Chapter 85 Lu Feng Loves to Fight

Chapter 85 Lu Feng the Warrior

"Princess Consort, at month's end, Madam General leads a team to command supply convoys between the two regions."

"Wait?"

Jiang Wanrou abruptly interrupted, disbelief coloring her voice. "You're saying... your general's wife... personally oversees transport of military supplies?"

This completely overturned Jiang Wanrou's understanding of propriety. She prided herself on managing household affairs with grace and propriety, believing no noblewoman in the capital could surpass her diligence or virtue. Yet Lu Qingling was the general's wife—how could she appear publicly, undertaking men's work?

And such an important task as military supplies, no less.

The maid smiled, her tone brimming with pride. "Indeed! The General's Lady commands them herself. But that's nothing—she even leads a company of women warriors, each member skilled in combat, no less capable than men!"

Jiang Wanrou was utterly stunned. The "general's wife" described by the maid was a woman who could match any man, yet the Lu Qingling from yesterday had clung to her in tears, trembling before Lu Feng, not daring to speak out of turn—completely different from the willful and domineering sister-in-law she remembered.

Hiding her surprise, she followed the maid toward the main courtyard. The general's estate was vast, its open courtyards paved with unrefined stonework, lacking the refined elegance of the capital's pavilions, rockeries, and flowing streams. The furnishings were rugged, exuding an unconstrained, bold atmosphere.

When Sister-in-law arrived, Lu Qingling was polishing a long spear. Spotting her sister-in-law, her eyes brightened, and she hurried forward to grasp Jiang Wanrou's hands. "Sister-in-law, I was just about to look for you. You're new here, and this place lacks the capital's luxuries. If there’s anything lacking in hospitality, please speak freely—don’t be formal with me."

Jiang Wanrou squeezed her hands in return, feeling the calluses on her palms. She smiled. "We’re family—why would I be formal with you? Don’t worry, I’m perfectly comfortable, and the servants have been most attentive."

The two chatted warmly for a while before Jiang Wanrou presented the mutton-fat jade. Lu Qingling said, "I’ve been overwhelmed with duties lately and haven’t had much time to accompany you. Later, I’ll arrange for some attendants to take you around the city."

"Though Wei City lacks the capital's luxuries, it has its own charm."

Sister-in-law’s heart stirred, but then she recalled Lu Feng’s warning and shook her head, declining gently. "No need. I’ll just stroll around the courtyard."

"What’s there to see in the courtyard? In the dead of winter, not even a blade of grass grows. Sister, let me tell you—"

Suddenly, realization dawned on Lu Qingling, and she blurted out, "Did Eldest Brother forbid you from leaving?"

Jiang Wanrou responded with a helpless smile.

Though timid in Eldest Brother’s presence, Lu Qingling’s courage flared in his absence. Indignantly, she exclaimed, "Eldest Brother is completely unreasonable! You’re so virtuous, never putting a foot wrong—why would he confine you?"

House arrest was a punishment, reserved for women who had erred—like the illegitimate daughter of the Duke’s household, who was locked away and forbidden to leave.

Though Jiang Wanrou was privately displeased, she always upheld Lu Feng’s dignity in public. With a gentle smile, she explained, "He’s just concerned for my safety. He’s risking his life at the front—if I can’t help him, the least I can do is avoid distracting him."

"Besides, you know how he is."

Jiang Wanrou gave her a knowing look, and Lu Qingling sighed in agreement. "True. Poor Sister-in-law."

Once, Lu Qingling had believed an illegitimate daughter could never be worthy of her esteemed elder brother. But now, even as Lu Feng’s status had risen further, she understood—marriage wasn’t just about rank. Her cold-faced elder brother could only be softened by Jiang Wanrou.

Anyone else would either have clashed with his stubbornness or cowered in fear. Though their reunion had been brief yesterday, Lu Qingling could see how deeply Lu Feng cherished her.

Back in the Lu household, she had never seen him share a drink with anyone, let alone finish someone else’s wine. Jiang Wanrou had a low alcohol tolerance—yesterday, she had only taken small sips of the sweet fruit wine prepared specially for her before Lu Feng naturally took the cup from her. Jiang Wanrou shot him a discreet look, but he remained unmoved, their hands briefly wrestling unseen. Lu Qingling noticed but said nothing, feeling both envious and wistful.

She missed Ling Xiao too.

During tense wartime, Ling Xiao often stayed away for months. Missing him dearly, she had devised a plan to deliver clothes as an excuse to see him and soothe her longing.

