When Han Linfeng read Lord Li’s secret letter, his expression turned grave. After a moment, he summoned a row of unmarried young men from the camp, looked them over one by one, selected several who seemed suitable, and without saying much of anything, simply ordered them to escort him back to the Beizhen Prince’s Household in Liangzhou.

By the time Han Linfeng returned, it was the dead of night.

The insistent pounding on the gate roused the entire household.

Luoyun had come to dread nothing more than a knock at the door in the deep of night — always fearing it heralded terrible news from the front. She jolted awake at the sound, sat bolt upright, and told her maid to quickly go and see what was happening in the front courtyard.

But the maid had barely thrown on her outer robe and stepped out of the courtyard when Han Linfeng himself, dusted in night frost, was already striding in with urgent steps.

Luoyun stood at the doorway with her robe draped over her shoulders and caught sight of him just as he entered the courtyard.

His expression was troubled, but his body bore no obvious injury — and with that, half the weight on her heart lifted. She gathered her loose hair and asked: “What happened? Why have you come back at this hour?”

Han Linfeng reached into his robe and produced the letter, handing it to Luoyun.

She unfolded it and read. It was written in Lord Li Guitian’s own hand.

The letter was dressed in polite, surface-level pleasantries, but its essential meaning was to offer congratulations that the Beizhen Prince’s Household was soon to welcome a joyous occasion — the Emperor had already shortlisted candidates among the imperial kinswomen for the marriage alliance, and the Beizhen Prince’s Household’s young commandery princess was considered the most likely selection.

Lord Li’s purpose in writing the letter was of course not some witless act of congratulation — he was using roundabout language to warn the Beizhen Prince’s Household in advance.

The Iron Foe people were rough and savage in their ways, their customs and habits utterly unlike those of the Wei people. Women sent into such alliances in the past had mostly lived short lives, and if relations between the Iron Foe state and the Wei court were ever to take a turn for the worse, the woman given in marriage would be the first to bear the consequences — her life would be forfeit.

By sending this advance warning to the household, Lord Li hoped that those who had done him kindness could find a way out for their daughter before the imperial edict arrived.

After all, Lord Li had been present as a witness when Han Yao’s engagement was dissolved, and he had seen clearly how the girl had been wronged by the Junguo Ducal House.

If the young commandery princess were now to be designated for a marriage alliance, that truly was the cruelest fate — a gentle young life crushed before its time — and he could not bring himself to stand by without a word.

Luoyun was anxious at once. “There are so many imperial kinswomen — how did this land on our sister-in-law?”

Why else? When one looks for the softest target, naturally that is where one strikes.

Among all the imperial kinsmen’s households, there was none with a weaker position than the Beizhen Prince’s Household. And as it happened, Han Yao had just had her engagement dissolved — making her conveniently available.

Furthermore, judging by Lord Li’s letter, the Junguo Ducal House appeared to have had a hand in maneuvering this along — most likely still smarting over the way the Beizhen Prince’s Household had refused to spare their dignity during the dissolution of the engagement, and now seeking to vent some of that frustration by arranging misfortune for the girl.

But dwelling on such things now was useless. Luoyun asked urgently: “What do we do? If Han Yao is married off to the Iron Foe King, her life is over.”

Han Linfeng said in a low voice: “I have already selected several young men of appropriate age from the camp. Tomorrow I will ask Father Lord to look them over as well, and they can marry at once. Even if the edict truly arrives in a few days, I can still present a plea to His Majesty — after all, there is no precedent for compelling an already-married woman into a marriage alliance.”

Luoyun felt uneasy about this, but could think of no better solution in the moment.

Han Linfeng immediately went off in haste to discuss the matter with Lord Beizhen.

Lord Beizhen read Lord Li’s letter and felt as though he had been struck by lightning — his face went dark with fury.

That the Emperor, if he had any care for his loyal subjects at all, should not be tasking the descendants of the Sacred Virtue Founding Emperor with such a role — those ancestors who, when surrounded at Qiutai by the Iron Foe, had never once spoken of surrender or capitulation.

