Transmigrated as a Cannon Fodder Wife A in Ancient Times - Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Chen Zhou took several deep breaths to restrain himself. He glared at the shopkeeper and asked, “Don’t we have even one or two good-looking authors among those writing storybooks?”

The shopkeeper shook his head awkwardly. “I’ve seen them all. Most are average-looking. Liu Wenyuan is already the best among them.”

Chen Zhou gasped. Liu Wenyuan, merely decent-looking, was the top? He could roughly guess the level of the others’ appearances.

He pinched his brow and said, “Are any of them willing to sell their storybooks outright? Sell them to us without their names, of course, with extra payment.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up. “Young Master, that’s a brilliant move.”

The shopkeeper gave Chen Zhou a thumbs-up. Chen Zhou proudly raised his head.

If Wei Lan could hold a signing, so could he. It was just about looks, right? His face wasn’t bad either.

Many authors were scholars writing storybooks to make a living, aiming for the imperial exams, which were costly in ancient times. After Chen Zhou had the shopkeeper inquire, many were willing to forgo their bylines for double the usual price.

Thus, Chen Zhou bought the rights to two sets of books. He spread word that he would hold a signing in five days, hiring a team of scribes, spending a hefty sum.

The news soon reached Wei Lan. She only regained some energy in the afternoon. Last night’s play with her wife was too intense, draining her scent, so she wasn’t less sleepy until nearly lunch.

She stretched, planning to nap on the soft couch, when a voice announced from outside.

“Master, someone from the bookshop has something to report,” Nanny Li’s voice sounded.

Wei Lan paused. She didn’t handle business matters, so why come to her? “Let him in.”

With business to discuss, Wei Lan didn’t lie on the couch but sat at the round table, waiting for the bookshop’s person.

The person entered the bedroom, bowed respectfully to Wei Lan, and said, “Master, the Chen Mansion likely heard about our signing. They held one today, but it wasn’t successful. Few bought their storybooks. However, Chen Zhou said he’ll hold a signing at Chen’s Bookshop’s main branch in five days, selling storybooks he wrote himself.”

“Chen Zhou? That’s interesting,” Wei Lan said with a smile. She thought for a moment and understood. Someone as arrogant as Chen Zhou wouldn’t stoop to write storybooks. Likely, he hired a ghostwriter and put his name on it, a common practice.

Wei Lan wasn’t afraid. If Chen Zhou wanted to compete, she was ready to outdo him and make him furious.

She calmly sipped honey tea and said, “No matter. Tell your shopkeeper to urge the printers to produce more books. In five days, I’ll hold a second signing at the Lu Family Bookshop’s main branch, with a small surprise for everyone.”

“Yes, Master. Your words give us confidence,” the clerk said with a smile.

“Hmm, go. Just print more storybooks. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Yes, I’ll tell them,” the clerk said, bowing again before leaving.

Wei Lan sipped more tea, then lounged on the soft couch. Last time, she gave bookmarks. What to give this time?

After thinking, she decided to make a big cream cake. She had made one in modern times; it wasn’t complex, and ancients hadn’t seen it. She thought the girls at the signing would love it. With a plan, she rested leisurely on the couch.

Meanwhile, Lu Zijin had just finished her work. Her thoughts drifted to her cousin Fan Chuan, now in the capital. She wondered how her sister was doing there. Panyang City was far from the capital, so news wouldn’t come quickly.

Lu Zijin worried about Fan Chuan’s situation in the capital but couldn’t help her.

She sighed and asked Qianxue, standing by, “What did the master do today?”

“The master got up at noon. The guards at her courtyard said she bathed, ate lunch, then slept until dinner,” Qianxue replied.

Lu Zijin chuckled and shook her head. Her little Qianyuan’s stamina was average. Last night, she drained her scent, so no wonder she slept all day.

Thinking of Wei Lan made her happy, but she was tired today and concerned about Fan Chuan, so she didn’t feel like visiting. She instructed Qianxue, “Pick some fine ginseng and bird’s nest from my stores to send to the master. Her frail body needs nourishment. Have her courtyard’s cook make these daily to strengthen her.”

