After Retiring to the Countryside, I Was Recruited as a Matrilocal Husband - Chapter 1

Deep within the rolling mountains, a convoy of oxcarts advanced slowly along an official highway constructed parallel to a winding river.

On one side of the road, lush green pines and cypresses stood tall and erect, interspersed with the brilliant gold of ginkgo leaves and the fiery crimson of maples, all competing in a vibrant display of autumn splendor.

Magnificent as the scenery was, no one had the heart to appreciate it at this moment. Whether it was the drivers urging the oxen forward or the female family members huddled inside the carriages, every face was etched with a panic they were desperately trying to conceal.

Suddenly, the sharp cry of a startled crow pierced through the woods, shattering the tensely maintained silence. A young maid with her hair bound in twin buns let out a sudden shriek of terror.

Cui Jun’s heart clenched. Her hand instinctively closed around the hilt of the short dagger hidden up her sleeve.

Beside her, another maid whose forehead was adorned with traditional yellow cosmetic paste sharply reprimanded the other girl, “What are you making such a fuss about?”

Realizing her lapse in composure, the twin-bun maid quickly addressed Cui Jun, “My apologies, Young Mistress.”

A grave expression clouded Cui Jun’s delicate, lovely features. Fighting to project a mask of seamless serenity, she shook her head slightly and offered a soft, reassuring murmur, “It is fine. The Ancient Crow Pass is notoriously treacherous and difficult to navigate; carriages frequently lose control and plunge straight into the river currents below. It is only natural to feel tense.”

“Young Mistress, it is the bandits that terrify your servant. Before we entered the pass, that woodcutter explicitly warned us that a merchant convoy had been plundered here recently. Could we perhaps…” Before the twin-bun maid could finalize her sentence, the yellow-adorned maid swiftly and securely clamped a hand over her mouth.

As if to comfort her attendants or perhaps to reassure herself Cui Jun murmured, “We have already journeyed sixty li. There are a mere twenty li remaining before we exit the pass. Bandits would never choose to execute an ambush so close to the active military checkpoint.”

The exact instant the words left her lips, a piercing whistle cleaved the air. The thickets and underbrush lining the highway shifted violently without a breath of wind, and over twenty bandits instantly bounded onto the road. They wore crimson cloths wrapped around their heads and short cross-collared tunics made of coarse brown fabric, brandishing blades, clubs, and short spears.

With a chaotic roar, the outlaws rapidly encircled the oxcarts and the entire traveling party.

Faced with the sudden crisis, the main driver reacted with commendable agility, instantly unsheathing the blade mounted at the front of his carriage. Behind them, several private guards and retainers likewise raised their swords and spears, forming a defensive perimeter around the oxcarts.

“I stated plainly that although this party travels in modest oxcarts, the ruts left by the wheels run exceptionally deep. If these carriages aren’t concealing valuable personnel, they are bound to be packed with coin and grain this is an absolute hallmark of a wealthy clan’s estate,” the bandit chieftain declared, pointing a triumphant finger at the private retainers.

The yellow-adorned maid pushed open the carriage’s front shutter, announcing with level composure, “This is the traveling carriage of the prestigious Cui Clan of Boling the lineage of the late Military Administrator of Ruzhou.”

The outlaws exchanged uneasy glances.

The Cui Clan of Boling stood at the absolute pinnacle of the prominent aristocratic families. From the reign of Emperor Taizong to the present era, their lineage had yielded eight imperial chancellors. Their prestige was monumental; no one in the realm failed to recognize the name of the Cui Clan.

She had assumed that invoking the Cui name would be more than enough to intimidate the outlaws, or at the very least, buy them a thin lifeline to trade wealth for safe passage. However, the bandit chieftain, terrified that her words might fracture the resolve of his subordinates, let out a thunderous roar. Brandishing his weapon, he charged forward to clash furiously with the Cui family’s private retainers.

The two maids were already shivering violently with terror. Shielded by her attendants, Cui Jun’s mind raced with absolute anxiety, yet she desisted from making any reckless movements, rapidly calculating an operational out.

Just then, the bandit chieftain bellowed to his crew, shouting that their mountain fortress lacked women. If they plundered the young mistress of the Cui Clan to serve as a shared wife for the stronghold, the Cui family would undoubtedly protect their public reputation and refrain from hunting them down.

