After Retiring to the Countryside, I Was Recruited as a Matrilocal Husband - Chapter 3

Although Cui Jun had successfully leveraged the fearsome reputation of the garrison troops to vent her profound frustrations, she did not allow herself to grow complacent.

With her family estate usurped by others, outside of the three qing of land given as her mother’s wedding dowry, the remaining four qing of inherited permanent property accumulated during her grandfather and father’s lifetimes as officials were entirely out of her grasp. Furthermore, the liquid wealth amassed by her parents during their lifetimes had already been mostly depleted.

Yet, even under these bleak parameters, outsiders still relentlessly coveted her residual assets.

The reason the senior servant treated her with such explicit contempt and neglect was solely because the woman’s backing was Cui Yuanfeng.

Cui Yuanfeng served as the Vice County Magistrate of Nanyang in Dengzhou, wielding substantial authority across the region. Attempting to reclaim her family estate from his clutches was nothing short of trying to wrench meat directly from a tiger’s jaws. How could she possibly execute such a feat entirely on her own?

Naturally, she harbored a baseline of gratitude toward Cui Yuanfeng for shielding her family’s arable land from complete confiscation initially. Yet, she had also wrestled with a profound confusion over whether a person of her female gender simply shouldn’t fight for her inheritance. Consequently, throughout these past four years, she had never once demanded the seasonal yields of those properties from Cui Yuanfeng even the current renovations of this country villa were funded entirely by the inheritance her parents had saved.

However, her calculated compliance and gratitude had merely yielded an environment where others pushed their boundaries further. During the spring cultivation season, the three qing of land belonging to her mother’s dowry had been gradually seeded with millet by the retainers of Cui Yuanfeng’s house. The fields remaining for the guards tracking her allegiance grew fewer by the day.

The harvest directly dictated whether a retainer could sustain an entire household. A reduction in land not only downsized the mistress’s seasonal yields, but it also severely squeezed the baseline survival space of her private guards.

To secure a livelihood, the retainers were faced with two choices: either secretly shift their allegiance to Cui Yuanfeng, or maintain absolute submission alongside their mistress.

She originally had no desire to make things difficult for Nanny Du regarding the garrison rewards. However, since private guards had been slaughtered today precisely to protect her person, as their master, she could not allow the morale of the surviving servants to freeze. If she permitted Nanny Du to ruthlessly mistreat her retainers, who on earth would dare track her allegiance in the future?

The yellow-adorned maid, Xilan, carried over a fresh set of mattress linens and comforters to arrange the bed. She murmured, “Young Mistress, you have endured a grueling commute and suffered an immense shock today. It is best to rest early to gather your energies; only then can you properly preside over the commemorative rituals for your late parents.”

Cui Jun let out a soft sigh. “Xilan, I possess zero inclination to sleep.”

Thinking it over, Xilan inquired gently, “Is Young Mistress perhaps dwelling on the matters concerning Lady Dou?”

“Indeed. Now that I have successfully verified her current location, I desperately wish to dispatch an envoy to Bianzhou to seek her out. Yet, having just suffered a severe depletion of our guards today, paired with the imminent approach of the autumn harvest, I am terrified I must delay the matter for a length of time.”

Xilan offered words of comfort: “Why must Young Mistress anchor yourself in anxiety? Given that Vice Commander Zhang was commissioned by Lady Dou to seek out your location, he will undoubtedly dispatch personnel to connect with her first.”

Cui Jun understood the operational logic behind the statement perfectly, yet failing to secure a direct response from Dou Ying at the first immediate second left her heart feeling distinctly unsettled and forlorn.

Invoking the name of Zhang Zhaoge, Cui Jun retrieved the silk handkerchief the officer had presented to dry the blood from her cheek. She commanded, “Take this silk piece and burn it to ashes on my behalf.”

Xilan immediately caught the underlying mechanics of her mistress’s intent. Accepting the fabric, she hesitated briefly before asking, “Should Vice Commander Zhang request the return of this handkerchief in the future, how ought we to address it?”

Cui Jun shouldn’t have accepted the silk piece to begin with, but it had been aggressively forced upon her person by a “man.” No matter how premium the weave, she could not retain it she couldn’t even wash it clean to return it. The moment an individual with malicious intent caught sight of it, it could easily be leveraged as definitive proof of an illicit, private exchange between herself and Zhang Zhaoge.

Even if it meant crossing Zhang Zhaoge, she absolutely refused to permit such a lethal vulnerability to remain.

“Simply state it was inadvertently lost.”

Xilan complied with the directive.

Flipping her gaze past the partition a few moments later to watch Xilan busy herself with the logistics of the room, Cui Jun prompted, “Why are you still lingering by my side? You and Qingxi rarely catch a single opportunity to cross paths throughout the year. Move along and reunite with your husband.”

