Yu Jin Chang An - Chapter 9
The next morning, when Li Shuang awoke, she found herself holding little Jin’an. For a moment, she wondered if last night had been a dream.
She had dreamed again of that man—the shameless one who had stolen a kiss on the snowy mountain.
And now… she had actually slept the whole night hugging Jin’an in her arms!
Li Shuang rubbed her temples. Perhaps when she returned to the capital, she really should let her father arrange a marriage.
Cradling the still-sleeping boy, her mind drifted. Who in the capital could possibly be her match—the infamous Jade-faced Yama? He would need courage enough not to faint at the sight of blood. Wit would be useful too, so he could assist with strategy during campaigns. If not clever, then at least strong enough to help her fight side by side. Family background? Irrelevant. Few could compare with her own clan anyway.
…In fact, thinking carefully, that brazen fellow who had taken liberties with her—could he be… suitable?
Startled by her own thoughts, Li Shuang coughed to chase them away. The sound roused Jin’an.
His little hand brushed her throat, his voice hoarse with sleep. “Does your throat hurt?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, sitting up. “After a night’s rest, I should check on camp. You—train well. And remember: never grow arrogant.”
She had resolved then to keep him at her side for life. A child with such gifts, if untaught, could one day endanger the world. But properly guided, he could guard the borders, command Changfeng Camp, and deter the barbarians beyond the frontier.
Obedient as always, Jin’an nodded and left without fuss.
The following days passed peacefully.
When it came time for Li Ting to return home, Li Shuang had expected tears and tantrums. To her surprise, her pampered younger brother behaved properly, bidding farewell with unusual solemnity. He only urged her again and again to take care, and to come home with him and their father once winter passed. Clearly, the northern frontier had forced him to mature.
Li Shuang agreed lightly. Then, remembering something, she called aside the old steward who had accompanied him. The two spoke in low tones, unheard by others—until Li Ting crept up and caught a few words. His eyes widened, and he cried out:
“Sister, you want to get married!”
The shout froze her in place. Soldiers nearby stood ramrod straight, eyes fixed forward, as though they had heard nothing. Only Jin’an stared at her in silence.
Li Shuang’s face darkened. She swung a fist at her brother. “Get lost already.”
Li Ting rubbed his nose sheepishly and scrambled into the carriage. Before leaving, he whispered hastily: “Don’t worry, Sister, I’ll make sure Father finds you someone tall, handsome, skilled in martial arts, gentle, and obedient to you.”
“Scram!”
The carriage rolled away in a hurry, carrying the General’s young master back south.
Li Shuang turned sharply. “Everyone disperse. Back to your posts!”
The men vanished, leaving only Qin Lan behind, as always, to report camp matters.
That night the camp felt oddly empty without Li Ting’s noise. Parched, Li Shuang remembered the hot spring south of Changfeng Camp near Lu City. Deciding to soothe her fatigue, she rode out alone, refusing any attendants.
The grove was silent beneath the winter moon. The spring’s water shimmered, clear and inviting. Li Shuang tied her horse, shed her clothes, and slid into the warmth with a sigh of relief.
Then—a shift in the wind.
She stiffened, clutching her clothes to her chest as she turned.
There, three zhang away, stood the libertine from her dreams.
He did not even pretend to avert his gaze.
Truly a scoundrel! Appearing precisely when she was unclothed!
He stepped closer.
“Stop! Don’t come nearer!” she snapped.
He halted, tilting his head. “Why not?”
Li Shuang flushed with fury. Hugging her clothes to cover herself, she glared. “Shameless rogue!”
“Why shameless?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.
“I am unclothed, and you still advance! How is that not shameless?”
He glanced down at his own bare chest. “I too am unclothed. You look at me—does that not make you shameless?”
His innocent tone made her want to strangle him. Huffing, Li Shuang sank deeper into the spring, intending to put her clothes on underwater.
But in a blur, he appeared before her, seizing the garments. “You can’t soak them. Wet clothes will make you ill.”
Steam curled between them. He wore his black mask still, only crimson eyes and the curve of his lips visible. Moonlight caught the strange red markings on his chest, half-hidden by mist—beautiful, alluring, dangerous.
Li Shuang, however, was far too furious to appreciate it. He was still holding her clothes!
Suppressing her shame, she forced composure into her voice. “Sir, why are you here? What do you intend?”
The masked man studied her flushed face. “Are you angry? Why?”
Why? She was an unmarried maiden, stripped bare in a wilderness spring, seen by a man who wasn’t even properly dressed—why wouldn’t she be angry?!
And yet, memories of that kiss on the snowy mountaintop stirred in her. Her cheeks grew hotter, though rage soon followed. “Men and women should keep their distance! To spy on a woman bathing and still act so righteous—outrageous!”
He blinked, then quietly set her clothes down. “If you don’t like it, I won’t look.” With that, he turned and sat behind a tree, hiding himself completely.
“…”
Now he looked aggrieved. Why did she feel as though she had wronged him?
At a loss, Li Shuang gathered her garments, swam to the far end of the spring, and slipped out beneath the veil of steam to dress swiftly.
Clothed once more, she felt steadier. Crossing her arms, she strode to confront him. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
He lifted his head. His crimson gaze was strange, yet oddly clear. “Do you want to get married?”
Li Shuang stiffened. “How do you know that?”
“I heard it,” he said simply, then added, “I know what marriage means.”
Her brows knitted. “Who told you? Were you spying in my camp?” She grabbed his collar, interrogating him like she would an enemy agent.
Then he spoke again, voice calm, eyes steady:
“Marry me.”
So tranquil, so casual—as if he were merely remarking, Look, the night sky is beautiful.