Transmigrated Into A Novel As A Scumbag Princess’ Consort - Chapter 58

58:

Shiniang could tell that Princess Yi in the southwest was a close ally of the Princess. If a rebellion were to start, the southwest’s open plains were far better suited as a base than the remote southern border, separated by vast mountains with only one convenient route—through the southwest.

If that day came, for convenience, they’d likely pass through the southwest anyway.

Shiniang couldn’t understand why they’d bother making the arduous trip to the southern border.

Ye Xuejin gazed at the stretching mountains, saying slowly, “We must go to the southern border.”

Yun Chi, hearing this, silently thought, Probably not.

Once exonerated, even if Ye Xuejin didn’t return to the capital, there’d be no need to go to the southern border. She could head straight to the southwest, where Princess Yi and the Caozhou Army were, perfect for starting a rebellion.

But that had little to do with Yun Chi. In three days, she could retire successfully, alive.

After the divorce, they’d go their separate ways, no one dragging her down.

Seeing Ye Xuejin unwilling to elaborate, Shiniang tactfully dropped it, returning to the girls and resuming training with Shi Song and the others—horse stances and sparring.

The others glanced at Ye Xuejin.

The women were training so diligently, Her Highness’ orders, right? What about them?

Yu Lu thought briefly, waving to Xiao Gao and the other officers: “While it’s still light, let’s practice some moves.”

Seeing the officers start, the Zhou family couldn’t sit still.

Zhou Qiyue, already eager to learn, couldn’t hold back: “Big brother, look at them. We can’t just sit here. If we wait until the southern border to start, we’ll be left far behind.”

Zhou Qishan, stirred, looked at Old Censor Zhou: “Father, what do you think?”

Old Censor Zhou, reflecting on his actions, had been subdued all day.

He waved: “Go, all of you.”

He was old, had taken the wrong path—best not to drag the young ones down.

Soon, dust rose around the fires, shouts filling the air.

Yun Chi quietly stood, pulling Ye Xuejin’s hand to move away. They marched daily; bathing was a luxury, better not get covered in dust.

They also discussed managing the storage space’s supplies.

After tonight, only three days remained until exoneration. The items in her storage were valuable to Ye Xuejin.

As for herself… Yun Chi glanced at Ye Xuejin. She could leave everything behind; a few tens of thousands of taels of gold would suffice.

“Does the Consort have something to say?” Ye Xuejin turned her head.

Yun Chi spoke directly: “I want to discuss something. When I leave, I’ll leave everything to you. You should pick reliable people to manage them.”

Ye Xuejin froze, as if caught off guard.

She pursed her lips, replying softly after a long pause: “I will arrange it.”

Reliable people, who in this convoy is more reliable than her divine being?

Yet her divine being thought daily of leaving her…

After this, Yun Chi asked, “How about rice for tonight? Anything you want to eat or need?”

The thirty rice packs, all one-for-one exchanges, had already passed through Ye Xuejin’s hands, so no more rewards.

But thanks to the corn and pork rib soup, many items in her storage hadn’t yet passed through Ye Xuejin’s hands.

With their parting nearing, Yun Chi wanted to leave as many trump cards as possible for Ye Xuejin in these final three days.

After that, across mountains and rivers, their fates would depend on their own abilities.

Ye Xuejin lowered her eyes. What did she need…

She clenched her fingers slightly, smiling faintly: “The Consort has helped me greatly. I don’t need anything.”

Yun Chi sighed inwardly. To remain ungreedy in such circumstances was admirable.

Her heart softened, her tone gentling: “Think about it. What do you urgently need? Better safe than sorry.”

This way, they could part amicably.

Ye Xuejin shook her head, her faint smile lingering: “Fine, I’ll tell the Consort if I think of anything. Rest for now; I need to discuss something with Shiniang.”

She let go of Yun Chi’s hand.

Turning away, her faint smile vanished silently.

Ye Xuejin closed her eyes briefly, walking toward Shiniang with a calm expression.

“Your Highness.” Shiniang, seeing her approach, stepped forward, ready for orders.

Ye Xuejin glanced at the fervent training, signaling Shiniang to step aside: “Tomorrow when we enter the southern border. Tell everyone to be cautious. Later, you should…”

Shiniang nodded repeatedly: “Understood.”

Ye Xuejin returned to Yun Chi: “Consort, later, help me take out six bulletproof vests.”

Shiniang had already brought the girls over.

