When she woke up, Yun Yang transformed into a sickly concubine whose engagement was broken off in the Great Xia Dynasty.
The aunt's mother sneered: "If you hire me, you will become your wife and become your concubine. You are only worthy of being a concubine."
She lowered her eyes and smiled softly, the charcoal pen in her sleeve flowing out symbols like a book from heaven on the rice paper.
Three days later, all the nobles in the city crossed the threshold and only asked her for a "Daxia number calculation chart".
My aunt tore the handkerchief into pieces: "Monster! This is witchcraft!"
But the man on the dragon throne leaned over and asked in a low voice: "Is this method possible to solve the military food problem in northern Xinjiang?"
She spread out her new book "General Planning" and looked at the hundred thousand cavalry outside the palace——
"More than military rations."
"I can make Daxia's territory re-measured using mathematics."
