Chapter 19: My Eighteenth Year

By the side of Baling Bridge, Cao Xin bade farewell to Guo Fengxiao, then ordered the coachman to drive him home.

In the rear chambers of General Cao’s mansion, the bedroom was filled with the delicate fragrance of incense curling from a crane-necked burner. Beside the bed stood a brass brazier shaped like a deer’s head, glowing with embers, radiating warmth.

Gan Yuniang reclined on the soft couch, a quilt draped over her long legs, needle and thread in hand as she stitched an inner lining of soft satin. This lining, made by wrapping calfskin in over ten layers of silk, was finely stitched, supple yet strong—specially crafted to withstand hidden arrows and stray shafts, suitable for wear on the battlefield.

Gan Yuniang had sewn two such linings last year. Last night, noticing that Lord Cao’s body had grown more robust and muscular, the earlier garments now felt too tight and ill-fitting. Taking advantage of a free day, she picked up her needle and thread to make him another, unwilling to entrust the task to others.

By the bed, two small tabby kittens played with a ball of thread. The maid spinning yarn tapped their little paws, prompting them to release the ball in haste.

Knock, knock, knock~

“Sister!”

Zou Linniang called from outside the door.

“Linniang, come in quickly!” Gan Yuniang smiled gently, set down her needlework, and beckoned to the doorway.

Gan Yuniang was pleased with the presence of more women in the rear chambers; it was proper for a man to have three wives and four concubines. In families of standing, taking in more women ensured flourishing descendants and an unbroken lineage. The general was a marquis, the prefect of Nanyang, and the General Who Subdues the Rebels, drawing a stipend of two thousand bushels—a high-ranking official. Yet, in his rear chambers, she was the only one, and had not borne a child.

This often made Gan Yuniang anxious and fearful. She had repeatedly urged Lord Cao to take concubines, but he only replied, “Better one bite of a celestial peach than a whole basket of overripe apricots. No hurry, no hurry.”

Now the general had brought back Zou Linniang, whose appearance was dignified and graceful, well-read and courteous, of good character. Though twenty-four and somewhat older, her figure was full, with broad hips and ample bosom—a woman clearly suited for childbearing.

Gan Yuniang was quite satisfied with this new sister, hoping she would quickly bear a child for the general, to bring prosperity to the household.

“Sister, are you feeling better?”

Zou Linniang entered, smiling, dressed in fine brocade skirts and a pale blue jacket. Jade pins adorned her cloud-like hair, her lips tinted with red rouge, as lovely as cherries; her makeup appeared richer and more festive than when she arrived. Two maids followed, carrying food boxes.

“I’m perfectly well, just a little lazy and unwilling to move. Thank you for your concern,” Gan Yuniang replied, pulling her collar to cover a few red marks on her fair skin.

Zou Linniang curved her lips into a smile. “I heard you hadn’t eaten yet, so I prepared meat porridge and several small dishes. Would you like to try them?”

“That’s wonderful, thank you for your trouble.”

Gan Yuniang rose with the help of a maid, her brows slightly furrowed. Seeing this, Zou Linniang hurried to offer support, laughing lightly. “Sister, you’ve suffered. Last time in Wancheng, I too couldn’t get out of bed for two days. I never imagined you’d be the same.”

Gan Yuniang blushed, pulling Linniang to sit beside her. “This hardly counts as suffering. The general toils on the battlefield, facing blades and danger, risking his life. When he returns home and seeks a bit of diversion, we sisters should oblige him. Resting for a day or two is no hardship, far more comfortable than his struggles on the front.”

Zou Linniang nodded gently, her bright eyes sparkling with laughter. “The general often speaks of your gentle and virtuous nature, your grace and wisdom, calling you a peerless woman. Now that I’ve met you, I find you even better than he described. Serving the general alongside you is my good fortune.”

“You are wonderful too, dear sister—I find you so amiable, almost like true kin,” Gan Yuniang smiled, her words growing warmer. She slipped a fine mutton-fat jade bracelet from her wrist and personally fastened it onto Zou Linniang’s arm.

Zou Linniang thanked her joyfully, admiring the bracelet with delight.

Once the maids set the table, Yuniang and Linniang sat facing each other to eat. Nine small plates of exquisite hometown delicacies were set out, some sour, some spicy, paired with soft millet and fish porridge—delicious and satisfying. The two chatted as they ate, growing ever more congenial.

——

“Yuniang, Linniang, I’m home.”

Lord Cao strode in with his distinctive gait, returning to the Spring Pavilion at the rear residence, where Yuniang and Linniang sat together, drinking tea and chatting.

