Chapter 70: The Adorable Trio

Using the pretext of relieving herself, she slipped quietly to the mansion's main gate, finally escaping the suffocating atmosphere inside. Pressing her hand to her chest, she let out a sigh—how could a simple meal become so tense just because of Dayin? This wasn't the imperial court; there was no need to constantly be on guard.

She flashed a warm, amiable smile at the guards, waving like an official on inspection. “You've all worked hard,” she said, stepping confidently over the threshold.

But the soldiers crossed their weapons before her, forming a barrier. In a deep voice, one demanded, “You're not from the household. Do you have the pass token to leave?”

Seriously? Dayin was really running things like this? A pass token? Did she think her general’s estate was the imperial palace? She drew herself up and placed her hands on her hips. “I've just been promoted to commander and am visiting today. Is this how the general's mansion treats its guests? Can’t even grant a bit of personal freedom?”

The soldiers exchanged glances, sizing her up. They’d seen her enter earlier, but now she was in different attire and they didn’t recognize her at first. She lifted her chin higher. “If I tell the general you’ve been disrespectful, you’ll regret it!”

After a quick, whispered conversation, the guards lowered their weapons and bowed respectfully. “Please forgive us, Commander. We meant no offense.”

“Forget it,” she replied with a wave, secretly delighted. Leaders ought to be magnanimous, after all.

“However, for your safety, Commander, we will assign someone to escort you out, and remain with you until your affairs are concluded,” they added, still polite.

Kaiming hesitated. Dayin was truly difficult; even her gate guards were shrewd. She nodded helplessly. It didn’t matter—she was unfamiliar with the city anyway, so an extra guide could be useful.

One of the soldiers gave a signal, and another dashed off into the estate.

Stepping out, Kaiming felt as if the air outside was fresher. People really were influenced by their moods. She stretched languidly, grumbling inwardly.

She’d barely gone a few steps when a thunderous voice boomed: “Kaiming! Kaiming, you rascal! It really is you!”

A burly figure appeared out of nowhere, lunging at her and seizing both arms, shaking her vigorously.

Caught off guard, she was thoroughly rattled, her entire body shaken like a stick, astonished. Once she’d steadied herself with the movement, she finally saw who it was—a woman whose grinning face was even rounder with new layers of fat, her back straight and solid from training, her body sturdier than ever. Wasn’t this her long-absent friend, Chunhua?

“Chunhua…” she gasped, still reeling from the assault, her teeth nearly biting her tongue.

“It’s me! Kaiming, you wretch, you still recognize me?” Chunhua clung to her as if reunited with a long-lost lover, shaking her so hard her shouts drowned out the bustle around. “Where have you been? You disappeared from the training squad—General Yubing kept making excuses, and I thought they’d killed you!”

“My life is tough enough to survive,” Kaiming managed, finally unable to withstand the pummeling. Damn it, the meal she’d just swallowed was about to come up. She pried Chunhua’s iron grip off and shoved her two steps away, exasperated. “If you keep shaking me, you’ll be the one to finish me off!”

Chunhua realized she’d been too rough and gave an embarrassed laugh. “What can I say? I was just so happy to see you!”

Kaiming looked helplessly at her, rubbing her sore arms, unsure what to feel. Unexpectedly, the one who cared most about her was Chunhua—her former rival, sworn enemy, and, just recently, the fake husband she’d waved goodbye to.

“Kaiming!”

“Kaiming!”

Two voices chimed in unison, clear and lively. Kaiming couldn’t help but notice Chunhua’s eternal companions, Xiacao and Qiuju, lumbering toward them in the afternoon sun.

If it had been two slender beauties running toward her, their beaming smiles would have made a lovely picture, but these protagonists were quite the opposite, enough to make anyone lose their appetite.

Kaiming feigned a discreet retch, quickly composing herself as they bounded up to her.

“We waited for ages at the side and back gates, but who would’ve thought you’d come out the main entrance,” the duo said, gazing adoringly at Chunhua. “Sister Chunhua, you’re always so farsighted!”

Chunhua accepted the blatant flattery without a hint of modesty, lifting her chin in pride. Kaiming was reminded of a humorous play she’d once seen, where the comedian Stephen Chou shone a flashlight on someone’s face and the person, with a melodramatic toss of the head, declared, “I am Ximen Chuixue,” in a scene so comically nauseating it became a classic. Chunhua’s gesture now was eerily reminiscent of that moment, and Kaiming nearly burst out laughing.

