[Water Margin] Hu Sanniang with her delicate hands - Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The training ground was located on the north side of the Hù Family Village, a wide area made of tamped yellow earth and enclosed by a wooden fence. By now, the morning sun had fully cleared the horizon, its golden light generously showering the weapon racks, archery targets, and the figures of the men currently drilling, stretching their shadows long.

The air was filled with dust, sweat, and a coarse scent of martial strength and order. Shouts, the sound of weapons slicing the air, and the stamping of feet blended into a rhythm of robust power.

Hù Sānniáng’s arrival did not cause much disruption. The manor guards were long accustomed to their high-skilled, yet somewhat aloof, young mistress often visiting the training grounds. They merely toned down their clamor slightly, put a little more effort into their movements, but couldn’t help stealing glances at her slender yet upright figure.

The head instructor responsible for daily drills, a middle-aged man named Chén, with a dark complexion and a stout build, quickly came forward. He cupped his fist in salute, his tone respectful but carrying a barely perceptible distance: “Mistress Sānniáng, you are early today.”

Hù Sānniáng slightly nodded, her gaze, like an autumn cold pool, swept across the entire training ground. She saw that the guards were practicing mostly basic spear and staff routines, with relatively simple formation changes. This might suffice against ordinary thieves, but against the seasoned, ruthless leaders of Liangshan Marsh…

“Instructor Chén,” she spoke, her voice clear and carrying, not loud, but distinctly overriding the noise in the field. “Rumors have been circulating in the village that the Liangshan bandits are growing in power and may attempt an invasion. I observe the guards’ drills are diligent enough, but their adaptability in the face of the enemy seems lacking.”

Instructor Chén’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He had been dedicated to martial arts and drilling the guards for many years, following his own set of rules. To be publicly questioned by a young girl naturally caused him some displeasure. However, he was well aware of the mistress’s importance to the Master and her martial skills, which even Luán Tíngyù, the top instructor of the Zhù Family Village, had praised. He suppressed his temper and asked, “What insights does Mistress Sānniáng have?”

“I dare not call them insights.” Hù Sānniáng walked calmly toward the weapon rack, her slender fingers tracing the cold metal of a weapon. “I merely feel that the drills should be closer to actual combat. For example, we could add two groups of men: one impersonating attacking bandits, and one defending manor guards, simulating offense and defense. The ‘bandit’ side should be allowed to use all means—climbing, setting fire, feigned surrender; the ‘defenders’ must react spontaneously and coordinate their defense. Only in this way can we truly increase combat effectiveness, rather than just talking about it.”

She casually picked up a white waxwood spear and tested its weight in her hand. The body’s muscle memory instantly awoke, and a sense of effortless familiarity welled up. She flicked her wrist, the spear tip drawing a bowl-sized flower in the air with a sharp, piercing sound.

Before Instructor Chén could reply, a low murmur of slight dissent came from the ranks: “Easy to say… Real fighting isn’t something you can learn from drilling…” The voice was low, but in the slightly hushed moment, it was distinctly clear.

All eyes turned to a tall, strong young guard with a scarred face, named Shí Yǒng, who was known for his somewhat unruly temper.

Instructor Chén’s face darkened, and he was about to reprimand him, but Hù Sānniáng waved him off. She looked calmly at Shí Yǒng: “This brother is right. The mindset in a life-and-death fight is naturally different from a drill.”

Her tone shifted, still calm, but imbued with an undeniable sharpness: “But if you are timid and stick to the rules even in a drill, when the blade is upon you, you may not be able to use even thirty percent of what you have learned. At that time, it will be you who dies, and the parents, wives, and children you were supposed to protect.”

Her words were like ice picks, thrusting into the hearts of every guard, causing many of them to look solemn.

Shí Yǒng’s face flushed. He craned his neck and said, “Mistress Sānniáng’s martial skills are superb, so naturally, what you say is reasonable! But we clumsy fellows, how can we understand such complexities!”

Hù Sānniáng looked at him, then suddenly drove the spear she held into the ground with a dull thump. “If you don’t understand, you can learn. The fear is of those who dare not learn, who refuse to change.” Her gaze swept the entire field. “The Hù Family Village raises soldiers for a thousand days to use them for one hour. If bandits truly attack, do you wish to be slaughtered lambs, or ferocious tigers that drive the enemy back?”

The field fell silent, with only the sound of the wind snapping the banners.

Hù Sānniáng said no more. She knew that changing entrenched ideas was not a task for a single day. She turned to Instructor Chén: “Instructor Chén, starting tomorrow, slightly adjust the drill content. Dedicate one hour each day to the offensive and defensive practice I just described. I will discuss the specific details with you later. If anyone disobeys orders or is caught slacking,” she paused, her voice turning cold, “they will be punished severely according to village rules.”

Her words naturally carried the authority of a superior, a blend of her modern soul’s perspective and the inherent aura of “One-Foot-of-Striped-Snake.” Although Instructor Chén still had doubts, under this imposing presence, he found himself unable to argue and could only cup his fist and respond, “Yes, I shall comply with Mistress Sānniáng’s command.”

