Chapter Ten: Turning Swords into Silk

Page 1 of 3

What was Chunhua up to? Kaiming frowned, wondering what kind of game she was playing with the male soldiers.

But Chunhua was clearly not playing. Her shout echoed through the entire room: “I claimed it first! What are you trying to snatch it for?”

The soldier facing her was tall and robust, unafraid of Chunhua’s towering physique. “These soups have always been ours. You foul-mouthed woman, what’s your problem?”

“Who are you calling foul-mouthed? Who?” Chunhua seemed to go berserk, lunging forward to grab his throat.

The soldier, caught off guard, found himself in a chokehold, waving desperately for help. Several equally burly men rushed to his aid, fists swinging and legs kicking as they surrounded Chunhua.

Chunhua’s two-woman faction came into full play; relying on sheer brute strength, she fought back against the men. In an instant, tables and chairs shattered, bowls and dishes flew, and the entire mess hall erupted into chaos. Everyone scrambled for the exits, the scene resembling a battlefield with arrows whizzing in every direction.

Kaiming dodged the flying debris, hurriedly escaping with the crowd. Just then, Chunhua caught sight of her and shouted, “Kaiming! Help!” No sooner had she called out than a fist landed on her face, squashing her fleshy cheek and rendering her speechless.

Kaiming could hardly spare her a thought, zigzagging desperately to avoid the fray. But suddenly, a male soldier ran up and grabbed her. “You’re with them too!” He twisted her arm forcefully behind her back.

Furious, Kaiming kicked backward, hitting his knee. The man yelped and staggered away. Not yet satisfied, she raised her foot and kicked him between the legs, earning a chorus of pitiful screams as he collapsed.

Xiaoqiao involuntarily sucked in a breath—this woman was ruthless; she attacked as if to cut off generations.

But then someone grabbed her shoulder from behind. Instinctively, Kaiming twisted the attacker’s wrist, spun around, and drove her knee upward. The man managed to shield his groin just in time, drawing a sharp gasp.

“Stop!—” He hadn’t finished speaking when Kaiming’s hard forehead crashed directly into his own, leaving him dazed and reeling. “You—” His head jerked back, his feet slipped on the oily floor, and reflexively he grabbed her as they both fell backward.

With a bone-jarring crash, their bodies slammed onto the ground.

Suddenly, the cacophony in the mess hall ceased, as if the film had frozen—only the image remained, with no sound. Everyone stared at the two sprawled on the floor, faces full of odd expressions. Even Chunhua and the men she’d been fighting paused, clutching each other’s collars, standing frozen as if struck by a pressure point.

Kaiming shook her head, coming to her senses, and suddenly realized she was lying atop the man who’d attacked her—hand in hand, cheek to cheek.

The atmosphere was eerily strange. Why had everyone gone still, not daring to make a sound? She turned her face away and saw the man beneath her. Only then did she understand—she was holding down none other than the Commander himself. His normally narrow eyes were now round as lychees, his face flushed with rage, his glare as if he wanted to devour her alive.

Her mind buzzed. Heavens, it was the Commander! She was pressing down on the Commander!

“Get off me!” the Commander roared. She scrambled off, literally rolling away.

At last, the onlookers snapped out of their stupor and hastily helped Ji to his feet. He clutched the bruise on his forehead, surveying the chaotic mess hall in fury, nearly levitating with rage: “Everyone involved in this brawl—run laps around the training ground! No stopping without my orders!”

Pitiful, really—it had nothing to do with me! Kaiming gasped for breath as she ran, cursing Chunhua for bringing this disaster upon her.

She caught up to Chunhua, who was scampering ahead. “Are you trying to get me killed? With you stirring up trouble every other day, I’ll lose my life sooner or later!”

Chunhua pouted, “It’s not my fault. Those guys have no sense of chivalry…”

Page 2 of 3

“I’m warning you—if anything like this happens again, don’t drag me into it!” Kaiming shouted hoarsely. “I still want to make it out alive!”

“Yeah, yeah, got it!” Chunhua flicked her ear and darted away, quickly leaving her behind.

Their two-woman faction followed at a leisurely pace, while the punished male soldiers jogged along, except for the one Kaiming had nearly crippled.

The male soldier Chunhua had clashed with caught up and ran alongside Kaiming, jutting his chin at her. “You’ve got a vicious streak! If A Kuang’s out of commission, you’ll be responsible for the rest of his life!”

Kaiming shot him a glare—what nonsense.

“I mean it. If he gets sent home, don’t think you’ll stay here either!” He tossed out the threat and ran off. Other soldiers jogging past eyed her strangely.

Night thick as ink, the run continued.

Within a day, Kaiming’s reputation had spread throughout the camp—her “Yaksha” nickname had never been more fitting. Fortunately, the soldier named A Kuang hadn’t been permanently injured; after a few days’ rest, he was back on the training field. Kaiming didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry—glad she wasn’t responsible for A Kuang’s fate, but thanks to Chunhua’s brawling, she’d unintentionally become the most unpopular person in the camp.

Life in the training camp was inhuman: every day hauling sandbags, running obstacle courses, standing in horse stance for two hours beneath the blazing sun, clothes drenched and reeking of sweat. Men and women alike rolled and crawled in the sand; sometimes she wondered if she might die right there on the training ground.

After another grueling day, a rare cool evening arrived. The wind picked up, and both male and female soldiers came out of their quarters, sitting or standing in small groups, whispering and occasionally exchanging flirtatious glances.

