"My mother says to marry a virtuous wife. If that heroine isn't wed yet, I wouldn’t mind bringing her home—ow! Lester, what’d you hit me for?!"

  The young scholar looked aggrieved, rubbing the back of his head as he stared in confusion at Lester Liew, who had just rapped his skull.

  Lester glanced at the imposing woman astride the horse—his so-called fierce wife—and whatever admiration he’d just felt drained out of him. With a grim face, he dragged his classmates away without another word.

  “Hey, hey, we’re not done watching!”

  The group complained, but he didn’t look back. Not until they were all shoved back into the academy did Lester finally snap irritably, “That’s my wife! She’s already married, so quit dreaming!”

  “Huh?” the young scholar who’d been thwacked looked a bit disappointed, but quickly turned curious. “Wait—so that’s the infamous wife you told us about?”

  Seeing Lester nod solemnly, someone muttered, “But she looked so gallant and heroic… doesn’t seem like the unreasonable, overbearing type at all.”

  “Hmph.” Lester huffed. “Brothers, you’re still too young. A woman can be valiant and still be unreasonable and disrespectful to her husband. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

  The younger scholars blinked at each other. Not mutually exclusive? Really?

  Lester gritted his teeth. “Not even a little.”

  The boys seemed to accept this strange logic. But then again—she was the one who killed the bandit chief! Wasn’t it only fair for a heroine to be a little domineering?

  Lester caught their admiring gazes and sighed inwardly. Lost causes, the lot of them. He couldn’t be bothered to explain further and stormed back to the classroom.

  He was the first to return, and took the opportunity to tattle to the teacher. “Sir, I had no interest in the ruckus outside, but I tried to bring the others back. They just wouldn’t listen.”

  Was the teacher mad? His whiskers trembled with fury as he grabbed his ruler and stomped outside.

  What followed was a chorus of wailing.

  Lester lifted his chin to the sky, took a deep breath, and felt delightfully vindicated.

  Unfortunately, the satisfaction didn’t last long.

  During the lunch break, someone burst into the dormitory shouting, “Lester! Brother Lester! Your wife’s come to see you! She’s right outside the academy’s back gate!”

  Startled mid-nap, Lester bolted upright. He shot the messenger a disgruntled glare. Did he have to shout so loud?

  Now the whole academy knew.

  Dragging his feet, Lester turned to see half the dorm trailing him like ducklings, eager for a glimpse of the legendary female warrior. He muttered every prayer he knew—Buddha, Jade Emperor, anyone who would listen: please let his wife behave today, give him a bit of dignity, and keep her hands to herself.

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  He reached the back gate with great reluctance.

  When the door opened, Clara stood there—simple clothes, a blade at her waist, a bow on her back.

  Behind her was an old brown horse, its fur patchy with age. At the sight of Lester, it snorted angrily. Clara patted its side in warning, and the horse quieted down.

  “How’s life at the academy treating you?” she asked with a smile.

  Her head tilted slightly, and her eyes swept past him to the gaggle of young men peeking from behind the gate. Unfazed, she raised a hand and greeted them, “Hi!”

  The boys blushed and scattered, whispering among themselves in excitement.

  Lester rolled his eyes. He ignored them and instead pointed to the horse. “Where’d that come from?”

  “Bought it,” Clara said cheerily. “The magistrate sold me his old warhorse for cheap. It may be aged, but old horses have their strengths. With a bit of training, it’ll serve just fine.”

  She sounded positively delighted. After all, she’d snagged a tall Western-breed horse for only ten taels of silver.

  And in the market, any good-sized horse like that would go for forty or fifty taels at least. Even the smallest ones wouldn’t go for less than twenty.

  Then it hit Lester—she’d completed the bounty mission. She got the reward!

  His demeanor changed instantly. With exaggerated concern, he circled her. “Wife, are you hurt from fighting those bandits?”

  Clara shoved him away. “I’m fine. Killing’s easier than farming, honestly.”

  That bizarre comparison knocked the breath out of Lester, but knowing how much she hated beating around the bush, he asked directly, “Did you get the bounty?”

  She nodded and glanced toward the nosy classmates peeking from behind the gate. With a finger, she beckoned him closer.

  Lester leaned in, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

  Clara whispered, “Not your business. Stay focused on your studies. I’m heading home. Don’t forget the task I gave you. Do it well, and there’ll be something in it for you.”

  With a pat on his shoulder and a quick smile to the gawking faces, she led her horse away.

  Lester exhaled a deep breath of relief. Thank the heavens—she didn’t embarrass him in front of his peers today.

  Only… he’d just spent the morning badmouthing her. Now it looked like he’d made it all up.

  Still, she said he’d get a reward later—what kind of reward?

  Lester’s brows twitched with excitement. Moments ago, he looked like a kicked puppy. Now, he hummed his way back to class.

  “Lester!”

  Someone called out suddenly.

  Lester turned with a grin—then lit up. It was Scholar Pan!

  He’d been trying to find a way to connect with the county’s elite. Never imagined they’d come to him.

  He hurried over, only for Pan to ask, “Are you the husband of the heroine who took King Howler’s head?”

  Lester froze for a split second, then puffed out his chest. “Indeed I am.”

  Did it matter who earned the glory? They were husband and wife—it all counted.

  No law said only wives could bask in their husbands’ accomplishments. Why not the other way around?

  He embraced the role with ease. Riding the fame of his warrior wife, Lester quickly earned a place among the scholars.

  Clara had no idea he was networking so boldly. After leaving the academy, she headed straight for the horse market to buy a saddle for her new steed.

  She’d received a hundred taels in bounty—the magistrate had paid without delay. Clara, ever tactful, took the money and left, declining the invitations of wealthy merchants and letting the officials bask in their glory.

  The horse was her real reward for knowing when to step back.

  Don’t let the bald patches fool you—her old brown horse just had a bit of skin trouble. A few packets of medicine from the vet and he’d be good as new in a month.

  With ninety taels still jingling in her pocket, Clara felt the sweet promise of middle-class comfort just on the horizon.

  She spent two taels on a quality saddle, then swung by Manager Fan’s restaurant to pick up two portions of his best meat dishes.

  Only then did she hop on her horse and head home at a leisurely pace.

  Now with a hundred and two taels in hand, her mindset was entirely different from when she first arrived in town.

  Planning her expenses as she rode, Clara felt for the first time like a woman who’d worked her way to the top.

  (End of Chapter)

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