Xilan had served as a maid within the Cui household for fifteen years, having anchored herself by Cui Jun’s side since the exact moment her mistress had mastered walking.

Five years ago, noting that Xilan was advancing in years (though she was a mere nineteen at the time), the late Madam Cui had taken charge, betrothing her to Qingxi, who had just marked his twentieth calendar year.

Regrettably, barely a brief moment after the couple finalized their marriage, they were caught in the tides of war, spending several years executing a chaotic, displaced journey alongside their masters.

Only over these past two years had their existence finally stabilized. Xilan remained by her mistress’s side to offer care, while Qingxi managed the villa’s logistics across Zhaoping Township leaving them with less than a single month of shared companionship throughout the entire year.

Cui Jun had zero desire to behave like the overbearing mother of traditional tragedies, forcing a devoted couple to fly their separate ways.

Following her mistress’s intent, Xilan went to seek out Qingxi. Yet, her purpose wasn’t to exchange affectionate sentiments, but rather to interrogate him directly: “Were you previously aware that a band of outlaws had anchored their presence inside the Luyuan Pass?”

Qingxi had been charged with the mandate of settling the wounded retainers and executing the funeral arrangements for the deceased. Currently consumed by the logistics, catching the skeptical inquiry directed by his long-absent wife left his heart crying out with bitter grievance. He replied, “Had I possessed even a shred of knowledge, how on earth could I have permitted the Young Mistress to travel to the villa without dispatching scouts ahead to notify her? Should a lethal accident strike the Young Mistress, not a single one of us would possess a path to survival.”

Did they genuinely assume that the moment their master vanished, they would automatically be restored to civilian freedom? In their dreams. Without the Young Mistress, they would either be processed as part of her residual estate to be inherited by the primary branch of the Cui Clan, or be sold off like common commodities by the elder Cui.

Whether inherited or sold, their destination would inevitably remain anchored as servants and slaves.

Tracking the Young Mistress at least guaranteed they were highly valued and utilized. Under a different master, there was zero assurance they wouldn’t be completely ground down by cruel treatment!

Consequently, Qingxi truly did not dare harbor a single thought of betraying his master.

Xilan chose to take his words at face value for the time being, decoding from the exchange that Nanny Du indeed lacked the explicit intent to leverage the bandits’ blades to assassinate the Young Mistress though the senior servant undoubtedly harbored a subconscious hope that a fatal accident would strike her mistress.

Xilan addressed her husband further: “The exact moment Nanny Du finalizes the logistics of the rewards to deliver them to the garrison troops, locate a seamless opening to track her path.”

“Why?”

“Run an evaluation on whether those garrison soldiers are easy to communicate with, and casually verify whether that outlaw band along the highway has been completely eradicated.”

A realization hit Qingxi, and he nodded in rapid succession, promising he would execute the mandate flawlessly.

In stark contrast to the high-stakes friction and psychological warfare texturing the Cui family estate, the walled fortress where the local garrison troops anchored their operations was filled with a thoroughly lighthearted, celebratory energy.

Though the twenty-odd corpses suspended atop the main gatehouse looked distinctly gruesome, to the garrison troops, they represented nothing less than concrete military achievements—liquid leverage to demand imperial rewards.

Lushan County commanded a total of three hundred garrison soldiers, with every detachment of one hundred men policed by a Vice Commander. A Vice Commander occupied the lowest rung of the officer tracks; above them sat a Sergeant (Shi jiang), and atop the Sergeant operated the Garrison Commander (Zhen’an shi). The post of Garrison Commander was typically held concurrently by the regional Prefect meaning that even the local County Magistrate lacked the authority to mobilize these troops.

Inside the military compound, the soldiers serving under Zhang Zhaoge’s banner were currently delivering a thoroughly animated narration to the troops of the other two camps:

“…We anchored our positions inside the mountains for a full day and night, and it wasn’t until past noon that those outlaws finally materialized. Yet, lacking definitive proof on whether they were ordinary mountain woodcutters or actual bandits, we chose to wait out another half a day. In the end… hey, care to guess how the mechanics unfolded?”

The listeners barked, “Cut the suspense!”

The soldier let out a hearty laugh, continuing, “In the end, those bastards actually launched a violent offensive against a traveling convoy! Because of that exact action, we were able to firmly verify their identity as the target outlaws!”

The troops from the other two camps looked on with pure envy. “Word has it that the party you salvaged belonged to the female lineage of the Cui Clan? The reward money you extract is bound to be exceptionally heavy!”

Ever since the late rebel leader Li the Jiedushi of Huaixi had been executed, it had been a very long time since anti-imperial insurgents had staged a campaign in this sector. If they wished to secure military merits, their sole operational path was targeting common bandits yet where on earth were they supposed to find a massive reservoir of outlaws to eradicate?

