"Why did you stop me?" Zuo Xunxiao stepped in front of Murong Jin, blocking her path. "Jin, your life shouldn't be ruined like this." What he'd done wasn't born from drunkenness; he knew exactly what he was doing.
"And if I hadn't? You would have tried to kill him?" Murong Jin's eyes were cold as she stared at the man who had fought by her side for years. "Zuo Xunxiao, my life is not your affair."
"I can't watch him destroy you."
"It is my affair to manage," she snapped, her voice rising. "Remember that, Zuo Xunxiao. Stay out of it."
"Jin." He gripped her shoulders. A woman this brilliant, a general who commanded thousands—she couldn't be thrown away on a degenerate like Xue Liulan. She deserved to be cherished.
Murong Jin took a deep breath and pushed his hands away. "I know you mean well. But this is my fate. My duty as a daughter of the Murong family. Forget me, Zuo Xunxiao."
"Never."
"Then you will only bring yourself pain." Her words were cold, but they had to be. For the sake of their friendship, for the sake of the feelings he held for her, she could not let him invite disaster upon himself. She didn't know what kind of man Xue Liulan truly was, but she knew the politics of the capital were merciless.
A carriage pulled up in the distance. A steward hurried toward them, bowing. "Young General."
"Go home," Murong Jin said, relieved to see it was the old Zuo family steward.
The old man didn't recognize her, but he could feel the authority radiating from her, an aura that seemed to eclipse even his own young master's.
"Zuo Xunxiao has had too much to drink," Murong Jin instructed. "See that he stays out of trouble."
"Yes, my lady."
"Jin, I won't give up," Zuo Xunxiao said, standing ramrod straight, his voice filled with grim conviction. "If Xue Liulan destroys you, I will destroy him."
"Young General, you mustn't speak such things!" the old steward gasped in horror. The Fifth Prince's reputation was poor, but he was still a prince. Such words were treason.
Murong Jin kept her back to him. After a long moment, she spoke. "Do not make an enemy of him."
"You'll help him?"
"I will," she answered, her voice like steel. "The matter is settled. Do you think I, Murong Jin, would allow anyone to bully my husband?"
The word struck Zuo Xunxiao like a physical blow. Husband. A thousand arguments died in his throat, choked by that single word.
"Fine," he laughed, a sharp, broken sound. "Fine!" He turned abruptly and walked away, his back growing smaller in the distance.
Only when his footsteps faded did Murong Jin turn to watch him go, a long sigh escaping her lips.
I'm sorry, she thought. But it's the only way. To protect you, you must let me go.
In a private suite at the Yichun Courtyard, Xue Liulan lounged on a divan, watching a woman prepare tea. Die Man, the most famous courtesan in Jindu, was a vision even in profile, her movements graceful and serene.
"What are you looking at?" she asked without turning her head.
"A beautiful scene," Xue Liulan said, rising with a smile. He walked to her side and picked up a freshly poured cup, inhaling its fragrance. "Good tea. It mixes well with the scent of your hands."
Die Man smiled. "Will you ever grow tired of your silver tongue?"
"Do you dislike it?" He took a sip, then set the cup down, his arm sliding around her waist.
"It's not me you have to worry about," she said, her voice low and serious. "It's your new fiancée. Marrying the general… it changes the game entirely. A woman like that, with an army at her back—she's a variable we can't predict."
"Her? You think I can't handle her?" He straightened up, dismissing the thought. "Ah Man, is that what's really bothering you? The plan?"
A blush crept up her cheeks. "You saw right through me."
"Tell me."
"A general from the frontier is not a court lady we can easily manipulate," she said, her brow furrowed. "I heard what she said at the palace gates. That she wouldn't let anyone bully her husband. She's fierce. And fiercely loyal. Are you certain this is the right move?"
"And you aren't fierce?" Xue Liulan chuckled. "If it came to a real fight between you two, my money would be on you."
"This is different. She is the officially decreed princess consort."
"Enough of that for now," he said, pulling her into an embrace. "Don't worry. I won't betray your heart."