One wore a red skirt, with long shapely legs and a dignified, jade-like beauty; the other a blue jacket, her figure full and alluring, her face as lovely as a peach blossom. Together, they seemed like twin lotuses of the immortal realm, flowers of earthly splendor.

“The general has returned,” Yuniang and Linniang rose to greet him.

“Haha, I should’ve come back earlier, but those rascals Cao Zhang and Cao Pi insisted on watching me practice martial arts, so I played with them for a while.”

Lord Cao helped Yuniang to sit on the couch.

“You’ve worked up a sweat, general. Would you like to wash and change clothes first?” Yuniang gently stroked his back.

“No rush, I’ll bathe before sleep. What were you chatting about? Can a man like me listen in?” Lord Cao laughed.

“We were talking business. I mentioned selling perfume to Linniang—turns out she and I had exchanged letters about it. Isn’t that quite a coincidence, general?”

Yuniang took a warm towel from a maid and wiped his forehead, chest, and back.

“Haha, it is indeed. That’s what they say: ‘Those who belong together find their way to the same house.’” Cao Xin chuckled.

Zou Linniang poured a cup of hot tea, offering it to him with a smile. “General, now that I’ve heard sister explain, I realize what a grand business you’ve built.”

“It’s not so grand—just some trade in Yanzhou, Xuzhou, and Yuzhou. If the country were unified, with hundreds of shops across nine provinces, that would be true business,” Cao Xin waved his hand.

In his days as a bandit chief on Langya Mountain, he led over a thousand Langya soldiers, raiding from Xuzhou to Qingzhou, Jizhou, Yanzhou, and even the Guanzhong river basin, plundering wealth from the local gentry.

Later, when he descended from the mountains and turned honest, he used part of his loot to buy land in Yanzhou, established farms, and settled over ten thousand mountain refugees, giving them food, clothing, and fields to cultivate.

The rest of the wealth he invested in business. Now, he had shops in over ten cities in Xuzhou, Yanzhou, and Yuzhou, three tea houses and taverns, selling soaps, perfumes, spirits, and teas.

Last year, total revenue reached two hundred thousand strings of cash. At current prices, one string of cash could buy a bushel of millet, ten could buy a bolt of hemp cloth, and a hundred could purchase fine Shu brocade.

Given the present production levels, a worker could weave at most three bolts of Shu brocade a year. Even working tirelessly for a lifetime, one could only make two hundred bolts, worth twenty thousand strings of cash. Two hundred thousand was a staggering sum for most people.

This year, the farms had added several soap workshops, breweries, and tea-processing houses. For these monopoly products in high demand, increased production meant greater profits.

With the money earned, he reinvested in the farms—growing grain, raising fat pigs, selecting and training new Langya recruits, expanding trade routes, forging weapons, armor, and horseshoes.

With new recruits, his army grew stronger, enabling him to win more battles and seize more loot—a virtuous cycle.

“General, Linniang is skilled at calculations and bookkeeping. Why not let her help me manage the accounts?” Yuniang suggested as she helped him undress that evening.

“Agreed. The two of you together can consult on matters as needed,” Cao Xin nodded.

The previous year, he and Elder Cao established the Huizhong Trading Company, with Yuniang in charge. Lady Ding and Elder Cao held shares, and all staff were trusted kin—managers from the farms, members of the Cao family, and Yuniang’s relatives.

The company had a security force of over eight hundred, protecting the farms and escorting goods.

Half were retired or disabled Langya soldiers, half were trained new recruits—both cavalry and infantry, with the old guiding the new. Their combat prowess was almost on par with the Langya army.

With such support, Yuniang only needed to arrange deliveries, reconcile accounts with local managers, collect payments, and distribute profits. Elder Cao and Lady Ding handled official affairs.

With Zou Linniang’s assistance, Yuniang’s workload would be much lighter.

“General, I am useless…” Yuniang whispered softly as they entered the curtained bed, “Should I let Linniang serve you tonight?”

“Haha, no need. Let’s just talk,” Cao Xin replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“General, the eldest sister came by recently, saying you’re older now and should have a few healthy maids. I agreed and picked ten, raising them in the courtyard. If you have the desire, you can indulge them anytime,” Yuniang said quietly.

“No rush. We’re both healthy and can bear children. Linniang, you’re still young; having children too early isn’t good for your health. Wait a couple of years.”

Cao Xin kissed the beauty mark at the corner of her lips.

“General, I’m eighteen—not so young. My mother bore me at sixteen.”

“That’s why your mother’s health is weak. I don’t want you to fall ill. I want Yuniang to live a long life, beautiful as ever. Let’s wait a few years before talking about children.”

“Mm. I’ll do as you say, general.”

Yuniang nestled into his arms, her skin cool