“Yes,” Qianxue replied, heading to the storeroom with others to select ginseng and bird’s nest.

Wei Lan ate dinner, finding the bedroom too warm. She had ice cream made and ate a bowl. Then, Qianxue arrived with a group of maids.

The maids bowed to Wei Lan. Qianxue said, “The miss sent these supplements for you. She said to nourish your body well.”

Wei Lan’s ear tips reddened. Her body was fine, wasn’t it? She was a strong Qianyuan. Last night, her Madam drained her scent, causing her weakness. Normally, she had plenty of strength.

“My body’s fine,” Wei Lan muttered softly.

Qianxue stifled a laugh, saying seriously, “The master is right. But eating more supplements can’t hurt. I’ll have these stored in your courtyard’s warehouse. Take them when you want.”

“Hmm, alright,” Wei Lan said. Since her wife sent good things, she wouldn’t refuse.

She looked at Qianxue and asked, “Was Madam very busy today?”

“She was busy, just finished, and is probably about to sleep,” Qianxue replied.

Wei Lan nodded. “Got it. You can go.”

“Yes, Master,” the maids said, withdrawing. Wei Lan prepared to rest. She noticed her contract point, played flat, needed a day or two to recover strength. She thought another sleep would give her energy to carve jade tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Fan Chuan had just reached the capital. Travel was slow with thousands of troops.

Upon arriving, she had her soldiers camp on the capital’s outskirts. Meeting the emperor required leaving the troops behind.

She entered the capital with eighteen personal guards. The Fan family had a Marshal’s Mansion there, but stationed in the Northern Desert, they only stayed briefly during annual imperial visits. The mansion likely had spies, so she needed to be cautious.

At dusk, Fan Chuan and her entourage reached the Marshal’s Mansion, drawing attention from all sides.

In the palace, the old emperor Zhou Nanfeng lay on his sickbed, recovering from a serious illness. A trusted eunuch soon reported to his bedroom.

“Your Majesty, Marshal Fan has entered the capital with over a dozen guards,” the head eunuch said respectfully.

“Is that so? Cough, good, good,” Zhou Nanfeng said, a glint in his cloudy eyes. Fan Chuan’s three-year mourning period was over, and at twenty-one, she had no excuse to delay marriage.

Zhou Nanfeng sighed, his body leaking air like bellows, but he couldn’t die. His ambitious sons likely wished him dead. Generals like Fan Chuan, with great achievements, were problematic. The Great Zhou seemed prosperous but was shaky, with multiple rebellions this year alone, requiring military suppression.

The Xiongnu in the north were a constant threat. Without the Fan family army guarding the border, the Great Zhou would have fallen. Handling Fan Chuan was tricky. If mishandled, the northern border could collapse. Zhou Nanfeng needed to stabilize her and place his people around her.

He had a candidate in mind.

The princes—Crown Prince Zhou Xiao, Third Prince Zhou Ji, Fifth Prince Zhou Xun, and Ninth Prince Zhou Yang—received news of Fan Chuan’s return. They sent invitations to the Marshal’s Mansion, but Fan Chuan declined them all.

With the tense situation, meeting any prince privately could align her with a faction. For now, she avoided everyone, waiting to meet the emperor tomorrow and request a swift return to the north for military duties.

Fan Chuan barely slept, thinking about the capital’s complexities and Wei Lan’s earlier words. Now in the capital, her thoughts leaned toward Wei Lan’s advice.

Rather than annual fear, she might as well resolve the issue. But she needed to return to the north soon to plan.

Early the next day, Fan Chuan donned armor, rode a jujube-red horse, and headed to the palace with her entourage.

Pedestrians and carriages on the street made way. In one carriage, a Kunze with her face veiled in white gauze rested with closed eyes. Feeling the carriage stop, her clear eyes opened slightly. “What happened?”

“Miss, Marshal Fan is back. She’s likely heading to the palace,” the maid replied.

The woman closed her eyes and nodded faintly. “Hmm, let’s wait then.”

