The late‑autumn rain carried threads of chill. After noon, the heavy clouds that had pressed down for days finally dispersed, and by dusk a few rays of the setting sun shone upon the caravan crossing into the northern frontier.
Yan Hui lifted her gaze to the sky outside the window, a trace of wistfulness flickering in her eyes. From the imperial capital to the northern border; from bustling cities to desolate lands. Her purpose was simple: to seek her husband.
How laughable.
She recalled her departure from Bianjing and her uncle’s words. Her clear eyes darkened.
“I have no choice. My position today is thanks to your aunt’s family. Your younger sister is her darling. The marriage with the Li family cannot be delayed. Ah Hui, take this as your uncle’s plea—marry into the Li family in her stead.”
“But the betrothal was with my younger sister. If the Lis discover the truth, how am I to face them?”
“When the engagement was made, no name was specified—only that it was a daughter of the Wang family. You are also a daughter of our house. Even if the Lis complain to the court, they dare not act against you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Ah Hui, I know you are strong‑willed. But think of your younger brother’s future! Do not ruin his prospects for the sake of your pride.”
Yan Hui found it bitterly ironic. Orphaned, she was now a pawn for her brother’s career. Her eyes fell on the genealogical scroll of the Li clan, foremost among the northern families. A trace of impatience crossed her brow. She knew well: her uncle would not dare insult the Lis so openly without imperial sanction. The more she thought, the clearer it became—serving the ruler was like serving a tiger. The Li family had won great merit for the dynasty. None could replace them. The war had barely ended when the Lis, invoking the late emperor’s marriage decree, sought a bride from the Wang family of Bianjing. It was the emperor’s own command. Yet the Wangs dared to deceive with a false match.
Without imperial approval, they would never have had the courage. As for why the court allowed it, Yan Hui chose not to dwell.
“Miss, there’s a post station ahead. By the route, we should reach Yuncheng in ten days.” The voice of her attendant, Suiqiu, came from outside the curtain.
“Very well.” Yan Hui’s reply was followed only by the rumble of wheels over shallow ruts. Her face still showed the weariness of long travel. She straightened, lifted the curtain, and looked out. Golden sunset lit her features, and at last her lips curved into a smile unseen for long.
Suddenly, the thunder of countless hooves rose in the distance, dust billowing.
Yan Hui saw figures closing in from all sides—wild men like those from storybooks. Instinctively, she dropped the curtain.
“Whoa!” The driver’s voice trembled with fear.
The northern frontier was said to be unsafe, with Turkic raiders everywhere.
Yan Hui pressed her lips together. Could she truly be so unlucky as to encounter them now?
“Who are you? Why have you entered the northern border?” The rough voice made her pause. It did not sound like the fierce Turks.
“We are ordered by the court of Bianjing to escort the daughter‑in‑law of General Li to Yuncheng.”
No sooner had the capital accent fallen than another voice, mocking and playful, rang out: “General Li’s daughter‑in‑law? Second Brother, your bride from Bianjing has arrived.”