Yu Jin Chang An - Chapter 10
This absurd answer left Li Shuang utterly dumbfounded. Her sharp retort died on her lips, her fierce expression crumbling into wide-eyed shock.
“You… what did you just say?”
The Jade-faced Rakshasa—rarely unsettled—found herself flustered.
“Marry me,” the black-masked man repeated, as though he hadn’t realized he had just uttered something earth-shattering.
“Preposterous!”
Snapping back to her senses, Li Shuang threw his collar away as though it had scorched her palms.
“Preposterous?” His voice remained calm, his eyes steady on her. “Why is it preposterous? Marriage means entrusting yourself to another, staying together until death parts you. Entrust yourself to me. I will protect you. I want to stay with you until death, never parting.”
He spoke with such sincerity, as if he were merely discussing the weather. But the words—solemn vows usually whispered in moments of passion—rolled off his tongue without hesitation. Li Shuang found herself both exasperated and, unwillingly, a little moved.
Moved? By a fool? Who else but a madman or a simpleton would propose after meeting twice? Unless… he had a hidden purpose.
“Enough of this nonsense.” Her voice chilled as she tried to wrest control of the conversation. “I asked how you knew these matters. Answer honestly, otherwise—”
“Otherwise you’ll arrest me? Interrogate me?” His gaze softened, almost wounded, as though he couldn’t understand why she treated him so harshly.
For the first time, Li Shuang’s hand trembled while dealing with a man she might very well brand a spy.
“You don’t want to marry me?” he asked again, leaning closer.
That slight step forward carried the weight of a storm. Li Shuang instinctively stepped back, forcing herself to maintain a frosty glare. “Marriage is settled by parents and matchmakers, not by reckless whims. Your origins are hidden, your face still masked, and yet you dare speak of marriage? Stay back.”
Unable to bear the closeness, she pushed him away.
He yielded easily, but when his hand brushed the place she’d touched, he lingered there as if holding onto her warmth. His gaze lowered, soft and tender, brimming with unspoken emotion.
It was the same look he’d given her when saving Li Ting from the pit.
That gaze… almost as if she were someone he had known and cherished. For a fleeting moment, Li Shuang wondered if she had forgotten something—perhaps a lover in the northern frontier?
“If I show you my face,” he asked quietly, “will you marry me?”
Each word was spoken so naturally, so seriously, that Li Shuang’s sharp tongue faltered. She, the famed Rakshasa General, found herself stunned into silence.
“You—”
“General?”
Qin Lan’s voice cut through the grove. Li Shuang turned instinctively, and in that heartbeat, a gust of wind brushed past her. When she turned back, the black-masked man was gone.
Her heart jolted. His movements were impossibly swift, his mastery of lightness skill far beyond her own.
“General?” Qin Lan’s voice rose again, tinged with urgency.
“I’m here,” Li Shuang replied evenly, masking her turmoil.
Qin Lan exhaled in relief. “General, are you unharmed?”
“Mm.” She stepped toward him, pulling her damp hair into a rough coil.
This—this was how a proper man behaved. Standing with his back turned, not daring to glance her way. Respectful. Predictable. Safe.
“Why did you come?” she asked.
“The guards reported the General left camp alone at night. I feared for your safety. When I heard voices in the grove, I dared not intrude and could only call out.”
“There was a libertine causing trouble.” Li Shuang’s tone was clipped.
Qin Lan stiffened, then turned his head slightly before quickly looking away again. Her hair was still wet, water trailing down her neck into her collar. “Was the General harmed?”
“Nothing serious.” Fetching her horse, she added, “Have you investigated whether any frontier tribe bears flame tattoos on their chest?”
“No such tribe beyond the frontier,” Qin Lan replied, then hesitated. “The libertine—was it that black-masked man?”
Li Shuang was startled by his quick guess. “Yes. But his speed outstripped mine. He escaped.”
“Strange,” Qin Lan mused. “The young master said he was gravely injured after saving him, yet now… he seems completely recovered?”
Li Shuang frowned. That day, she had seen his hands slashed to ribbons, his back pierced by blades. Yet tonight, not even scars remained. His movements were too fluid, too whole.
By ordinary reckoning, his wounds should have left him incapacitated. But he had healed too quickly.
A man with extraordinary skill, unnatural recovery, a secretive identity, and knowledge of her every move… only one person came to mind. Jin’an.
Their shared flame markings suggested a deeper connection—perhaps the same tribe, the same sect. Perhaps Jin’an was not only passing camp information… but information about her.
“Is Jin’an still in the Imperial Guard Camp?” she asked.
“He was asleep when I left,” Qin Lan answered.
“Bring him to me for questioning tomorrow,” she ordered.
Back at camp, the night was silent, most soldiers deep in sleep. Li Shuang paused by the Imperial Guard Camp, questioning the sentries. No, no one had left. If Jin’an was indeed involved, his martial skill wasn’t enough to slip past so many guards.
But the masked man… he could.
Li Shuang’s brow furrowed. If the stranger wanted information, Jin’an would be far more useful alive and embedded than taken.
Resolved, she turned toward her quarters.
But just as she lifted the tent flap, a sentinel’s alarm split the night.
“Western Rong army! Enemy forces crossing the border! Enemy attack!”
The stillness of the frontier shattered. Beacon fires blazed across the wilderness, hooves thundered in the distance, and Changfeng Camp exploded into chaos.
Li Shuang’s expression hardened.
“All troops, to arms! Form ranks!”
The northern land trembled as her voice cut through the night. Winter had come early, and with it—the war she had most dreaded.