The General Says She Won't Marry - Chapter 25 Part 1

When Lin Aoxue left, she was not wearing her military uniform. Instead, she changed into plain clothes and went to the marketplace to buy a few sets of ready-made garments. Only then did she take Yun Yan’s hand and leave Xingbei Pass.

After crossing the pass, they each changed into coarse cloth clothing, disguising themselves as farmers from beyond the frontier. Lin Aoxue carried a shoulder pole, walking side by side with Yun Yan. They chatted and laughed as they followed a narrow path leading away from the pass.

After traveling some distance, they occasionally passed other travelers. Each time, people would subconsciously glance at Lin Aoxue. At first, she paid no attention, but Yun Yan furrowed her brows, pondering the reason.

She turned to look at the mask on Lin Aoxue’s face, hesitation flickering across her expression before she gently suggested, “Aoxue, why don’t you take off the mask? The barbarians are likely familiar with your appearance by now. Wearing it might make you more recognizable.”

The mask on Lin Aoxue’s face was a distinct feature. She had been on the battlefield multiple times and had faced the barbarian armies in combat. Many of them remembered her face. Since they were now concealing their identities to gather intelligence beyond the border, continuing to wear the mask would indeed draw suspicion.

Yun Yan’s reasoning was sound, but Lin Aoxue frowned. She raised a hand to touch the mask, her long hair falling beside her face, partially veiling the complexity in her expression. Seeing her hesitation, Yun Yan couldn’t help but recall their first encounter at Yanyu Tower—how Lin Aoxue had erupted in anger when Yueqin had accidentally touched her mask.

What secret was hidden behind that mask?

Curiosity stirred within Yun Yan, yet she restrained herself out of respect.

Lin Aoxue hesitated for a long time before finally lifting her head. Her gaze was calm, and then, under Yun Yan’s startled eyes, she removed the mask with composure.

Yun Yan held her breath, surprise and disbelief flickering in her gaze.

The once delicate and refined face was now marred by cruel, jagged scars—remnants of burns from searing embers. The sight struck Yun Yan’s heart like a sharp blade.

The scars, deeply ingrained and interwoven, covered almost the entire right side of Lin Aoxue’s face. Without the mask, her features appeared even more severe. In the broad daylight, the scars were already striking, but if one were to encounter her in the dimness of night, it would be easy to mistake her for a vengeful spirit.

As a healer, Yun Yan had seen countless injuries—many far worse than Lin Aoxue’s. So after the initial shock, she quickly regained her composure, her brows knitting slightly as genuine sorrow filled her eyes. “What happened…” she murmured, stepping forward and reaching out as if to touch Lin Aoxue’s cheek. But the latter instinctively turned her head aside, prompting Yun Yan to sigh helplessly. “When did you get this injury?”

Only then did Yun Yan realize why Lin Aoxue had always been indifferent to whether her arrow wounds would leave scars. A young woman bearing such disfiguring wounds must have long since abandoned any concern for her appearance. She likely never imagined that one day, she would expose this side of herself to others.

“It was when my parents died.” Lin Aoxue lowered her gaze, stiffly turning her face away, as if by instinct, trying to hide the scarred side of her face.

Yun Yan’s heart ached.

The women of Yanyu Tower cared deeply about their looks—even the smallest scratch would send them into days of lamentation.

Though Lin Aoxue was far from delicate like those women, she was still a young woman who once valued her appearance. She had endured years of harsh words and cruel stares.

At this moment, Yun Yan felt a deep sense of guilt. She had been too thoughtless—why had she asked Lin Aoxue to remove the mask? For Lin Aoxue, this was nothing short of cruel.

No one would willingly expose their wounds to the world.

Lin Aoxue’s face grew paler, and she bit her lip before hesitantly asking, “Is it… very ugly?”

She felt deeply uneasy, lacking the composure she had shown when removing the mask before Beichen Long. Yun Yan was beautiful—exquisitely so. If Lin Aoxue had been unscarred, perhaps she could have mustered the courage to meet her gaze.

But now, the scars on her face filled her with shame.

The ugly burn scars brought her endless pain, forever etching into her memory the raging inferno that consumed her family estate that day—the blaze that claimed the wrongful lives of over a hundred souls. It seared her hatred into her very flesh, branding it upon her face like an unerasable mark.

Removing the mask felt like stripping away the disguise she had worn for years, peeling off her cold, hardened shell and the strength she had pretended to possess.

Yun Yan froze for a moment before suddenly snapping back to her senses. Without hesitation, she opened her arms and pulled Lin Aoxue into a tight embrace. “It’s not ugly,” she said. “Don’t be afraid.”

Her voice was soft as she comforted Lin Aoxue. She realized then that all the fierceness Lin Aoxue displayed was merely a fragile defense—a mask to hide her fear. She looked fierce and unapproachable, but deep down, she was sensitive, cautious, and delicate.

Her warm and gentle words fell like a spring drizzle, washing over Lin Aoxue’s parched and wounded heart, sending ripples across its surface.

Lin Aoxue’s rigid posture gradually softened. Her lowered gaze concealed the tender and intricate thoughts flickering within her. Yet, the moment Yun Yan looked up and met her eyes, those thoughts swiftly disappeared without a trace.

“Don’t be afraid. I will help you,” Yun Yan looked at Lin Aoxue’s pale, expressionless face and repeated her words.

Lin Aoxue pressed her lips together, unsure of how to respond.

Yun Yan took her by the hand and led her to sit on a nearby rock. Then, she pulled out a small jar of ointment from her travel pouch and, under Lin Aoxue’s tense gaze, began applying it to her face.