“Yes, Miss,” the maid, Xiao Tao, replied, minimizing her presence to avoid disturbing her miss.

Soon, the carriage moved again, stopping at a bookshop.

The Kunze entered the bookshop. The shopkeeper, seeing her, bowed immediately. “Miss Shen, welcome. We’ve copied many new books recently. Feel free to browse.”

The woman nodded faintly and walked to the bookshelves, casually flipping through books.

She was Shen Lingwei, the prime minister’s daughter, a renowned talent in the capital, reputedly stunning, possibly the city’s most beautiful. At eighteen, she remained unmarried.

Rumors said several princes were interested, but Prime Minister Shen Fangzhou hadn’t agreed, keeping her single.

Meanwhile, Fan Chuan, on horseback, reached the Imperial Street. At the palace gate, she and her guards dismounted, handed their horses to the palace staff, surrendered their weapons, and entered.

They headed to the Xuanyuan Hall, where grand court sessions were held, but Fan Chuan had to wait to be summoned.

Soon, someone announced her entry to the hall.

Fan Chuan adjusted her armor and strode confidently to the hall.

She knelt and bowed to Zhou Nanfeng. He coughed and said, “My dear minister, rise. My body is failing, but young talents like you are in your prime.”

“I dare not. Your Majesty is vigorous and in your prime. We cannot compare,” Fan Chuan said cautiously.

Zhou Nanfeng laughed heartily and said, “I called you back to report on your duties and discuss your marriage. The Fan family is loyal, but with your elders gone, I am your elder. At twenty-one, with the mourning period over, your marriage can’t be delayed.”

“I defer to Your Majesty’s decision. But the northern border sees frequent battles. I can’t stay long in the capital, lest I wrong my future spouse,” Fan Chuan said respectfully.

“You are a pillar of the state. Your future wife will understand. Given the northern conflicts, the wedding will be simple, within this month.”

The old emperor smiled at Fan Chuan and continued, “Marshal Fan, receive the decree.”

“Yes,” Fan Chuan knelt again, preparing to accept. Her face was calm, but her heart roiled, wondering who the emperor would place by her side.

“Marshal Fan Chuan of the Northern Army, for your merits in guarding the north, I betroth Prime Minister Shen’s eldest daughter, Shen Lingwei, to you. If I recall, she’s eighteen, and it can’t be delayed,” Zhou Nanfeng said, smiling at Shen Fangzhou.

Shen Fangzhou nearly couldn’t smile. He thought his daughter would marry a future emperor, but now, publicly betrothed to Fan Chuan, he could only grit his teeth.

Meanwhile, in the court, Crown Prince Zhou Xiao, Third Prince Zhou Ji, Fifth Prince Zhou Xun, and Ninth Prince Zhou Yang’s faces darkened. All four fancied Shen Lingwei, yet their father betrothed her to Fan Chuan.

The emperor had his plan. Since his sons liked Shen Lingwei, betrothing her to Fan Chuan would make them resent her, preventing Fan Chuan from supporting any faction. It also made it easier to place his people near Fan Chuan through Shen Fangzhou.

Being an emperor was contradictory—fearing useless heirs yet wary of overly capable ones, requiring balance. This was his way.

“Marshal Fan, accept the decree,” Zhou Nanfeng said, smiling without warmth.

Fan Chuan kowtowed and said, “I thank Your Majesty’s great favor.”

Zhou Xiao clenched his fists, itching to confront Fan Chuan. He wanted Shen Lingwei as his crown princess, but now it was ruined.

The other princes looked grim. The court fell eerily silent until the emperor broke it. “Marshal Fan, you’ve worked hard in the north. Leave the wedding to the Ministry of Rites. When the time comes, just receive your bride.”

“I thank Your Majesty’s kindness,” Fan Chuan said, thanking him again.

After court, Fan Chuan hurried back to the mansion. She sent her guard Yun Heng to the palace to find Eunuch Liu, giving him five thousand taels in silver notes to speak favorably to the emperor for an early return.

