A marriage decree sent Princess Chu Yao, the seventh princess, to wed Pei Zhi, the Great General Who Guards the Nation.
All of the capital was taking bets: how many days could a pampered princess last in the general’s household?
On their wedding night, he tossed her a contract. “I’ll shield Your Highness from open attacks and hidden schemes. In return, Your Highness will help me fend off the royal family’s pressure to marry. Three years from now, we’ll each get what we want and divorce.”
She picked up her brush and added a line: “One more clause: we work together to investigate the Northern Border army’s missing pay. We split the proceeds fifty-fifty.”
He looked up in surprise, meeting her fox-like, cunning eyes.
From then on, in public she was the willful, unruly general’s wife, smashing up taverns and berating young dandies while covering for all his secret investigations. In private, she was the mysterious “white-robed strategist” in the military tent, whose battle plans left veteran generals slapping the table in admiration.
Until he was ambushed. At the critical moment, she led three hundred household troops in a raid on the enemy’s rear, and shot the enemy commander through the throat with a single arrow.
The general, covered in blood, staggered over and embraced her. “You... how do you know military strategy?”
She pulled out the contract he’d written all those years ago. On the back, in her elegant handwriting, was the entire Art of War by Duke Wei, copied from memory.
“General Pei,” she said with a radiant smile, tears streaming down her face, “I’ve played the fool for three years. I’m tired. Now I’ll tell you: I want a world where no one would ever dare send a woman off in a political marriage again.”
He tore up the contract and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Then I’ll win that world for Your Highness.”
