Zhao Chun kept her eyes fixed forward, walking behind the woman. The woman was in her early forties, with some white hairs at her temples. Seen from behind, her figure was thin, but her back was held ramrod straight, projecting an air of pride.
“We set out tomorrow. Have you packed everything?”
Zhao Chun knew the woman was speaking to her and answered, “Everything is ready.” After that, the woman said no more. The two walked to the room in silence.
Seeing the weary look on the woman's face, Zhao Chun tactfully took her leave, quickly making her way back to her own room. The woman was her mother in name, but not her Birth Mother. According to the customs of this world, she was to be called the Legal Mother.
Zhao Chun had originally been an ordinary person from the modern world. Her salary was decent enough, and she could go home to be with her parents and elders during the holidays. Perhaps her life had been too smooth, for after saving up enough for a down payment, she was diagnosed with Leukemia.
Her condition worsened too quickly, and before a matching Bone Marrow donor could be found, she breathed her last. Before her eyes closed for the last time, Zhao Chun had wondered if she would get to see if the Underworld truly had its Black and White Impermanence and Bull-Headed Horse-Faced Guardians.
In the end, she saw neither Yama nor any Underworld Minions. Instead, she opened her eyes to find she had become a baby who couldn't even speak. They called the woman who gave birth to her 'Madam Li'.
When she had grown to one year old, wobbling on her feet, Madam Li died of a sudden illness, and Zhao Chun went to live with a Wet Nurse. At first, she thought she had transmigrated into ancient times, but later she felt that wasn't right.
Although this place was divided into various warring states, it was neither the Spring and Autumn period nor the Five Dynasties. There were capable individuals who could shatter boulders with their strength, whom the world called Martial Warriors.
‘What a fantastical world this is,’ Zhao Chun thought.
When she grew a bit older, she developed her own assessment of these Martial Warriors. Their strength was greater than that of ordinary people, but they still had to learn how to wield blades and spears, otherwise their brute force would be difficult to channel.
However, as it was a time of chaos with constant disputes, Martial Warriors could profit from it, rising all the way to become nobles and high officials. Zhao Chun's father, Zhao Jian, came from a common background. Relying on his martial prowess, he was enfeoffed as a Grand Master, ruling over a prefecture.
Having tasted the sweetness of success, Zhao Jian naturally hoped his descendants would follow the path of martial arts. He had struggled for most of his life and had quite a few female companions, so naturally, he had many children.
Among them, a few martial arts geniuses had indeed emerged, and he had brought them to his side to be taught personally. As for Zhao Chun, she was not the material for a Martial Warrior. In fact, even with the martial-favoring atmosphere of the entire populace, women who practiced martial arts were a minority.
Among her many half-sisters, only one, Zhao Nian, was able to brandish spears and staffs with her brothers, which showed just how rare female martial artists were. The status of women in ancient times was inherently low. Most men had three wives and four concubines.
Furthermore, because this world revered martial strength, a great chasm existed between people. Zhao Jian had a flock of wives and concubines, but he was not a romantic or understanding man. Instead, he was vainglorious, impulsive, and quick to anger.
Among the women in his inner courtyard, it was common for those who displeased him to be beaten to death. Zhao Chun took this as a grave warning and didn't dare place her life in anyone else's hands in the slightest.
Even without a talent for martial arts, she forced herself to go to the Martial Training Ground to practice all year round, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, without a single break. The saber was too heavy, the spear too long, and she had no way to learn any unorthodox weapons.
There was a teaching master at the Martial Training Ground who taught Swordsmanship. Her surname was Zheng. She had fled from the State of Lü and happened to be a Female Swordswoman.
She saw Zhao Chun's diligence, knew that life was difficult for women, and was willing to teach her earnestly. From the age of six to ten, Zhao Chun was looked after by Master Zheng and could perform several complete sets of Swordsmanship.
It was just that her strength was lacking, so her Swordsmanship had form but no substance, making it difficult to reach a level where she could kill enemies on the battlefield. She could only persist in the long term, hoping it would be enough for self-preservation.
Last month, the Royal Capital issued a summons to the prefectures and counties under its jurisdiction, seeking children under the age of twelve and over the age of eight to be selected by the True Spirit Daoist Temple within the State of Chu.
Zhao Jian had his own children among them, and upon hearing the news, he flew into a rage.
“There are surely some good martial arts Seedlings among my children! If they are chosen by this so-called Daoist temple, what will the Zhao Family rely on to prosper?”
Madam Zhao consoled him, “This is the King's command; we can only obey. In recent years, more and more Daoist Priests have been walking about in the Royal Capital. If the King did not value them, how could it be so?
In the end, it's just that he's getting old and has begun to seek Immortality.” Her children had long since grown up, so this summons had little to do with her.
“If one could truly achieve Immortality, everyone in the world would be cultivating the Dao. They talk about seeking transcendence, but aren't they just doing it for wealth and status? The King has grown foolish in his old age, to have his mind so bewitched by them.”
These words, however, were only spoken for Madam Zhao to hear; he did not dare let them spread outside. Among the children of the Zhao Family of appropriate age, there were exactly three boys and three girls, and Zhao Chun was among them. She was not opposed to the summons.