Every ounce of color drained from Cui Jun’s face. Fueled by a surge of pure fury, an unhealthy flush rippled across her cheeks. She retrieved the dagger from her sleeve. Assuming their mistress intended to commit suicide to preserve her honor, the maids gasped, only to hear her deliver a chilling, decisive vow: “Even if I am destined to perish today, I shall drag these bastards down to serve as my cushions in death.”

Though still terrified, the attendants understood perfectly well that refusing to fight to the absolute bitter end would yield a fate far more agonizing than death itself. Snatching up whatever wooden clubs and staffs were within reach, they leaped down from the oxcart.

Severe casualties had already surfaced among the private guards. Breaking through the defensive perimeter, the bandit chieftain surged straight toward the women. Catching sight of his target, a predatory light flared in his eyes as he lunged forward to seize Cui Jun.

At that exact, hair-raising threshold of peril, the sudden thunder of galloping hooves echoed through the pass. With a sharp, lethal whoosh, a feathered arrow cleaved the air, embedding itself with absolute precision straight into the bandit chieftain’s arm.

As the arrowhead tore through bone and sinew, a spray of the chieftain’s blood splattered directly across Cui Jun’s face.

The bandit leader let out a scream of agony. Turning his head, he discovered that a detachment of local garrison soldiers had materialized around them out of nowhere.

The garrison troops were exceptionally robust and battle-hardened, and their numbers trebled those of the outlaws. Realizing the odds, a wave of retreat instantly spread among the bandits.

His eyes nearly splitting with rage, the chieftain prepared to bellow a command for his men to throw their lives against the soldiers. Yet, before a sound could form, another lethal arrow tore through the air—this time piercing straight through his throat. Unable to utter a single syllable, he clutched his neck, collapsing backward onto the dirt with a twisted, macabre grimace.

Amidst the garrison forces, a young officer clad in leather armor and holding a longbow sat astride a magnificent black steed, executing commands with absolute, cold precision: “Preserve a single live mouth to interrogate for the location of their mountain stronghold. Cut down the remaining outlaws without exception!”

Left completely leaderless, the bandits scattered in pure panic, fleeing in all directions only to be relentlessly run down and slaughtered by the charging soldiers.

Blood flowed uniformly across the ground, the metallic stench of carnage rapidly saturating the mountain air.

Having miraculously survived the tribulation, some of the Cui family’s servants let out broken, breathless laughter born of absolute relief, while others stood pinned to the spot, completely stupefied by the carpet of corpses surrounding them.

The blood splattered across Cui Jun’s face had already begun to dry and harden. Her eyes remained locked unblinkingly onto the young officer, terrified that this commander might behave exactly like the ruthless private armies of the regional warlords, refusing to spare even ordinary civilians.

The young officer cast a glance toward Cui Jun, noting that a spray of blood detailed her porcelain skin. Just beneath the outer corner of her phoenix eyes rested a tiny mark whether it was a natural beauty mark or a dried droplet of blood remained unclear lacing her pristine features with a trace of striking sensuality. Consequently, the officer couldn’t rein in her eyes, lingering her gaze for a few beats longer.

Perhaps because the scrutiny was far too overt and undisguised, Cui Jun abruptly snapped out of her trance. Terrified that the officer had processed a malicious, improper intent, she deployed her sharp wits. Once again invoking the prestige of the Cui Clan, she loudly promised to reward the garrison forces with a massive fortune in gold as an expression of gratitude for their salvation.

While the Cui name carried zero weight against desperate outlaws, it might operate under entirely different parameters when dealing with soldiers who still technically represented the imperial government.

“The Cui Clan of Boling? It sounds vaguely familiar,” the young officer murmured under her breath.

The maid’s heart fluttered with anxiety. Has the renown of the prestigious Cui Clan truly devolved to a caliber where ordinary people remain oblivious to it?

The historical prestige of the clan indeed yielded zero operational utility among these rough garrison troops. However, the exact moment the phrase “rewarded with a massive fortune” hit their ears, one of the soldiers actively prompted his commander: “Eldest Young Master, didn’t you previously order us to run inquiries regarding the Cui Clan of Boling? You explicitly stated you were seeking a certain lady of the Cui lineage!”

As if a gear had suddenly clicked into place, the young officer remarked, “Ah, correct. That exact Cui Clan of Boling. Tell me, does your lineage happen to include an individual named Cui Yuanshu?”

