Chapter 19: The Guard队

After finishing her words, Wang Keyue did not wait for a response from the others. She still had to tidy up the ox cart, planning to pour some coarse grains into another sack and add a few sweet potatoes. She wasn’t even sure if sweet potatoes existed in this world, but she didn’t care. If they didn’t, this was the perfect opportunity to take them out—no one would be able to tell whether these belonged to her or to the soldiers.

After all, she and Granny Zhang were responsible for managing all the provisions. Granny Zhang had always been under Grandmother’s supervision and had accompanied Wang Yue’er since childhood. She was the most trustworthy person by the old lady’s side, so for now, there was no danger in letting her handle things.

“We’re setting out!” came Granny’s voice from the front. As Wang Keyue looked ahead, she saw that the original group of twenty was still intact—every single one of them had chosen to join the guard team. The sight brought a faint sense of satisfaction to Wang Keyue. It seemed that these twenty people were at least sensible; there were no foolishly conservative ones among them.

“Alright,” Wang Keyue said, opening a bundle on the ground beside her. Inside were daggers and machetes. These weapons were distinctly different from the standard issue used by soldiers; they were smaller, about forty centimeters long—shorter than a woman’s arm—and very light to hold.

In truth, these were cold weapons rewarded by the system, just selected for those more suited to women’s use.

“Since you’ve made up your minds, now hand your bundles over to Old Liu,” Wang Keyue instructed. “She’ll keep them safe for you. Then, each of you come forward and pick a weapon that suits you. Along the way, I’ll assign you some simple tasks.” With that, she gestured for Old Liu to step up.

Old Liu, accompanied by two young maids, came forward, collecting the bundles from everyone’s shoulders with a gentle smile. “Ladies, from now on you can count on me to handle logistics. Rest assured!” Her words carried a hint of awe, which left the twenty women exchanging uncertain glances.

Old Liu herself felt nervous. When the young mistress told her to take charge of logistics, she was puzzled—what did that even mean? Only after asking did she realize: it simply meant to manage affairs!

Such a good thing falling into her lap was indeed a stroke of luck. Even if it was just overseeing twenty people, it was still a decent position—proof that she held a place in her mistress’s eyes. If she performed well, what future prospects would she have to worry about?

Old Liu and the two maids managed to pack all twenty bundles into just two baskets. In reality, these so-called bundles contained little more than a change of clothes; many had nothing at all. Think about it: a group of servants sent to the frontier with a disgraced household—how could they be allowed to bring anything valuable? Once they reached the border, the officials would likely sell them all off. The luckier ones would be sold for the hardest, dirtiest labor, subject to their master’s whims. The younger ones would fare even worse, sold straight into brothels or forced into military camps as camp followers—their fates imaginable.

For these women, then, the Wang family’s rebellion was a chance at rebirth, a shot at survival. Who wouldn’t want to live, no matter how hard or bitter life might be? After only a moment’s thought, they had all resolutely chosen to join the guard team.

Zhao Mama was the first to step forward—tall and strong, she picked the longest machete. The others didn’t hesitate either, each choosing a weapon for themselves. Weapon in hand, under Wang Keyue’s lead, they tucked their skirts into their belts, tightened the cuffs of their sleeves and trouser legs, wound their loose hair into neat knots atop their heads, and secured it with cloth bands. Once ready, Wang Keyue led the group at a brisk pace to catch up with the already departed procession. In just a few minutes, they appeared at the front of the group.

At the rear, a few women heard the commotion and turned around curiously. Unable to see clearly at first, they let out cries of alarm. When everyone stopped and turned, they realized it was the young mistress leading a group toward them.

The elderly, women, and children looked on as the newcomers approached—each with a machete in hand, dressed smartly, with faces full of heroic spirit. Someone couldn’t help but exclaim, “Truly, women are no less than men!”