Kaiming sought out a secluded spot near the quarters of the upper ranks, sitting on a patch of grass to comb through her freshly washed, damp hair, lost in thought as she gazed at the sky. She thought of her precious ones at home every day—the longing never faded, only grew stronger. The wind rustled through the treetops, stirring her waterfall of black hair, and she couldn’t suppress a wistful sigh.

Suddenly, a startled exclamation sounded nearby, followed by footsteps as a young man emerged from the shadows. Kaiming jumped; so did he. They stared at each other for several seconds before he broke into a smile. “So it’s a living person. I heard sighing and thought it was a female ghost.”

Kaiming looked away, feeling a bit put out.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, sitting down beside her uninvited. “Admiring the moon? But there’s no moon tonight.”

She shot him a glance. He was a strong-limbed, resolute-faced soldier in a casual short-sleeved shirt, smiling benignly without a trace of malice. She knew men and women trained together here, and no one cared much for rules, so she didn’t mind his presence.

“You have beautiful hair,” he complimented. Kaiming paused, her hand on the comb, the scent of fresh soap lingering in the air. Suddenly, she thought of Xuan—“Kaiming’s hair is so beautiful, black and shining. Even the Weaver Girl in the heavens couldn’t weave anything as fine…” The words leapt unbidden from sealed memory, and she couldn’t help touching the half-pendant at her neck.

Xuan’s protective charm—she’d tried hard not to think of him these past weeks, believing she could forget, but every mention burned her like red-hot tongs.

“You look different today,” the soldier teased. “Usually you’re like a fake man, always charging about.”

“You know me?” Kaiming blurted out, suddenly wary. When had she come under surveillance?

“I do,” he replied, eyes crinkling into an appealing arc. “You started a fight your first day here.”

Kaiming peered at his face in the dim light, recognizing the remnants of a memory—wasn’t this the lead male soldier who’d fought Chunhua that day? He’d even warned her that night, and usually gave her the cold shoulder—why was he suddenly so friendly?

“What do you want?” she asked guardedly. People who came looking for her rarely had good intentions.

Page 3 of 3

“No need to be nervous; I just want us all to bury the hatchet. After all, we train on the same field—keeping up this hostility isn’t helping anyone.” He winked at her. “I’m their team captain. On behalf of my squad, I’d like to invite you ladies to share a drink and make peace.”

A drink? The very word made Kaiming’s mouth water. Back in the modern world, she could hold her liquor, but she hadn’t touched a drop in half a month at the camp; her fingers were already itching.

The soldier led her quietly past the quarters of the upper ranks, sneaking out the back. When the patrolling guards saw them, they pretended not to notice and walked away. Kaiming was puzzled, but he grinned, “They’ve all been bribed. Besides, I’m an old hand—who here wouldn’t do me a favor?” Kaiming silently admired his social skills, thinking he would be useful if she ever wanted to sneak out for a drink again.

At the back gate stood a spirited horse, stamping its hooves. A smaller soldier approached, admonishing, “Be quick and come back soon!” The captain nodded, took the reins, and Kaiming asked in surprise, “Where’d you get a horse? I haven’t seen a single one come or go from this camp in half a month—I always wondered how the officers traveled.”

“Right next to our camp is the stables—warhorses are trained and kept there. That little soldier is an old acquaintance, so I borrowed a horse for the night. The tavern’s far from here!” He finished his explanation in one breath, gesturing for her to mount.

With his help, she was hoisted onto the horse, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. Nimbly, the captain swung up behind her. “Hold on tight!” he called, shaking the reins. The horse leapt forward, and she clung to the saddle in excitement—her first time on horseback, something she’d never experienced even in modern times. Dream or reality, it was thrilling.

The wind howled past her ears, cool air whipping her face. Though there was nothing romantic about sharing a horse in the darkness, she was soon so jostled by the ride that she lost all track of time. She didn’t even realize when they entered the town.

First there was a glimmer of light; then, like a blind person suddenly seeing again, the world burst into brilliance. Crowds of people, blazing lanterns—it was like stepping into a dream. The night market was as lively as anything in the modern world, a stark contrast to the deathly stillness of the training camp.

The captain led her to a crossroads and, after dismounting, expertly made his way into a bustling tavern. Kaiming followed in a daze as the waiter greeted the captain familiarly and pointed him toward a private room upstairs.

“They’re already here!” the captain called, waving her up, while the waiter led the horse away. Kaiming, still not quite awake from her dreamlike state, followed him upstairs.

Pushing open the door to the private room, she found it crowded with burly men and women. Chunhua and her two-woman faction were already flushed and shiny-faced from drinking; their male companions were similarly red-eyed and tipsy, half the food and drink on the table gone, empty bottles littering the floor.

Heavens—these two women had no qualms about drinking with their former rivals.

Chunhua spotted them and jumped up, grabbing Kaiming’s arm. “Come on, let’s drink them under the table!”

The captain, who’d come in with her, looked at his teammates and laughed, “Are they really that formidable?”

Several men raised their thumbs in agreement. Chunhua, emboldened by drink, roared with laughter, “If you’re drinking with Kaiming, not even a whole table of you could keep up!”

A strange expression flickered across the captain’s face. He signaled to one of his men and glanced around at his team. “Where’s A Kuang?”

“Here,” came a sullen reply from the doorway. A smaller male teammate entered. Kaiming, hearing the name, paid attention. He was young, with an unremarkable face—someone you’d never pick out of a crowd. So this was the man she’d almost crippled.

A Kuang swept a resentful glance at her, then turned to the captain. “I don’t understand—why invite this woman?”

The captain smiled. “I have my reasons.” He gestured for him to sit.

A Kuang could only obey, sitting sullenly as he nursed his drink.