To now ask the descendants of that sacred emperor to be sent into a marriage alliance — what bitter irony.

Yet Lord Beizhen’s deliberations ran somewhat deeper than his son’s: “You’re rushing to find your sister a husband in such haste, matching a commandery princess with camp soldiers — won’t that raise His Majesty’s suspicions? Imperial grace cannot simply be refused. There is no escaping this. Perhaps it is Yao’er’s fate, and she must simply accept it.”

After saying this, he called for the Senior Consort Wang, for Han Yao, and also for Luoyun, and closed the doors — the family gathering behind closed doors to deliberate.

Of course, they could not reveal too much detail to the women, and could not disclose Lord Li’s name — only mentioning that word had reached them through certain channels that Han Yao’s name had appeared on the list of kinswomen being considered for selection.

The Senior Consort Wang had barely heard the beginning before she felt the words strike her like a thunderbolt, her body swaying as though she would faint.

The greatest regret of her life was having been married out to this remote borderland, and everything she had ever yearned for was to see her daughter marry back into the capital. Now fate had mocked her — Heaven was actually going to send her poor child into a foreign marriage. With her dreams shattered in an instant, the Consort almost wished she could die on the spot.

Han Yao herself was completely stunned, rooted where she stood, until Luoyun drew her close with an arm around her shoulders — and only then did she begin to sob.

Han Linfeng looked at his sister’s stricken face and said: “Don’t be afraid. As long as I am here, I will never let you go into a marriage alliance.”

These words landed like a calming stone thrown into still water, and the Consort and Han Yao both steadied at once.

Yet Lord Beizhen knit his brows and glared at his son: “Do not act rashly. This is an imperial edict. Would you defy it and implicate the entire family?”

Han Linfeng said gravely: “If the price of our family’s safety is selling off a daughter, then such safety is worth nothing. Let it go.”

These words were clearly too impulsive, and they ignited Lord Beizhen’s temper. He raised his hand to give his son a blow.

Under ordinary circumstances, Han Linfeng would have accepted it. But this time he reached out and caught his father’s wrist, and at the same time said: “This matter — I will arrange it. Father Lord need only know the intention. If anything goes wrong, I will bear the consequences myself, and will not drag the family into it.”

He then laid out his plan: to see Han Yao married first and deal with the rest afterward.

The Senior Consort Wang now bitterly regretted not heeding Luoyun’s advice sooner and arranging an engagement for Han Yao earlier. Now, trying to find a suitable match on such short notice — the other family might not even be willing to cooperate at such speed.

The only option now was to pick the best of a poor lot, and see whether Han Linfeng’s subordinates contained anyone halfway presentable.

So at daybreak the next morning, under the pretext of inviting subordinates in for tea, Han Linfeng brought several of the candidate “prospects” into the reception hall.

The Senior Consort Wang and Han Yao observed from behind the room screen in secret.

At this point the Senior Consort Wang had stopped caring about appearance — yet if not appearance, she at least needed to consider family background.

As she looked from one to the next, consulting the brief notes on background and origins Han Linfeng had written down, she could see at a glance that every single one of them was impoverished and of humble origin. How could her daughter possibly marry into any of those circumstances?

Han Yao peered through the screen at the row of young men — every one of them dark-skinned and rough-hewn — and felt her heart sink. She slipped away quietly to the side chamber.

Seeing that Luoyun had followed, Han Yao flung herself into her arms at once and wept — and then said to Luoyun that perhaps she should simply shave her head and enter a convent after all.

Luoyun consoled her: this was an imperial edict — it was entirely beyond any individual’s will to resist. How could shaving her head possibly hold it off?

Han Yao knew her sister-in-law was right. Gritting her teeth, she said: “If His Majesty still presses the matter, then I will hang myself.”

At these words, the Senior Consort Wang — who had just come back from the reception hall — flew into a rage, scolding her daughter fiercely for being heartless and selfish — dying herself may feel clean and easy, but it leaves a catastrophe for the entire family to deal with.