Survival in a chaotic world was already difficult; practicing martial arts was for self-preservation, to have the ability to stand on her own. If she were chosen to enter the Daoist temple, she wouldn't have to marry. Even if she had to stay in the temple for her entire life, it was better than the Three Obedience and Four Virtues.
In any case, she would be able to decide her own destiny. She was a modern person, with a way of thinking vastly different from the locals. The two half-sisters who were also summoned did not think the same way.
Daoist Priests were mostly poor, having severed their worldly ties to live alone. They were used to being surrounded by servants, having their clothes laid out and their meals served to them. They said they could never endure a life of Ascetic Cultivation, so they both hoped not to be chosen, so they could return.
As for the one older brother and two younger brothers, they were determined to walk the path of martial arts. Among the group of six, the only one who wanted to be chosen was, surprisingly, Zhao Chun. On the night before her departure, Zhao Chun suffered from a rare bout of insomnia.
Her status in the Zhao Family was not high, and her future would likely be to be married off hastily as a tool for a political alliance. Entering the Daoist temple for cultivation was almost the best path she could see at the moment. If she wasn't selected, she would have to make other plans.
She was only ten years old; her life had barely begun. Zhao Chun turned over to face the wall. Moonlight spilled in from the window, a vast expanse of white, with a few flying insects dancing up and down.
I'll just take it one step at a time, Zhao Chun curled up under the covers, forcing herself to clear her mind. There was still much to do tomorrow, so she needed to be well-rested. Just as orange-gold clouds began to form on the horizon, while the distant mountains were still shrouded in night, Zhao Chun was woken up.
Her luggage was already packed and placed on a rack by the bed. It wasn't that she didn't have servants to wait on her, but Zhao Chun found it strange and never allowed them into her room. She handled her daily washing and dressing herself.
Pingyang Prefecture, where the Zhao Family resided, was not large. Although its population was only a few tens of thousands, there were still over eight hundred children of the right age. The prominent families rode in four-wheeled horse-drawn carriages, and those who could afford it also rented a mule-drawn cart.
As for the common folk, they could only ride in the ox-carts arranged by the government. At this moment, Zhao Chun was rather glad to have been born in the Duke's Manor, so she wouldn't have to squeeze into an ox-cart with more than ten other people.
Having been in this world for so long, this was her first time traveling far from home. Not long after boarding the carriage, she couldn't resist lifting the curtain to look outside. The procession of carts moved forward at a steady pace.
The tall city gates of Pingyang Prefecture grew smaller and smaller, and the continuous city walls, like a Black Snake, eventually turned into a thin, dark line. The Zhao Family's carriage was at the very front, followed by the mule-carts and ox-carts in order.
Inside them, there were others who, like Zhao Chun, were peering outside, their youthful faces appearing at the window ledges. In the same carriage with her were two older sisters, Zhao Yue and Zhao Mian, who had just turned eleven.
Like Zhao Chun, they were both born of Concubines, but they were much luckier; their birth mothers were still alive, so they had someone to dote on them. Zhao Chun had started practicing martial arts at the age of six.
She was taller than others her age, and her skin was very fair, though not delicate—a little rougher than the young ladies pampered in the Inner Courtyard. She was highly adaptable and full of curiosity, so she naturally didn't feel tired sitting in the carriage. As for Zhao Yue and Zhao Mian, they looked listless.
They had only just left the city gates and had already complained twice about chest tightness and dizziness.
“I've never ridden in such a crude carriage before. The roads in the city are all paved, not like out here, where they're all rotten,” Zhao Yue grumbled, leaning against a cushion, her small face pale from the jolting.
Zhao Chun did not respond to her. Zhao Mian was doing better than her sister. Although she was uncomfortable, she was still in relatively good spirits.
Hugging her luggage, she said, “We've hardly gone anywhere. I heard that even for a fine steed galloping day and night, it takes three days to reach the Royal Capital. At our speed, it'll probably take the better part of half a month.”
Hearing this terrible news, Zhao Yue fell back, her lips moved, but she said no more. The carriage was quiet for a good while. Zhao Chun, having come prepared, took out a copy of the Hundred Tales of Jin and Chu from her bundle and began to read with relish.
The written and spoken language of this world bore similarities to ancient Chinese. In her past life, she had studied linguistics, so she made rapid progress in learning these things.
“You're Zhao Chun?”
Zhao Mian was just an eleven-year-old child and found it hard to stay quiet. After fiddling with the things in her bundle from inside to out and finding nothing to entertain herself with, she started a conversation. Zhao Chun had just finished a Ghost Tale and answered distractedly, “En.”
Zhao Jian had so many children that she didn't know all of them either. If Madam Zhao hadn't made them gather to get acquainted before leaving, she wouldn't even have been able to call them by name. It was the same for Zhao Mian.
She had only found out who Zhao Chun was yesterday. This younger sister never attended the gatherings of the Zhao family's daughters; among the sisters, she was an invisible person.
“What book are you reading?”
“Here.”
Zhao Chun closed the book to show her the cover, then opened it again, flipped back to her page, and continued reading. The journey was long, and if she engaged a little girl of this age once, she would be pestered constantly.
Zhao Chun didn't want to bring trouble upon herself, so she simply put up a front of being withdrawn and taciturn, keeping others at arm's length. Having been rebuffed, Zhao Mian couldn't very well keep trying when she was being given the cold shoulder, so she sulkily sat to one side.
(End of this chapter)