Eunuch Liu, the emperor’s trusted chief eunuch, was greedy and loved stirring court intrigues. He wasn’t a good person, but with enough silver, anything was negotiable.

Knowing the Fan family’s loyalty, he saw no issue helping, as rebellion was unthinkable for them. The emperor was overcautious.

Sipping tea at his desk, he smiled and agreed. “What’s the big deal? Marshal Fan cares about northern affairs. I’ll find a chance to speak well to His Majesty.”

“Thank you, Eunuch,” Yun Heng said, bowing. Eunuch Liu’s smile widened. Even high officials bowed respectfully to him. Fan Chuan, a martial general, had disciplined retainers, pleasing him.

Yun Heng returned to the Marshal’s Mansion.

Fan Chuan, seeing her return, asked, “How did it go?”

“Eunuch Liu took the silver notes and seemed in a good mood,” Yun Heng replied.

Fan Chuan nodded. It was all she could do. Feeling like prey on a chopping block was uncomfortable. Perhaps she should follow Wei Lan’s advice and prepare early.

“Marshal, I heard your future wife is the capital’s top beauty and a talent. You’re not losing out,” Yun Heng said.

“Hmph, just a pawn the emperor placed by my side. It doesn’t matter who. I won’t trust her. Our priority is leaving the capital soon,” Fan Chuan sighed. She’d heard about Shen Lingwei, desired by the princes. The emperor’s move created a rift between her and them.

“True. I’ll leave. Rest early,” Yun Heng said, bowing and exiting.

They spoke openly because the courtyard was guarded by Fan Chuan’s trusted northern retainers.

Fan Chuan sighed. The capital was tough; even speaking required caution for eavesdroppers.

Meanwhile, in the Prime Minister’s Mansion, Xiao Tao rushed in, panicked. “Miss, bad news.”

Shen Lingwei’s brow furrowed slightly. “What is it?”

“The emperor betrothed you. What do we do, Miss?” Xiao Tao nearly cried. Fan Chuan, a rough soldier, how could she care for her miss?

Shen Lingwei took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened them with clarity. “Who did His Majesty betroth me to?”

“His Majesty betrothed you to Marshal Fan, the one guarding the north,” Xiao Tao said, nearly crying. The north was dangerous. If Fan Chuan died early, what would her miss do?

Shen Lingwei exhaled in relief. To her, marrying anyone was the same. Rather than a royal marriage mired in filth, marrying Fan Chuan and leaving the capital might let her live freely. But the emperor’s intent wasn’t simple—likely to have her spy on Fan Chuan.

She sighed. Fan Chuan likely knew, so she wouldn’t trust her, nor share her heart. That was fine; they could live separately, like well water and river water.

In a complex situation, Shen Lingwei only wanted a peaceful life. She sighed and said, “To me, marrying anyone makes no difference. It’s just a transaction.”

She spoke no more on it.

Later, Shen Fangzhou summoned his daughter. “Lingwei, sit.”

Shen Lingwei nodded to her father and sat upright on a chair, unmoving.

“I didn’t expect this. But His Majesty secretly summoned me later. He arranged your marriage to Fan Chuan to have you report her every move in the north to keep her in check. He’ll assign attendants to accompany you. Just report Fan Chuan’s actions truthfully. Your escorts will handle the rest,” Shen Fangzhou said.

Shen Lingwei nodded faintly. “I understand, Father. Anything else? If not, I’ll retire.”

Shen Fangzhou looked at his daughter, wanting to speak but stopping. He no longer understood her thoughts. “Lingwei, this wrongs you. If you have requests, I’ll try to compensate you.”

Shen Lingwei shook her head. “No need.”

She stood and left. Marrying anyone made no difference to her; none were her choice. Qianyuans were crude, driven by scent, like beasts. The thought repulsed her.

Marrying Fan Chuan might be slightly better. She loathed male Qianyuans more than female ones.

Shen Fangzhou sighed heavily. He increasingly couldn’t fathom his calm, emotionless daughter, who acted as if the betrothal wasn’t about her.