“How could Kaiming sneak out the back gate?” Chunhua said ingratiatingly. “Besides, she’s a commander now—even General Dayin respects her.”

Kaiming frowned; this sounded strange, as if Chunhua thought she’d become a prime minister rather than a commander. And how did Chunhua know about her promotion?

Chunhua caught her puzzled look and slapped her back heartily, laughing. “The Emperor himself has issued an edict across the land: Kaiming is to be promoted to commander for her meritorious service in protecting her mistress, to serve as a model for others!”

A model, indeed! Kaiming couldn’t help but secretly smile at that.

Chunhua glanced at the general’s gate, caught the eye of a guard, and lowered her voice. “Be honest, when did you get so close with General Dayin? She’s a hero to us commoners!”

Kaiming only grinned, not answering.

Chunhua pounded her back so vigorously she nearly sustained internal injuries. “You really are lucky! Sent to war and you still survived and came back with a promotion. If you get any good assignments, don’t forget your sisters!”

Kaiming mumbled her agreement, hoping to escape Chunhua’s clutches.

But Chunhua refused to let go, pulling her in and laughing heartily. “Since we’re all together, let’s go have a drink to celebrate!”

Wine? Kaiming’s eyes sparkled. In that instant, Chunhua seemed utterly adorable. “Really? There’s wine?”

“As much as you want!” Chunhua replied mischievously.

“Great!” Kaiming agreed eagerly, turning to the soldier behind her. “You don’t need to follow—I’m just going out with my friends for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

The soldier nodded, relaying the general’s message: she was free to go.

“Chunhua, you’ve got followers already?” The two companions looked at her with envy and jealousy, making Kaiming want to laugh.

It seemed Chunhua hadn’t been idle during Kaiming’s absence. She pointed out taverns and restaurants with such familiarity that Kaiming was amazed.

The capital’s bustling streets were as lively as ever, throngs of people shoulder to shoulder. But with Chunhua and her companions, a small space seemed to open up around them, and they moved briskly through the crowd without mishap.

Kaiming looked around eagerly, wishing she had more eyes to take everything in. Only today did she truly feel the joy of strolling with friends—before, it had always been tense or in darkness, never so relaxing.

She mused to herself: every emperor is judged by whether his people live in peace and prosperity. The capital’s thriving bustle suggested that the Heavenly Jue Emperor was no fool. If Dayin and the emperor were to be paired, they’d make a fine couple.

Lost in thought, she was pulled back by Chunhua’s booming voice, loud enough to rise above even the noisy streets. “We’re here!”

Kaiming looked up at the fluttering sign, bearing a large, worm-like character she didn’t recognize, though the calligraphy was bold and strong.

The four of them pressed forward, squeezing through the crowd. Judging by the number of carriages and horses outside, this must be a well-established place, its entrance completely blocked.

The duo didn’t hesitate, sweeping aside anything in their way—horses, rickshaws, scrawny servants, burly attendants, even delicate young ladies—as if clearing the bases in a baseball game, effortless and direct.

Kaiming quickly seized Chunhua’s arm before she could send anyone else flying. “Enough, enough!” she cried, worried they’d cause real harm.

Chunhua looked at her in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s enough,” Kaiming replied, swallowing hard.

Chunhua eyed the still-blocked doorway and shook her head. “We’ll have to clear out a few more people to get through.”

Resigned, Kaiming let go, watching helplessly as the mayhem continued.

Shouts, curses, and angry protests filled the air. Kaiming could only cover her ears and keep her distance, ready to dissociate herself from these dangerous companions if trouble arose.

The commotion wasn’t over when a surge of activity broke out across the street. Even louder screams erupted as the crowd parted like bowling pins struck by a ball, people toppling to both sides.

A narrow path appeared in the chaos, and a figure darted through—too fast to see clearly, yet somehow familiar.

Intrigued, Kaiming dropped her hands and ran forward, trying to get a closer look, but the person vanished into the frightened throng in a flash.

What happened next was even more astonishing—a long procession followed, each dressed differently, all strangers. Every one of them wore a look of urgency, as if facing disaster.

As they emerged, the crowd receded three feet, as if the tide was going out.

“Where is he? Where did he go?”

“He got away!”

With low-voiced murmurs, the group parted to let a young man in plain clothes through. They bowed slightly, bending their ears to his orders.

The young man’s thick brows drew tighter. Suddenly, he raised his hand and slapped the messenger’s face with a crisp sound. The man took the blow without flinching, his face unchanged—only his head hung lower.