She nodded, resting her head against his chest, but the worry in her eyes did not fade.
Murong Jin sat at a table by the window on the second floor of the Chengyue Residence. She'd ordered two jugs of their finest wine. Below, the streets were bustling with life, a noisy, vibrant chaos. It was a world away. A world she could never be a part of.
She still wore the gown from the palace, the peach blossom still tucked behind her ear. Leaning on her elbow, she stared out the window, a solitary, beautiful figure.
"Well, look what we have here. A real beauty."
A group of burly men crowded her table. One of them plopped down in the seat beside her.
Murong Jin turned, her eyes cold. "I don't want trouble. Get lost."
"Feisty little thing, isn't she?" the man laughed, completely undeterred. "I like it." He reached a grimy hand toward her face.
"You're asking to die," she snarled. Her hand shot out, clamping around his thick wrist like a vise. In a blur of motion, she hooked her leg around the stool and sent the man flying.
She sat back down, the hem of her gown settling around her with a cool, deadly grace.
The four other men stared, stunned. None of them had even seen her move.
"What are you idiots waiting for?" the man on the floor roared. "Whoever takes her down gets to keep her!"
Lust overriding fear, the four men surged forward at once. The other patrons in the restaurant held their breath, certain the girl was done for.
Murong Jin let out a cold laugh. She had faced down armies. What were a few thugs?
"You picked the wrong day to cross me," she said.
The words were followed by screams. In seconds, all four men were on the ground—one with a broken wrist, another with a dislocated elbow, and two with shattered shins.
"Who… who are you?" the leader stammered from a safe distance. "Give us your name if you dare!"
Murong Jin calmly took her seat. "My name is Murong Jin," she said, her voice carrying across the silent room. "Lord Murong Jin of Yuling."
A collective gasp went through the crowd. This slender woman was the legendary General Murong?
The thug's jaw dropped. "You…"
"What?" she asked with a slight smile. The smile didn't reach her eyes. "Want to try again?"
"If he tries again, he'll be dead."
Xue Liulan's voice drifted up from the stairs. He ascended slowly, a mocking look in his eyes. "Still here? Harassing a general is one thing, but the penalty for harassing a princess consort is death. I suggest you leave."
Murong Jin watched him, then turned to the waiter. "Two large bowls."
As the thugs scrambled away, the crowd of onlookers dispersed. Xue Liulan walked to her table and sat down, picking up the bowl she had filled with wine.
"Impressive," he said. "A true general. Just promise me you'll show some mercy after we're married."
"The item," she said, holding out her hand.
He paused, then pulled a letter from his sleeve and placed it in her hand. As he did, his fingers brushed against the calluses on her palm.
She unfolded the letter. Her eyes scanned the page, from top to bottom. Her expression never changed, never wavered. Only the shadows in her eyes deepened.
"Burn it when you get back," she said, folding it neatly. She pushed it across the table toward him, then picked up her wine bowl and drained it in a single motion.
Xue Liulan took the letter, his eyes on her profile. After a moment, he smiled. "Still don't believe it?"
"That is my father's handwriting."
"Then I will go to the palace tomorrow and discuss the wedding arrangements with the Emperor."
An almost imperceptible frown touched her brow, then vanished. "Fine."
Another full bowl of strong wine went down, burning a path through her.
Xue Liulan's bowl was still full. The jug in front of Murong Jin was now empty.
"Stop drinking," he said, placing his hand over hers as she reached for the second jug. For some reason, her desperate drinking looked less like a celebration and more like a quiet, lonely ritual of grief.
"Let go," she said, shaking his hand off. "Today is the last time I will ever drink like this. The last time I will ever fight like this. What business is it of yours?"
"The last time?" he asked, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "I won't try to restrain you."
"But I cannot bring shame to the Murong name." Another bowl went down, so fast she choked, and tears welled in her eyes. The tears weren't for the wine. They were for the general she was leaving behind. Because tomorrow, she would cease to be just herself. She would become a wife.
Xue Liulan watched her, and for the first time, said nothing.