her shame and anger.

Worse still, Liu Yi was a prominent leader of the Red Turban Army—the very force that had killed her parents. The Chaohu navy and Xiang Pulue’s Red Turbans were cut from the same cloth. Unable to avenge her family, forced instead to wed into their ranks, how could Sun Yueyong bear it?

Liu Yi dared not speak; Guo Yunyu, however, boldly eyed her new rival.

Sun Yueyong was undeniably beautiful, carrying an air of scholarly refinement rare among women. It was plain to see her literary accomplishments were formidable. She wore a white crane-embroidered blouse and a pleated skirt, her skin fair as snow, her features delicate and lovely, her bearing elegant, and beneath it all a hint of stubborn competitiveness. Such a woman was the very embodiment of “a fragrant sleeve beside the lamp”—the ideal companion for any scholar or general.

Guo Yunyu’s original plan had been to bring Sun Yueyong into the Liu household, discipline her thoroughly, and only after taming her send her across the river. Yet confronted by Sun Yueyong herself, for reasons unknown, Guo Yunyu suddenly felt a pang of compassion. “Sun Yueyong, you are indeed beautiful, but what my husband needs is a staff officer—someone calm in crisis, loyal and meticulous. Can you truly fulfill such a role?”

To outsiders, Sun Yueyong was a frail young woman. Though she had managed much of Ma Shixiong’s correspondence, most assumed she was merely a decorative figure. Yet deep within, she harbored a fierce, unyielding spirit, wishing she were a man so she might achieve her ambitions. Hearing Guo Yunyu’s words, she replied with icy composure, “If Marshal Liu is willing to entrust me with his confidences, I am more than willing to dedicate both body and soul. Marshal Liu, will you give me this opportunity?”

In truth, her heart already leapt at the prospect.

She had assisted Ma Shixiong with paperwork, but those tasks were trivial. Though treated as a daughter, she had no influence on his decisions. In the Ma household, she was no mere dependent, yet she remained little more than an ornament.

But according to Guo Yunyu, in the Liu household she might become Liu Yi’s most trusted staff officer, handling the army’s most confidential documents and taking part in core decisions—a challenge she had never known before.

Sun Yueyong had never imagined such an opportunity would come her way. Yet she was acutely aware that it would not come twice. Guo Yunyu, smiling radiantly, turned to Liu Yi. “Husband, do you dare entrust your most important matters to Yueyong?”

Liu Yi recognized that Guo Yunyu was deliberately putting him on the spot. He deftly sidestepped, “Matters of the household are for you to decide, Yunyu. Will you add another pair of chopsticks to our table?”

Guo Yunyu’s mood brightened considerably. She looked to Sun Yueyong. “To serve as a female staff officer and secretary in our Chaohu army is no easy task. Yueyong, tell me: what skills do you possess?”