CMWKSD -Chapter 226 Opening Day of Camp

Of course, he trusted her—he had to—but that didn’t conflict with his sense of caution. After all, there were plenty of little devils outside. He still had a tiny sliver of anxiety.

…

Opening day of camp.

Jiu Yue borrowed five hundred men from the Ministry of War and immediately surrounded the entire camp.

Coincidentally, today was a day off. The camp was on the outskirts of the city, so the area in front of the gate was packed with carriages and people—some came to see off their children, others came just to watch the spectacle.

The crowd was noisy and bustling until they reached the camp gate. Then, suddenly, silence fell.

No wonder—this place didn’t look like a military camp at all. It looked exactly like a fortified bandit stronghold.

Jiu Yue’s mischievous side immediately kicked in, paying no mind to anyone.

A few adults stood there with dark clouds over their faces, staring at the battalion captain perched on the wall, half his eye covered by a leather eyepatch.

The captain glanced at the crowd below, his face flushing red. He remembered the past Lunar New Year, when all these uncles had come to his house for a drink with his father.

But as they got closer to the gate, no one dared speak.

Rows of glinting weapons. Towering bonfires. Dozens of wooden and iron implements. But except for those with registration papers, parents were not allowed inside. The notice was clear: besides the registrant themselves, no servants or attendants could enter.

“Then who will take care of them? Feeding, dressing, washing…”

Several mothers argued with the gate guards, insisting their children should be accompanied by their personal servants. The young men shrank behind their parents, watching their mothers charge into battle.

Jiu Yue strode out in her black combat outfit, her fierce aura sweeping over everyone. The mothers instantly fell silent.

“If you can’t even handle trivial matters like feeding and dressing yourself, why are you here at a special training camp?”

She looked at the few grown men cowering behind their parents.

“Go home and crawl into your mother’s arms to nurse!”

Though everyone knew Jiu Yue was the princess, even they felt the words were coarse. The mothers felt their ears burn, outraged.

“Princess… how can you speak like that?”

Jiu Yue didn’t waste words and just glanced at Shaoqing.

Shaoqing nodded. “Confirmed—they have registration papers.”

Jiu Yue raised her hand. “Drag them in!”

Everyone: !!!

Drag them in? Drag whom in?

Oh—she meant them!

Heaven help them—they were here as trainees, not prisoners. But at Jiu Yue’s command, the black-clad guards behind her rolled up their sleeves, muscles rippling. The young men’s legs went weak from fright.

The city’s pampered sons and heirs were dragged, kicking and screaming, straight into the camp. One guard could handle two at a time.

The usually dignified young men were now a mess—clothes disheveled, hair all over the place, hardly recognizable as noble youths. They looked more like clay dolls than young lords.

“Parents! Save me! Help me!!!”

“I’m not going! Somebody help! I don’t want to go!!”

The camp gate erupted in screams.

Jiu Yue clicked her tongue. “So noisy!”

As soon as she spoke, she held her whip in one hand. Before anyone could react, it seemed a black rat had darted forward. Then the young lord of the Yongning Marquisate had his feet tied and was hoisted upside down at the camp gate.

“Keep screaming! You’ll end up like him!”

Everyone: !!!

The entire camp fell silent instantly. Only the bonfires crackled loudly on the empty ground.

Those who still resisted began to rethink their stance. Although Jiu Yue had said they had signed a life-and-death pledge, she tried not to actually kill anyone. But looking at this scene… would anyone leave the camp in one piece?

Jiu Yue scanned the crowd trying to shove their children into carriages.

“If you’ve registered your name but haven’t reported in, don’t make me go knocking on doors. You won’t be able to handle the consequences.”

Everyone: …

It felt like being on a runaway ship you couldn’t escape from. Coming wasn’t right; not coming wasn’t right either.

Sure enough—they still didn’t understand Jiu Yue. In her camp, once your name was on the list, you were hers. Just like how the Emperor of Fengyuan had wanted to reward Jiu Yue before but hadn’t done so in time, almost provoking her wrath.

Anyone registered was now a trainee. No exceptions!

Those reporting in later watched the little lord of the Yongning Marquisate swing upside down at the gate, mouth gagged. Tears ran up to his eyebrows, snot ran up his nose, and a guard was assigned to wipe it for him—not out of kindness, but because Jiu Yue found it disgusting.

Was Jiu Yue not smart? On the contrary, she had predicted everyone’s predictions, sending agents from the Dark Moon Pavilion to several main streets simultaneously, beating drums and shouting. Those who hadn’t reported were not slandered—just stated as fact: So-and-so, son of a minister, yes, the one everyone calls “this young lord,” refuses to attend the training camp.

Why?

Because they were afraid. Because they were cowards. Because they weren’t men. Or perhaps… because they were too exhausted after spending the night with courtesans.

It was a total social death across the capital. Even their noble fathers—officials, marquises, or counts—were shamed alongside them.

As for the few who complained to Jiu Yue, sorry. This was different—they had come straight to the emperor and tried to file a report. Skipping the camp would be defying the decree and risking their whole family.

The little lord of Yongning Marquisate, Wen Yu, had been the one who reported Jiu Yue that day. Now, dangling upside down, he was dizzy from the experience, watching people come and go in the camp while realizing the consequences.

Those who had registered but resisted the camp had to come anyway, after the citywide drum-and-bell announcements. They had wanted to challenge Jiu Yue’s authority, but seeing Wen Yu hanging at the gate left them silent.

Even knowing when to bow to circumstance, they had no choice.

Jiu Yue grinned broadly.

“Worth spending those two hundred taels, huh?”

The adults and their children had no words for their suffering.

Meanwhile, the emperor’s desk was now stacked with reports against Jiu Yue, a full person-high—just a few days ago, it had only been half that. Now it had grown to a full height.