“Taiji, why hasn’t that princess arrived yet? Are the Southern Kingdom’s horses really this slow? We’ve been waiting all morning.”
The young man chewed on a piece of dry grass, lying lazily on the ground with one leg crossed over the other.
Beside him stood a man with thick brows, a high nose bridge, and deeply set features. He wore a dark teal robe, his long black hair tied behind his head with a black silk ribbon. A black beaded headband rested across his forehead. Leaning against a large tree, he pressed his thin lips together, his narrow, deep-set eyes fixed silently on the horizon.
“If you ask me, that Southern emperor is dreaming. He thinks sending over a daughter will bring peace to the realm? Once our Khan finishes uniting the tribes, we’ll crush their city walls and topple his throne.”
Growing more animated as he spoke, the youth punched the air several times.
“They’re here.”
The man narrowed his eyes, cutting off the young man’s fantasy.
A long procession stretched across the horizon—the princess’s bridal convoy, consisting of hundreds of carriages.
“This Princess Qingyang certainly travels in style,” the youth remarked, spitting out the grass stem and shielding his eyes from the sun. “She’s got quite the send-off.”
“Let’s go.”
The man had already mounted his horse and headed toward the city gate. The dozen or so others quickly followed.
Lifting the carriage curtain slightly, Lin Jiayan saw more than a dozen riders waiting at the city gate atop tall black horses. They were presumably the people the Khan had sent to receive her.
She quickly lowered the curtain, adjusted her clothing, and sat upright on the couch with proper decorum.
As the two parties met, the envoy dismounted first and cupped his hands respectfully toward the man.
“Greetings, Taiji. By order of His Majesty Emperor Nanxun, I have escorted Princess Qingyang to Orihe. She has arrived safely—”
Before he could finish speaking, the young man leaped from his horse and stepped onto the princess’s carriage.
“Wait—!”
The envoy’s face paled with alarm, but he was too late to stop him.
The young man threw open the carriage curtain.
Lin Jiayan had been straining to hear the conversation outside and was startled by his sudden appearance.
She wore a magnificent phoenix-embroidered robe woven with gold thread. Against the shimmering golden fabric, a lifelike phoenix spread its wings as though ready to take flight. Precious gemstones and pearls adorned the edges of the robe, radiating brilliance and emphasizing her noble bearing.
The young man froze.
Never before had he seen such a beauty—her skin as fair as jade, her features breathtakingly exquisite.
For a moment, he forgot what he had intended to say and stood there awkwardly.
“Oh no, absolutely not, my lord! This is improper—completely improper!”
The envoy hurriedly pulled the young man away.
“Ajina, back here.”
The mounted man’s expression darkened.
Looking sheepish, the youth retreated behind him.
“The princess has been delivered. You may leave now.”
“But according to protocol—” the court official began hesitantly.
“I said,” the man repeated, his tone hardening, “you may leave.”
Hearing the rustling outside, Lin Jiayan’s anxiety grew.
They’re not seriously going to leave me here alone, are they?
“Lianxin? Lianxin, are you still there?” she called softly to the only familiar person she had.
“Your Highness.”
Hearing Lianxin’s voice outside the carriage, Lin Jiayan let out a relieved breath.
The carriage suddenly jolted violently, making the ornaments in her hair tremble. She grabbed the window frame to steady herself.
The young man and his companions had hitched the carriage to their own horses. With a crack of his whip, they set off at full speed.
These were true steppe warhorses, far stronger than the domesticated horses raised in the Southern Kingdom.
Lin Jiayan felt the carriage lurch forward violently. Her back slammed hard against the wall, and the wheels creaked under the strain.
Compared to this pace, the previous three days of travel had felt like a leisurely stroll across the grasslands.
She was tossed around so violently inside the carriage that her head spun. The jewels and bells in her hair jingled incessantly, and her carefully styled hair came loose, leaving her in a thoroughly disheveled state.
Finally, she gave up trying to maintain her dignity and lay flat on the couch, wishing she would simply pass out.
The carriage raced on for half a day before finally coming to a stop.
Lin Jiayan felt as though her brains had been shaken into a smooth paste. Her head throbbed painfully.
Realizing it was hardly dignified to remain sprawled on the couch, she struggled into a sitting position.
Suddenly, the curtain was flung open.
A tall figure stood in the doorway, backlit by firelight. Through the gap beside him, she could see flickering campfires and moving shadows.
Have we arrived?
The man stared directly at her.
He had never seen such a stunning beauty before.
Her bright eyes and white teeth shone in the firelight. Her slender waist seemed fragile enough to break with a touch. Her palm-sized face was filled with fear, and her wide, almond-shaped eyes looked at him with obvious apprehension.
Her delicate appearance made it impossible to look away.
No wonder Ajina lost his senses after only one glance.
Standing against the light, the man’s features remained obscured, but Lin Jiayan could tell he was exceptionally tall and broad-shouldered. The carriage was too small for him, forcing him to stoop as he approached her step by step.
His sheer presence was overwhelming.
“Y-You… who are you?”
Cornered by his imposing aura, Lin Jiayan shrank back until she had nowhere left to retreat.
The man stopped and lifted the curtain fully, allowing the firelight to illuminate the interior.
Only then did she see his face clearly.
He had a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, and rugged brows. Beneath them, his sharp gaze was as piercing as a hawk soaring over the grasslands.
His features were every bit as commanding as his physique.
“Chahar Alatangadasu,” he said. “Your husband.”
The last two words hit Lin Jiayan like a bolt of lightning. She was so stunned that she failed to remember the long name that came before them.
“Princess! Princess!”
Lianxin’s anxious voice called from outside.
After such a rough journey, Lin Jiayan’s makeup and hair were in complete disarray. They needed to be fixed immediately.
Chahar glanced back at Lianxin before stepping out of the carriage.
“Hurry up.”
Overawed by his imposing presence, Lianxin kept her head lowered. After giving a quick curtsy, she hurried into the carriage.
“Your Highness, let me redo your hair and makeup.”
She helped Lin Jiayan up from the floor and seated her before the bronze mirror.
Only then did Lin Jiayan regain her senses.
The reflection showed pale lips, disheveled hair, and a face that looked as though she had just seen a ghost.
“Lianxin… that man just now…”
“That was your consort, Your Highness.”
Wasn’t he supposed to be around my age?
Are all steppe people built like that?
It felt as though one of his arms was thicker than her thigh.
Lin Jiayan swallowed nervously.
If I try to resist or run away, he could probably knock me flying with a single punch.
“Hahaha, Chahar, did you see your bride?”
“Is the Southern princess beautiful?”
People around them laughed and called out teasingly.
Everyone knew the Southern emperor had been frightened out of his wits by the steppe cavalry and had deliberately offered his most beautiful daughter to the tribe.
Chahar’s expression remained cold.
His father had forced a bride upon him, and he was far from pleased.
His elder brother was already married, which meant the Southern princess could only be assigned to him. No matter how unwilling he was to accept this political marriage, he had no choice.
Thinking back to the woman he had seen in the carriage, he had indeed been struck by her beauty at first glance.
But she was so frail and timid—more delicate than even the rabbits of the grasslands.
How could such a woman possibly become my Taiji Khatun—my princess consort?