Hù Sānniáng nodded and didn’t linger, turning to leave the training ground. She knew this was only the first, and easiest, step. The real difficulty lay in convincing her father and the elders to invest more resources in substantial war preparations, and… how to deal with the impending giant beast called “Liangshan.”

The following days were exceptionally busy for Hù Sānniáng.

During the day, besides rigidly supervising the new drills at the training ground, she took Qiū Yàn with her, under the pretext of “inspecting estate affairs and familiarizing herself with the property,” to visit every corner of the Hù Family Village. She carefully examined every section of the village wall, noting which parts needed reinforcement and which embrasures had poor visibility; she secretly observed the guard posts at the granary and wells, and indeed found some loopholes; she even excused herself for a horse ride to relax, surveying the dense forest outside the village in person, mentally plotting the best locations for traps and hidden sentries.

She was like a student facing a major exam, frantically absorbing all possible information related to “survival.”

And the nights were her time to confront her inner anxiety and plan for the future alone.

In the study, the candlelight flickered. Hù Sānniáng dismissed Qiū Yàn and sat alone behind the desk. On the desk lay several rough defense maps of the village she had drawn herself, marked with detailed symbols and notes that only she could understand.

She rubbed her throbbing forehead, forcing herself to analyze calmly.

Known Threat: Liangshan Marsh. Key Figures: Sòng Jiāng, Wú Yòng. Goal: Annex the three villages, obtain wealth and grain, establish prestige. Timing: Uncertain, but likely after the conflict between the Zhù Family Village and Liangshan fully escalates.

Her Advantages: Her knowledge of the plot (at least most of it); Hù Sānniáng’s martial skills; the Hù Family Village’s financial and material resources; and… her soul from the information age, with a different way of thinking.

Her Disadvantages: The huge gap in absolute military power; her father’s and the elders’ underestimation and wishful thinking; the internal cracks in the Three Villages Alliance (especially Zhù Biāo’s arrogance); and that damned, seemingly unchangeable “plot inertia.”

She picked up her brush and wrote two words on the paper: “Avoid” and “Fight.”

Avoid? Fleeing with her family beforehand? Not only would her father never agree to abandon the ancestral estate, but in this chaotic world, without the manor’s protection, where could her large family escape to? They would probably die faster. This path was difficult.

Fight? Directly confronting Liangshan? That would be like throwing an egg against a rock. Even if she could win one or two minor victories with foreknowledge, she would fundamentally be unable to change the overall outcome. The end would still be ruin and death.

So, only one path remained—”Skillful Fighting” and “Survival Strategy.”

Her gaze fixed on “Skillful Fighting.” If she couldn’t win with brute force, she needed wits. Her goal was not to defeat Liangshan—that was unrealistic. Her goal was to maximize the Hù Family Village’s chances of survival in this disaster, to save as many clansmen as possible, and to secure… a possibility different from the original ending for herself.

For instance, when Liangshan breaks the Zhù Family Village and their forces are aimed directly at Hù Family Village, can she demonstrate enough resistance and strength to make Sòng Jiāng feel the cost of a full assault is too high? Can she somehow reach a less humiliating “agreement” with Liangshan? Or, in the worst-case scenario, can she plan a secret escape route for herself and some core clansmen?

Her fingers tapped unconsciously on the desk. Countless ideas flashed through her mind: Scheme of Alienation? Delaying Tactic? Secret Communication? Feigned Surrender? Every idea was fraught with immense risk and uncertainty.

And that Wáng Yīng… The thought of the name brought a wave of physical revulsion. She had to completely eliminate that possibility! If she ultimately couldn’t avoid the fate of being captured and taken to Liangshan, she must, before going up, create a situation of “rather be broken jade than intact tile,” or… find a reason strong and reasonable enough that Sòng Jiāng would be unable, and unwilling, to marry her off to Wáng Yīng.

What reason? A hidden illness? A prior love interest? Or… demonstrating a value or threat that Sòng Jiāng would have no choice but to fear?

Her thoughts were tangled like hemp.

She pushed open the window. The night wind rushed in with the chill of late autumn, making the papers on the desk rustle. The night sky was deep, dotted with stars, eternally looking down upon human joys and sorrows.

A vast sense of loneliness enveloped her. There was no one to confide in, no one to rely on. All the pressure, fear, and planning had to be shouldered by her alone.

She looked down again at her hands. In the candlelight, these jade hands appeared even whiter and more slender, as if they were most suited for playing the zither and painting, not holding a sword and staining themselves with bl00d.

Yet, fate had given her no choice.

She slowly clenched her fists, feeling the slight pain of her fingertips digging into her palms. This pain made her more sober.

“No matter what, I will not sit and wait for death,” she silently vowed to the cold night sky. “Hù Sānniáng’s fate shall be written by myself.”

She returned to the desk, blew out the candle, and concealed herself in the dense darkness. Only her eyes, shining with a firm and cold light in the dark, remained, like the brightest stars in the night, guiding her difficult journey on this unknown path full of thorns.