If Han Yao could not find anyone among those prospects, she might as well wash and dress herself and go to the Iron Foe as the alliance bride. If she was going to die, she could die over there in the Iron Foe’s camp.

This time, hearing her mother deliver such a harsh ultimatum, Han Yao did not retreat against the wall as usual.

With death on the horizon regardless, there was no more reason to hold back even with her mother. She hardened her voice and said: “Sister-in-law told you early on to arrange a match for me, and you refused — you kept holding out for some household in the capital that might need a daughter-in-law. Well, fine — your future son-in-law is the Iron Foe King. Very impressive. Are you satisfied now?”

The Senior Consort Wang had not expected her always-gentle, always-accommodating daughter to suddenly bite back so sharply. She was so furious her head began to throb, and she called for a rod to be brought to discipline Han Yao on the palms.

Han Linfeng had exchanged only a few perfunctory words with the candidate subordinates before slipping away to the side chamber to ask his sister’s opinion — but the moment he stepped through the door it was utter chaos.

He raised an eyebrow at the sight of mother and daughter both weeping in their separate corners, and asked Su Luoyun: “Were my subordinates really so terrible-looking that they made them both cry themselves ugly?”

Su Luoyun could only shake her head helplessly and have the maids escort the mother and daughter each back to their own rooms to calm down.

In the past, Han Yao had half-jokingly told her: as long as she didn’t have to marry the Junguo Ducal House’s Third Young Master, she would be willing to marry any ordinary soldier from her brother’s camp. It was a case of words spoken in jest coming true. Yet now that the moment had arrived, she was resisting with everything she had — and if this continued, there would be no path left except the distant Iron Foe lands.

But it was less than half an incense stick’s time before Luoyun learned the reason for Han Yao’s fierce resistance.

She had just managed to coax the Senior Consort Wang’s temper down and was making her way toward her sister-in-law, when she turned a corner along the winding corridor of the rear garden and caught the sound of voices coming from behind a secluded artificial rock formation near the western corner.

“You cannot go. The new Iron Foe King is already past forty — he could be your father. And he is known for savage cruelty — they say he has killed many captive women.” A young man’s voice, urgent and distressed.

Then came Han Yao’s voice, thick with tears: “I’m not planning to go on living anyway. But Mother says even if I die, it had better be inside the Iron Foe camp. Since this may be the last time we meet… please don’t come again after this.”

At those words, the young man grew more agitated: “That won’t do. The edict hasn’t even arrived yet — and your brother can’t just pick some random husband for you. If it truly comes to that — I — I’ll marry you myself.”

Luoyun stood hidden in the shadow of the corridor, jaw slightly dropped. She was still debating whether to intervene when someone swept past her like a springing leopard.

The corner of her eye caught that it was Han Linfeng. Her heart sank immediately. This is bad. She hurried after him at once.

When she rounded the rock formation, she found Han Linfeng gripping a young man by the collar and hauling him off the scholar tree that grew on the other side of the wall — like someone lifting a kitten off a branch.

Han Yao stood on this side of the wall, perched on top of a ladder, with something of the air of a young lady peering over a garden wall.

Luoyun looked closely at the unfortunate young man being dragged down — it was none other than Young General Zhao Guibei.

He was still clutching two sugar figurines in one hand, and strapped to his back was a long-tailed kite of the kind only found in Huicheng. It was clear the young general had been visiting his mother in Huicheng and had stopped to buy some novelties along the way to bring as gifts.

In truth, this was not the first time the Young General had delivered gifts over the wall.

Since Princess Yuyang was no longer staying at the Beizhen Prince’s Household, he had lost any proper pretext for coming through the front gate with presents.

One time, he had found a spinning lantern that Han Yao particularly liked, bought it, and noticing there were trees near the back courtyard of the household, had tried climbing one — only to happen upon Han Yao out walking in the garden.