Hearing the name of her late father, Cui Jun fell into a brief lapse of emotional disarray. Swiftly mastering her focus, her chest filled with a profound apprehension, yet she maintained a veneer of absolute, level serenity.

She replied, “Yuanshu happens to be the honored name of my late father. As for whether there resides a lady within the Cui Clan who shares my father’s name, this daughter of the house remains entirely unaware.”

“Tsk. I am not seeking Cui Yuanshu. I am hunting for Cui Yuanshu’s daughter the Seventh Young Mistress, Cui Qiang.”

Could this officer please learn to deliver her sentences in full from the start?

Choking on her words for a fraction of a second, Cui Jun stated, “I am precisely the Seventh Young Mistress.”

“You?” The officer directed a highly skeptical, thorough evaluation onto the young woman. To cross paths with the exact target she was hunting for right here wasn’t this far too convenient?

Unsure whether disclosing her identity would yield a fortunate outcome or a lethal disaster, Cui Jun realized she had no choice but to gamble her hand.

Piercing straight into the young officer’s eyes, she affirmed with absolute certainty, “Me.”

The officer let out a loose chuckle, extending a hand with an undisciplined, casual posture. “Forward your travel passport so I may review it.”

Deeply dissatisfied by the commander’s lack of formal etiquette, the twin-bun maid delivered a sharp reprimand: “You soldier, how dare you behave with such absolute insolence!”

The garrison troops currently clearing the battlefield felt a surge of immediate fury at her words, internally calculating the operational feasibility of executing her on the spot as a bandit accomplice.

Recognizing the dangerous escalation, Cui Jun internally cursed the blunder, swiftly interjecting, “My attendant has operated without proper boundaries; I implore the General to grant absolution. The General’s demand to inspect our travel documents falls squarely under his professional mandate. Chaoyan, move this instant and retrieve the passport.”

Hit by a wave of guilt, the twin-bun maid quickly presented the travel documents before the young officer.

The commander appeared entirely oblivious to the fact that “soldier” had been deployed as a baseline insult, lazily accepting the parchment.

Seeing one of her subordinates eagerly crane his neck to look, the officer prompted, “Can you parse these characters?”

The soldier replied with absolute pride texturing his face, “Not a single one!”

“Bah! If you are entirely illiterate, what on earth are you crowding around for? Clear out,” the officer barked playfully.

The soldier offered a mischievous grin, dodging out of range. “Eldest Young Master, it isn’t as if your own literacy operates at a flawless caliber, is it?”

Cui Jun and her attendants: “…”

In this chaotic era, the vast majority of military ranks were filled via aggressive recruitment drives targeting impoverished households; that they were entirely illiterate was by no means an anomaly.

The young officer wasn’t completely illiterate; certain obscure characters simply remained beyond her immediate decoding parameters. Fortunately, she could cleanly verify the terms Cui Lineage and Ranked Seventh, along with the official crimson ink of the government stamp texturing the document.

“What is your final destination?” the officer inquired further, her phrasing shifting into a noticeably more refined register.

Cui Jun’s eyes darkened with a trace of grief. “Lushan County, Zhaoping Township. To pay respects at the graves of my late father and mother.”

“Lushan County… to think it stood at such a close marker all this time,” the officer murmured to herself. Returning the travel passport, she dismounted from her steed, closed the distance to stand directly before Cui Jun, and smoothly flipped her palm retrieving a square piece of silk fabric from somewhere within her kit and extending it across the space.

Without explicitly detailing the utility of the silk, she simply announced, “My name is Zhang Zhaoge—spelled exactly like the ‘Zhaoge’ referenced in the traditional songs of the boatmen. I serve as the Vice Commander of the Lushan County Garrison. I have been commissioned by a close friend to seek out her maternal cousin, the Seventh Young Mistress of the Cui Clan.”

Cui Jun froze, a violent shiver rippling across her stature. Fueled by a surge of intense, fiercely policed emotion, she pressed, “She… could her surname perhaps be Dou?”

Zhang Zhaoge offered a firm nod. “Correct. An individual from Bianzhou.”

“Where exactly is she residing right now? How is her current status?”

“Naturally, she remains within Bianzhou. As for her status… she should be fairing reasonably well, I suppose.”

Cui Jun burst into tears of absolute joy.

While the surrounding soldiers failed to comprehend the structural variables behind her intense emotional collapse, only the attendants standing by her side could truly map the profound relief flooding their mistress’s heart.