When the topic turned to sending clothes and shoes to the front, Jiang Wanrou heaped praise on Lu Qingling and offered to assist. Since she couldn’t leave the estate anyway, it gave her something worthwhile to do.

As a guest, Lu Qingling hesitated to impose, but Jiang Wanrou didn’t press the matter. Their conversation continued, with Lu Qingling doing most of the talking while Jiang Wanrou listened attentively—to stories about Ling Xiao and their children, local customs, and her female regiment's exploits.

She came from a military family, and the Duke of Lu never held her back. Even in her youth, Lu Qingling had a passion for practicing martial arts. Now, far from the capital’s oversight, she grew animated as she spoke and even picked up her red-tasseled spear, giving Jiang Wanrou an impromptu demonstration.

Her graceful yet fierce display drew applause and admiration from Jiang Wanrou. Lu Qingling laughed and said, "Elder sister, if you’re interested, I can teach you when I have free time."

Though she was bold enough to offer, Jiang Wanrou dared not learn. Unlike Lu Qingling, she had been raised on lessons in womanly virtues. Martial arts were far too "improper" for her, and she wouldn’t know how to explain it to Lu Feng. She could only envy Lu Qingling’s freedom while politely refusing.

Soon, Jiang Wanrou realized that Lu Qingling was never idle.

Initially, she had hired people to deliver clothes to the frontlines just to find an excuse to see Ling Xiao, so the operation had been small. But now, with the sudden escalation of the war, military supplies were in urgent demand. Though the court had dispatched resources, they were slow to arrive, and the pressure on Lu Qingling’s side had surged.

She was swamped, barely pausing to breathe. Jiang Wanrou tactfully avoided disturbing her, keeping to herself in the courtyard. The courtyard was spacious and bare, and she often spent entire mornings staring out at the vast frontier skies.

Lu Qingling worked tirelessly with a group of women to sew winter clothes and boots for the soldiers. Everyone in the general’s estate had their duties, and as a guest, Jiang Wanrou wasn’t asked to pitch in.

Jiang Wanrou had plenty of free time but deep loneliness.

She obeyed Lu Feng’s instructions, just as she had in the capital—never venturing beyond the inner courtyard. With no one to disturb her, she could only summon Xiao Yuner for companionship. But as days passed, doting on the sweet little Ling Yun, she couldn’t help but think of her own young children back in the capital, which only deepened her sorrow.

After ten days of this, the isolation was driving her mad. She sought out Lu Qingling, pleading with logic and emotion, insisting that she be given something to do.

The sisters-in-law mobilized the women to work together. Most were skilled and were soldiers’ wives, probably sewing for their own men, so they worked with extra care. As the Princess Consort—and one with mediocre embroidery skills—Jiang Wanrou couldn’t lower herself to do the manual work. After quietly observing for two days, she began to notice inefficiencies.

Despite the women working day and night without rest, their output was still a mere drop in the ocean compared to the frontline’s demand. The military shortages were vast, and their pace was simply too slow.

Making a single garment involved cutting the fabric, sewing it with needle and thread, and finally attaching buttons—a tedious process. Some women were deft and quick, while others excelled at cutting but were slow at sewing, and still others were skilled with needlework but lacked the strength to fasten buttons properly.

After observing for several days, Jiang Wanrou discussed with Lu Qingling and divided the women into groups. One group focused solely on cutting, passing their work to the next group for sewing, and so on. The women, accustomed to their old ways, were doubtful at first about this "Princess Consort" who had suddenly appeared with new ideas.

Far from the capital’s oversight, imperial authority held little sway in these remote towns. Moreover, Jiang Wanrou was breathtakingly beautiful! Even when ill, she dressed impeccably. Though not as extravagant as in the capital, she still wore silk jackets, embroidered vests, and fox-fur cloaks. Her dark hair was adorned with understated yet elegant jeweled hairpins, and her ears glimmered with lustrous pearls. Her fair complexion was accentuated by vibrant colors—deep reds, bright blues, and fresh greens—paired with matching jewelry. When she appeared, even the drab, humble room seemed to brighten.

A woman this stunning belonged in a boudoir, not in the harsh frontier.

She smiled often and spoke softly, but some of the rougher women resented her and dared to talk back. Lu Qingling fiercely defended her sister-in-law, her expression darkening as she prepared to strike, but Jiang Wanrou intervened, saying, "No. Our men are fighting bloody battles at the front—how can we strike their wives at home? That’s unacceptable."