From that point on, the two of them had quietly arranged a schedule, meeting in secret every few days.

This time as well, Zhao Guibei had gone to Huicheng to visit his mother, picked up something to bring the young commandery princess, and found Han Yao with eyes swollen and red from weeping, which immediately filled him with frantic alarm and prompted him to ask what had happened.

Having heard the whole story, Zhao Guibei was blazing with barely controlled fury — the moment he imagined Han Yao being forced into a marriage alliance, he wanted nothing more than to draw his saber and charge straight into the Iron Foe camp to cut the Iron Foe King down, eliminating the threat at its source.

As for Han Yao — although she and Zhao Guibei had been meeting privately for some time, neither of the two young people had felt anything improper about it, nor had they thought of it as a clandestine arrangement between a young man and woman.

After all, they had never spoken of love or romance the way young men and women do in story-books, let alone stolen any kisses or taken each other’s hands. It was entirely two good young friends freely sharing small things — exchanging little gifts, talking in private, and both finding it genuinely delightful.

And so today’s intended farewell scene between the two young friends had barely gotten past a few sentences when Han Linfeng came bearing down on them like a demon, yanking Zhao Guibei off the tree in one motion.

Han Yao hadn’t even registered what was happening, and stood dazed on the ladder, looking around in confusion, calling out: “Brother — you’ve misunderstood.”

Zhao Guibei was somewhat shaken from the fall and was about to get up when Han Linfeng planted a kick that sent him back to the ground: “Misunderstood what? Weren’t you luring my sister into pledging herself to you in secret?”

Han Yao scrambled down from the ladder and began stamping her embroidered shoes in agitation: “He — he was just so worried about me that he blurted out some desperate idea. He got carried away — he was just carried away, that’s all.”

But Zhao Guibei looked up with reddened eyes and said with conviction: “I genuinely intend to marry her.”

Han Yao’s jaw dropped all over again. She wanted nothing more than to clap her hand over his mouth. “You fool — are you trying to get yourself beaten by my brother?”

Han Linfeng looked at Zhao Guibei’s candid sincerity, gave a slight nod, and with a wave of his hand, had Qing Yang and his men escort the Young General into the ancestral shrine — and Han Yao was pulled in by her brother as well.

Luoyun, afraid of what might happen, told the two nearby servants not to breathe a word to anyone, then hurried in after them.

The two young people knelt side by side before the memorial tablet of the Sacred Virtue Emperor. Han Linfeng said in a measured voice: “What angers me is not the two of you meeting in secret. What angers me is that Han Yao, you were too loose-tongued — you disclosed the household’s private matters to an outsider. A friend of mine in the capital risked considerable danger to send us a warning, precisely because he could not bear to see the descendants of the Sacred Virtue Emperor reduced to being sent to a foreign land. But the moment this information leaks outside the household and implicates my friend — do we not become people of no honor, who repay trust with ruin?”

As he spoke, Han Linfeng stepped forward to the altar table and in one motion drew the sword of the Sacred Virtue Emperor from its place.

Han Yao gave a start of fear and flung herself in front of Zhao Guibei, her voice tight: “Brother — he absolutely will not say anything outside. You — you cannot kill someone to silence them.”

Su Luoyun, standing inside the shrine, felt her heart tighten as well, unable to guess what Han Linfeng intended.

Han Linfeng brushed Han Yao aside with one hand, pressed the tip of the sword against Zhao Guibei’s throat, and asked: “How many times have you met my sister in secret?”

Zhao Guibei’s face flushed deep crimson: “Including today — three times in total.”

Han Linfeng continued, expression unreadable: “If I were to say that you met my sister secretly and lured her into a private arrangement — do you admit to that?”

Zhao Guibei’s eyes reddened. He actually pressed his neck slightly forward toward the sword tip and said firmly: “Yes. The fault is mine. The young commandery princess bears no responsibility.”

Han Linfeng gave a nod. “Good that you admit it. Then let me ask you this: when you said you would marry Han Yao — were those the words of someone deceiving a naive young girl, or a man’s word that carries the weight of nine sacred tripods?”