Yun Chi wouldn’t refuse, mentally praising Ye Xuejin. In such a short time, she’d arranged six vests—such efficiency.

The girls followed Shiniang expectantly, trailing Ye Xuejin and Yun Chi.

They didn’t know what was happening, only that Her Highness had orders.

Whatever it was, if Her Highness entrusted them, it was important.

It meant she trusted them, recognized their abilities.

They’d give their lives to do it well.

But to their surprise, Her Highness didn’t give orders, she handed each a strange garment to wear.

Ye Xuejin’s lips curved slightly, her voice calm and gentle: “These are immortal-granted clothes, resistant to ordinary blades, especially arrows from afar, nearly ensuring no harm. You’re my most trusted people. I don’t want any of you to get hurt. Wear them.”

Shiniang took a vest, marveling: “So miraculous!”

Mei and Ju exchanged a glance, their eyes more resolute. They’d never complain of fatigue, training harder to never disgrace Her Highness.

Zhu lowered her gaze to her vest, tears faintly welling. She’d never betray Her Highness’ trust.

Shi Lan sniffled, kneeling: “I’m useless, Your Highness. Please take back this divine garment and give it to someone more worthy.”

Among the six, she was the weakest, legs trembling after half a moment’s horse stance.

She suddenly hated herself, why had she only held pens and books before…

“Stand and speak,” Ye Xuejin said, recalling Shiniang’s words. Shi Lan, a scholar’s daughter, well-read, reserved, and meticulous.

“Shi Lan, don’t force yourself to train in martial arts. When free, study military strategy. Our paths aren’t identical. Find what suits you to walk smoothly.”

“Your Highness…” Lan understood, feeling ashamed.

She’d read so much, yet hadn’t considered using her mind beyond martial skills.

Shi Song was straightforward, already wearing her vest, not rushing to put on her prisoner’s clothes. Excitedly, she turned to Shiniang: “Sister Shiniang, stab me with your knife.”

The other girls: “…” Truly the boldest among them.

Shi Song’s interruption lightened the mood, some eager to try.

Shiniang looked at Ye Xuejin: Really stab?

“It’s fine to test,” Ye Xuejin nodded, trusting Yun Chi’s judgment.

Shiniang drew her knife, cautiously thrusting at Shi Song’s vest.

“Be quick,” Yun Chi said, recalling the vests’ properties.

These hard vests could block cold weapons, but slow, deliberate cuts might pierce them.

Fast projectiles like arrows were better stopped.

“Listen to the Consort,” Ye Xuejin echoed.

Shiniang gritted her teeth, thrusting quickly at Shi Song’s abdomen.

Shi Song didn’t dodge, boldly taking the strike.

“Ah!”

“Shi Song!”

Seeing her clutch her stomach and bend, the others panicked.

“I’m fine, just a brief pain, no injury,” Shi Song said, straightening. Shiniang’s force was strong.

She was unharmed; bending was instinctive. Touching the spot, she found no damage—no cuts, just momentary pain from the impact.

“You scared me!” Shiniang rolled her eyes, nearly kneeling. If Shi Song were hurt, she’d have cried.

The girls examined Shi Song’s vest, finding no damage, and quickly put theirs on.

Wearing them, they felt boundless confidence, taking turns asking Shiniang to stab them, wanting to feel invulnerable.

Yun Chi, speechless, pulled Ye Xuejin’s hand, saying gravely, “In three words, what do you call this?”

Ye Xuejin smiled, in sync: “Fearless of death.”

Yun Chi laughed, handing Ye Xuejin another vest while wishing for a copy of The Art of War.

For the six vests, she’d wished for compressed biscuits.

Yu Lu had said the exile destination was six or seven days away.

But in three days, she’d leave.

If the convoy faced another stretch of wilderness with no settlements, what then?

So she’d stocked various flavors of compressed biscuits.

She gave Ye Xuejin this vest because of her words, since Shi Lan suited military strategy, The Art of War would help.

Ye Xuejin looked puzzled: “What’s this, Consort?”

“I’ll wear this one. Take this.” Yun Chi handed over the vest, passing The Art of War, wishing for onion-flavored biscuits.

Since everyone wore vests, she’d look out of place without one.

Mainly, she wanted to feel a knife strike without fear.

Yun Chi quickly donned her vest, tossed her prisoner’s clothes over Ye Xuejin’s arm, and rushed to Shiniang, mid-stabbing spree.

“Shiniang, give me a stab too.”

Ye Xuejin: “…” Another fearless one.