As for why they actively anticipated warfare rather than praying for a peaceful, stable existence?

They did not operate under the traditional Fubing conscription tracks; when no active campaign was staged, they possessed zero private land to cultivate, and their imperial rations and salaries were frequently subject to severe arrears. Without a war to fight, they lacked any opportunity to secure military merits, and had zero leverage to demand imperial rewards. Without those bonuses, how on earth were they supposed to sustain their wives, elderly parents, and children?

Compared to marching onto a true battlefield to square off against highly disciplined, heavily armored professional armies, eradicating local bandits was an exceptionally light, low-risk track to gather medals.

It wasn’t as if merchants hadn’t previously reported outlaw activity along the pass to the civil authorities. Yet, by the time the military tracks mobilized to reach the location, nothing remained but the butchered remains of the merchant convoys, their wealth and grain completely plundered. The highway was flanked by hundreds of li of dense, primeval forests; without knowing the coordinates of the bandit stronghold, blindly searching the mountains was nothing short of a massive waste of energy.

When another merchant convoy was plundered two days prior, the Sergeant had ordered Zhang Zhaoge to lead her detachment to scour the ridges. Who could have anticipated that this specific band of outlaws would march straight into the jaws of her blade? If this wasn’t an absolute display of Zhang Zhaoge’s immaculate fortune, what was?

The soldiers prepared to launch a grand celebration in the evening, only to realize that their commander, Zhang Zhaoge, was entirely missing from the grounds. Searching every nook of the encampment, they finally located her silhouette inside the study of the military office. She held a traditional ink brush, her features twisted into an expression of absolute, agonizing struggle.

“How on earth do you write the traditional character for ‘county’ again? Forget it, let’s keep the grammar simple: your cousin is currently residing under my roof… Tsk, why on earth does this phrasing read exactly like a ransom note?”

Finishing her draft, her eyes caught sight of a subordinate craning his neck by the doorway. Zhang Zhaoge swiftly rolled up the chaotic scribble of a letter, shoved it into a hollow bamboo tube, sealed it securely with hot wax, and tossed it across the space. “Dispatch an envoy to deliver this straight to the Dou residence in Bianzhou, to be presented to Lady Dou.”

Accepting the mandate, the soldier turned to run, only to halt his momentum and track back. “Eldest Young Master, are we heading out to consume alcohol tonight to celebrate?”

Zhang Zhaoge replied, “Hold your horses on the celebration. Wait until the official rewards are processed down to our hands, then we shall select an official day off to drink our fill. Besides, with our pockets completely drained of coin right now, how on earth are we supposed to enjoy the revelry?”

Hearing the logic, the soldier conceded it made sense, prompting further, “In that case, executing a few rounds of Yezi Xi (Leaf Cards) should be fine, correct? We can indulge our cravings while our funds are thin; that way, when the Cui family delivers their rewards tomorrow, I won’t end up losing the exact coin intended to be dispatched home to my family.”

Yezi Xi was a traditional card game that operated under the exact parameters of modern poker, frequently utilized by players to execute gambling.

Zhang Zhaoge felt a wave of absolute speechlessness. If you are genuinely terrified of lacking coin to dispatch home, couldn’t you simply choose to refrain from gambling entirely?

Yet, expecting them to desist from gambling was an absolute impossibility. Military life inside the compound was punishingly tedious; it wasn’t like modern eras where one could casually watch television, listen to broadcasts, or enjoy organized arts festivals and military drills during holidays.

The troops here were drawn almost entirely from the absolute bottom of the civilian ranks; many had suffered chronic starvation before entering the service. Long-term nutritional deficits left a vast majority suffering from night blindness, making night training an impossibility. Consequently, they had no choice but to locate alternative tracks to kill the long hours of the evening.

While the military code strictly banned interactions with prostitutes and the consumption of alcohol inside the camp, it explicitly permitted the play of Yezi Xi.

However, playing cards without skin in the game yielded zero kinetic excitement; they required a baseline of stakes to fuel their motivation. Thus, an ordinary leisure activity automatically transformed into a massive, centralized gambling arena.

While the official military codes strictly prohibited gambling with liquid coin, the execution of the rule depended entirely on whether the supreme commander policed the ranks with rigorous discipline.

Yet, in this current era… the Emperor was aggressively hoarding wealth, the civil administration was thoroughly corrupt, and regional warlords carved up the realm. With the top tiers setting such a tragic example, where on earth could one still find the immaculate discipline of the legendary generals of old?

Zhang Zhaoge’s immediate superior the camp’s Sergeant was actively participating in the games himself. Operating merely as a low-level officer looking to secure her daily rations and coast through her shift, she naturally chose to turn a blind eye to the logistics.

Watching the soldier sprint away into the darkness, Zhang Zhaoge shook her head with a soft sigh: “An absolute pack of gamblers. Completely beyond salvation.”