Zhao Guibei looked at the girl beside him, her cheeks still damp from weeping, and made up his mind: “They were my sincere and true intention. As long as Lord Beizhen and the Consort agree, I will inform my own father and mother and properly come to take Han Yao as my wife.”

Han Linfeng said: “Word is that His Majesty has already drafted the edict. Do you know what price you would pay for marrying my sister?”

Zhao Guibei’s gaze did not waver for a moment. He said without hesitation: “I know. It would mean disrupting His Majesty’s marriage alliance plan. But I am unwilling to let Han Yao be sent there. Even if His Majesty were to condemn me to death, I would still marry her.”

Han Linfeng gave a slow nod. Then, without warning, he tossed the sword aside, swept back his long robe, and knelt before Zhao Guibei — bowing his head to the ground with full gravity.

Zhao Guibei was so startled he reached out immediately to stop him. “Young Lord — what is the meaning of this?”

Han Linfeng said with full solemnity: “Under ordinary circumstances, what you have done would be a stain on my sister’s honor, and I would never let it pass lightly. But at this particular moment, knowing the full weight of what is at stake, you are still able to speak and say you are willing to marry her — that makes you the savior of both my sister and this household. On behalf of my father and mother, I thank the Young General for his profound righteousness, and for his willingness to take her as his wife.”

Zhao Guibei broke into a wide grin: “Then — does this mean the Young Lord agrees?”

Han Yao stood off to the side looking somewhat dazed at the two men kneeling in front of each other, and nearly said she refused to get married.

But then Zhao Guibei turned to look at her, and the bright happiness shining in his eyes made her face go faintly warm. She lowered her head quickly and pretended she could not hear what they were saying.

Han Linfeng clasped his hands and said: “Only — matters of marriage must still be discussed with your father and mother. And this matter involves the safety of a friend in the capital. Until this affair is resolved, you cannot leave, and you absolutely cannot tell your father about His Majesty’s intention to designate a bride for the alliance.”

Though who would be selected as the marriage alliance bride was not a military secret, if word leaked out and things went awry, His Majesty would certainly trace the matter and hold Lord Li Guitian responsible. For Lord Li Guitian’s sake, Han Linfeng could not yet release Zhao Guibei.

Zhao Guibei, who held loyalty and honor above all else, nodded at once: “I understand. Even after the marriage, I will not tell my father. If anything truly goes wrong, I will bear it alone.”

Han Linfeng reached out and helped Zhao Guibei to his feet. His voice was steady and calm: “There is no need for you to bear it alone. I will make all necessary arrangements. Only — for this marriage to proceed, the Young General must first… write a letter of confession.”

Zhao Guibei scratched the back of his head and said without a moment’s hesitation: “That’s about me climbing trees to see Han Yao, right? Fine — bring the paper and brush.”

What followed was rather merry. Beneath the gaze of the Great Wei Sacred Virtue Emperor’s portrait, the future brother-in-law guided his future sister’s groom through the composition of a written confession detailing how he had lured and courted the young commandery princess. The two men pored seriously over every word and phrase, with all the gravity of candidates sitting an imperial examination. In the end, Zhao Guibei put his name and mark to it with cheerful willingness.

Han Yao, listening from the side, felt her ears burning so hot she had to be pulled away by Su Luoyun back to her room.

Han Linfeng folded the document away carefully. With this in hand, he would have proper grounds to speak with General Zhao Dong about proceeding with the marriage without delay.

Besides — if Han Yao were to marry Zhao Guibei, what came next would be far more manageable.

After all, if Han Yao were hastily married off to some common soldier, the mismatched social standing would look suspicious, and it might easily reach the Emperor’s ears as a deliberate act of defiance against his wishes.

Finding some other noble family’s son on such short notice for an impromptu marriage would be entirely impossible.

But marriage to Zhao Dong’s only son — that was natural, sensible, and appropriate in every respect. A match of equal standing.