Though she spared them punishment, she did not simply forgive and forget. Instead of giving a long-winded explanation to win goodwill, she had the defiant women expelled. Years managing a household had taught her the importance of balancing kindness with authority. Excessive leniency was weakness—she would not tolerate disrespect.

Grumbling spread among the women, but after this example was made, they only dared to grumble quietly behind her back. Jiang Wanrou forced them to change their work habits but compensated with thoughtful gestures. In the cold winter, she had ginger tea brewed for them—a large pot shared among them, costing little effort or money.

Gradually, the complaints lessened. During breaks, sipping warm ginger tea, one woman murmured, "Perhaps the Princess Consort has a point."

By the end of the month, the bundles of clothes and boots ready for shipment had doubled. Now, the women—and even Lu Qingling—were utterly convinced of Jiang Wanrou’s competence.

Lu Qingling gazed at her with admiration and exclaimed, "Sister-in-law, you’re amazing!"

In just over ten days, Jiang Wanrou had not only doubled their efficiency but also alleviated their material shortages. The scarcity wasn’t due to lack of funds but lack of goods—money couldn’t buy what wasn’t there.

This winter was exceptionally cold, and the most crucial material for winter coats was cotton, which was in short supply. With the city heavily guarded and trade restricted, households had to scavenge for old cotton, but even that was scarce. Faced with this dilemma, Jiang Wanrou devised a solution: mixing the limited cotton with reed catkins and hemp fibers, then using coarse, wind-resistant fabric for the outer layer. The resulting garments were less warm than pure cotton, but the same amount of material could now make two or even three coats. After much deliberation, Jiang Wanrou deemed it feasible—a temporary measure until proper supplies arrived.

Better to have more rough garments for more soldiers than fewer finely made ones.

Jiang Wanrou smiled and said, "I merely offered suggestions. The credit goes to all of you."

She was surprised Lu Qingling joined in herself. No wonder the women held her in such high regard—it wasn’t just because she was the "general’s wife."

Looking at the composed and capable Lu Qingling before her, it was hard to believe she was once a pampered young lady. Could marriage truly change a person’s nature so profoundly?

And what about herself? Jiang Wanrou searched her memories—the dim years in the marquis’s estate, the silent and withdrawn sixth young lady she had once been. She could barely recall that version of herself.

"Sister-in-law?"

Jiang Wanrou woke with a start and said to Lu Qingling, "What did you just say? I didn’t catch it."

"Big sister, you’re too exhausted. You should rest for a while."

After persuading her, Lu Qingling suddenly pulled Jiang Wanrou aside and gave her a knowing smile.

"Sister-in-law, do you... miss my elder brother?"

Jiang Wanrou chided, "Of course! Don’t you miss your General Ling Xiao?"

She and Lu Feng had only been apart for a month, while Lu Qingling and Ling Xiao, as husband and wife, had spent far more time separated... Wait?

It dawned on her.

"You want me to go with you to transport this shipment?"

Lu Qingling nodded. "Exactly. I’m definitely going—I’ve traveled this route many times, and with guards by my side, it’s very safe."

She wanted to take Jiang Wanrou along, but Jiang Wanrou was too "proper." Lu Feng had forbidden her from appearing in public, and she had obediently stayed within the general’s residence since he left, not stepping foot outside even once.

Lu Qingling, used to the wild freedom of the border city, pitied her gentle sister-in-law but also feared Lu Feng too much to push further. She whispered, "We leave tomorrow. Think it over carefully, and just come find me if you decide to go."

Then, unable to resist adding anxiously, "Sister-in-law, please be merciful—don’t tell him it was my idea."

Jiang Wanrou was amused by her timid expression. She neither agreed nor refused outright.

Instead, she grasped Lu Qingling’s hand. "Good sister, I’ll remember your kindness."

The next day, Lu Qingling set out from the general’s residence with a retinue of guards, her female guard unit, and dozens of carts laden with military supplies, moving in a formidable convoy.

***

Thirty kilometers away, inside the commander’s tent, the stench of blood mixed with damp earth filled the air. At the center stood a sturdy wooden table, its surface covered with a map marked in red ink with mountains, rivers, and densely clustered cities. Lu Feng sat imposingly on an armchair draped with tiger skin, clad in gleaming silver armor, his chest spattered with blood.

"Where are the damn provisions?" his voice was icy.

The war against the Turks had been raging for over a month. Ling Xiao had won the first battle, and then Lu Feng, who had once beheaded Duojie, arrived, bolstering morale. Though casualties were heavy, overall, the Qi Dynasty held the upper hand.

While soldiers fought and bled on the front lines, supply lines were failing. Were they to fight in thin clothes on empty stomachs?

Lu Feng’s temper flared—someone would bear the brunt of it.

None of the generals before him dared to speak. His gaze swept downward as he declared, "The transport officer will be executed."

"Your Highness, show mercy!"

"Your Highness, calm your anger!"

The others dropped to one knee. A handsome young man with sun-weathered skin, sharp brows, and bright eyes spoke up, "Your Highness, the winter cold makes transporting provisions and equipment difficult. A few days’ delay is inevitable—this is common."

The Emperor himself had overseen the military supplies, so delays weren’t intentional. The first batch of provisions had arrived early, or else they wouldn’t have lasted this long. This time, the delay was only two days—the transport officer was at fault, but not to the point of death.

Lu Feng’s voice was harsh as a whip-crack. "Military orders are ironclad. Even two hours’ delay is enough to cost him his head—let alone two days!"

"I’ve long heard of the Northern Army’s strict discipline, Ling Xiao. Is this your so-called strict discipline?"

The young man from earlier—Ling Xiao—saluted stiffly. "Your Highness, forgive me!"

Before Lu Feng’s arrival, Ling Xiao had been the revered general. But now, officially, Lu Feng was the imperial prince sent by the court, holding the command seal. Privately, he was Ling Xiao’s brother-in-law and former mentor. For the past month, the military camp had been ruled by Lu Feng’s word alone.

Modu was warlike and launched his troops with overwhelming force, only to encounter Lu Feng, who was even more "mad" than him. In just a month, the situation shifted from defense to offense. Lu Feng was a master of military strategy and personally led elite troops in the vanguard, driving the Turkic forces into repeated retreats. However, this near-suicidal approach also inflicted heavy losses on the Qi army. Led by Ling Xiao, several generals spent their days persuading him, finally managing to rein him in somewhat.

In front of others, Lu Feng still remembered to save face for Ling Xiao. He dismissed everyone, and when only the two of them remained in the tent, he said coolly, "Ling Xiao, since when have you developed such womanly compassion?"

"I was wrong," Ling Xiao replied, standing aside. "Please punish me, Your Highness."

Lu Feng tolerated no flaws, yet he wouldn’t punish a general over such a minor matter. The two discussed military affairs over the map. Recently, Lu Feng slept no more than three hours a day, his eyes dark with exhaustion, bloodshot, and framed by the old scar on his brow. His entire demeanor was cold and intimidating, striking fear into those around him.

No one dared to defy him, yet Ling Xiao still regarded Lu Feng as family. Rising from a minor officer to a regional commander, Ling Xiao owed much to Lu Feng’s support, but his own bravery, fearlessness, and sharp instincts were equally crucial.

He keenly sensed that Lu Feng’s love for battle wasn’t solely about repelling invaders. Blood splattered on his curved blade, and his eyes burned with a savage thrill.

Ling Xiao lowered his gaze and suddenly said, "Qingling delivers military supplies around this time every month. She might arrive soon."

Lu Feng waved it off. "Those things... barely make a dent."

With hundreds of thousands of soldiers at the front, Lu Qingling’s few carts of clothing were insufficient. She was his younger sister, and her little games couldn’t escape his notice.

Ling Xiao had abandoned his wife and children to guard the border, and Lu Feng wasn’t cruel enough to begrudge him small comforts. He closed his eyes and waved a hand. "Go on. Don’t let me keep you."

At the mention of his wife, a faint smile appeared on Ling Xiao’s stern face. He said softly, "I’ll ask Qingling to join us for lunch. She worries about you."

Lu Feng snorted, not even lifting his eyelids. "Does Lu Qingling even know she ‘worries’ about me?"

She bolts like a rabbit at the sight of him—hardly convincing.

Ling Xiao fell silent. Clearly not one for smooth talk, he sighed and saluted before withdrawing.

Lu Feng leaned back, stretched out his long legs, and crossed them casually atop the heavy desk. His chin tilted slightly, his sharp brows arching toward his temples, a few strands of black hair falling over his forehead. His entire body was taut, like a bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap, even with his eyes closed.

No one dared approach the commander’s tent carelessly. After a while, a young officer in heavy armor, his helmet’s red tassel swaying, entered. He skirted the weapon rack, carefully placed a cup of tea before Lu Feng, and tiptoed out.

Lu Feng’s eyes flew open.