Zhao Guibei was an unmarried young man with no heir, sent to the front lines — to marry while at the front and leave an heir for the Zhao family was something Great Wei military law explicitly permitted, giving no one any grounds for objection.

Most importantly, Han Linfeng had also observed that these two young people clearly had genuine feelings for one another. Being given in marriage to someone whose heart was in accord with her own was always better than being hastily paired with some random man found in a barrel.

Seeing Han Linfeng detain Zhao Guibei within the household, Su Luoyun had already half-guessed his thinking. When the two of them returned to their own room, she said: “You were rather too harsh on the Young General earlier.”

It had clearly been a matter of apprehending a young fool, yet he had handled it like the interrogation of a criminal. The Young General had actually drawn a bead of blood from a graze of the sword against his throat — her heart had been in her mouth the entire time, terrified that that straightforward, earnest young man would be so overcome with shame from Han Linfeng’s questioning that he would throw himself onto the sword tip in a fit of remorse.

Han Linfeng loosened his robe and finally permitted himself to lie down on the bed for a moment. He pulled Luoyun into his arms and said: “What did I say wrong? Was he not luring my sister?”

Luoyun had a sudden revelation. “So that is what luring looks like. Now that I think about it — back when I lived on Tianshuixiang, there was also always someone perching on top of the wall of my house. I clearly didn’t understand it was improper at the time. I just stood there like a fool, without righteously chasing the scoundrel away.”

Han Linfeng looked at his wife taking a roundabout route to needle him, and responded with perfect gravity: “We were neighbors — being close to a neighbor is entirely natural. Even if I was perching on a wall, it was my own wall on my own side of the property. How can that young fellow possibly be compared to me?”

Luoyun suppressed a very strong urge to roll her eyes at this shameless logic. Truly, the rules never seemed to apply to the one making them.

But what occupied her thoughts more was this: if Zhao Dong truly consented to this improbable match, then — what about Princess Yuyang?

She and Princess Yuyang had now broken off their private friendship. If the consequence was that Princess Yuyang looked unfavorably upon Han Yao, wouldn’t that be exactly the same as marrying into the Junguo Ducal House?

But from a man’s perspective, the question of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law dynamics clearly did not register as a primary concern: “If Zhao Guibei is a man, he will naturally protect his own wife. What matters most right now is sidestepping the marriage alliance issue. If Princess Yuyang makes things difficult for her, we can simply have her stay at home with us for a while until things settle, and then she and Zhao Guibei can formally separate if needed.”

In Han Linfeng’s view, the Zhao family was the best shield available for deflecting the Emperor’s designated match.

As for separating and remarrying afterward — for a woman from a common household, that would be extraordinarily difficult. But for a commandery princess of a prince’s household, a separation later on would still be far better than being sent far away to the Iron Foe, reduced to a bargaining piece in a game played between two nations.

Su Luoyun could not help taking issue with this: “In my case, I am not permitted to keep so much as a private savings pillow, let alone harbor even half a thought of separation. Yet when it comes to your sister, there isn’t even a marriage contract drawn up yet, and you’re already plotting how to use someone and then separate? How is that fair?”

Han Linfeng sat up at this, reached out, and pinched her pert nose: “And just what kind of man do you think you married? Do you think I’m dead? What other nonsense is rattling around in that head of yours? Pour it all out — let me have a look.”

Luoyun was caught between laughter and indignation: “I was still blind when I married you — how was I supposed to see what sort of man I was getting? I can only hope our sister-in-law has better luck than I did, and doesn’t get stuck with an adhesive plaster she can’t peel off… Ouch—”

Before she could finish the sentence, that very large and incorrigible adhesive plaster had already pressed itself down on her with considerable force, pinning her in place: “Look who’s talking. Let’s see whether this plaster sticks properly enough for you…”

Han Linfeng had grown considerably leaner from the constant front-line fighting, all sinew and hard muscle — yet on a man like him, it only added a quality that was at once potent and disarming.