A whole incense stick’s time passed before Yun Yan finally smiled in satisfaction. She then pulled Lin Aoxue to a nearby clear pool of water, guiding her to look at her reflection.

Lin Aoxue was long accustomed to her own appearance. Aside from the sorrow she had never quite gotten used to, she rarely felt anything when she saw her reflection. But seeing Yun Yan’s enthusiasm, a tiny ember of anticipation ignited in her heart despite herself.

She swallowed nervously before cautiously leaning forward.

A familiar face appeared in the still water—but Lin Aoxue froze in shock, her eyes widening in disbelief.

She didn’t know what Yun Yan had done, but the grotesque scars that once covered nearly half of her right cheek had been concealed. Only faint traces remained at the edges, barely noticeable unless one examined her closely.

Her features were delicate and refined, and without the disfiguring scars, her face carried an understated beauty. It overlapped slightly with the youthful visage she remembered from long ago—yet at the same time, it had changed, belonging now to a completely different person.

Lin Aoxue was utterly stunned. She jerked her head up, staring wide-eyed at Yun Yan, who was smiling with pressed lips. She opened her mouth to speak but struggled to form a coherent sentence.

“How…?” She bit her tongue several times before finally managing to ask, “How did you do this?”

Yun Yan didn’t keep her in suspense. She leaned in, carefully inspecting the remaining faint scars at the edges while contemplating further solutions. Then, she playfully winked at Lin Aoxue and smiled. “I know the art of disguise.”

To prove her point, she turned away and began working on her own face. When she turned back, aside from the familiar charm in her eyes, her appearance had completely changed. The strikingly beautiful Yun Yan had transformed into an unremarkable village woman—ordinary and unassuming, utterly different from before.

Lin Aoxue’s mouth fell open. She had heard of the art of disguise before but had never learned it herself. Master Hongming believed it to be an unorthodox skill and forbade her from studying it.

Back when she was a beggar on the streets, her horrifying burn scars often subjected her to curses and scorn. In the dead of winter, she frequently went hungry. After Master Hongming took her in, her mind became consumed with revenge. The quiet, sparsely populated temple allowed her to gradually forget the pain that the scars had once brought her.

But once she left the mountain, the world reminded her of it cruelly. People avoided her as if she were a plague. A child running through the streets had accidentally bumped into her. The moment he looked up and saw her face, he burst into terrified wails. His mother hurriedly pulled him away, scolding him but not daring to glance at Lin Aoxue again.

At that moment, Lin Aoxue happened to stop in front of a small stall selling masks. Amidst the vibrant array of colors, a single, worn mask stood out, its dullness making it seem out of place. Yet, Lin Aoxue was drawn to it immediately. She asked the vendor to cut it into half a mask, left some silver as payment, and then disappeared into the bustling crowd.

Once she put the mask on, it became like a part of her, never to be removed again.

Yun Yan’s versatility exceeded Lin Aoxue’s imagination. She stared at Yun Yan’s smiling face in a daze, feeling as though a storm was raging within her. Just as Yun Yan had said before—far from being a burden, she had once again come to her rescue.

Lin Aoxue felt momentarily lost. Slowly, she reached out, hesitantly touching Yun Yan’s face. At the unexpected contact, Yun Yan’s eyes widened in surprise, but before she could react, Lin Aoxue quickly withdrew her fingers as if burned. A fleeting trace of panic flashed in her eyes, but she forced herself to remain composed as she murmured, “So, such miraculous skills truly exist in this world.”

Yun Yan didn’t notice Lin Aoxue’s unusual reaction. Instead, she beamed at the compliment, her face lighting up with delight. “This is hardly a miraculous skill—just a trick of deception. If we have enough time in the future, I’ll try to find a way to remove your scars completely. Would you like that?” She gently held Lin Aoxue’s arm, coaxing her with soft words. After all, no girl would willingly live her whole life with a face marked by scars.

But Lin Aoxue no longer cared much about her scars. Removing the mask and facing Yun Yan directly had allowed her to overcome the hardest hurdle. Her heart, too, felt lighter because of it.

She thought to herself—if there was truly someone in this world so gentle and meticulous, someone worthy of her trust, perhaps that person was Yun Yan.

Every soft-spoken word Yun Yan uttered, every gentle smile, every lively glimmer in her eyes—little by little, she was pulling Lin Aoxue out of the mire she had long been sinking in.

Lin Aoxue couldn’t quite understand the emotions surging inside her at this moment. Instinctively, she tried to suppress and evade them, only for a different kind of unease to rise in their place—a fear that her bloodstained hands would taint this pure and unblemished lotus.

Yun Yan, Lin Aoxue silently repeated the name in her heart. She was willing to try, just a little, to open a window in the walls she had built around herself. She would conceal the unspeakable secrets buried within her and approach Yun Yan with genuine kindness. Even if it meant risking getting hurt.

But then, isn’t that what it means to be human? There are always those inexplicable reasons that give people the courage to move forward. If she had never met Yun Yan, perhaps even she herself would have forgotten what she was once like.

“…Alright,” she answered softly.

She had no real hope, nor did she truly desire to change her appearance. But since Yun Yan wanted to try, she thought—perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try as well.

Yun Yan’s radiant smile was infectious. For the first time in a long while, Lin Aoxue’s lips curled into a faint smile, her softened expression catching the sunlight. In that moment, she seemed to resemble the person she once was, even if just a little.

***

They left the forest and soon arrived at a nearby village. Because it was close to Xingbei Pass, the roaming barbarian soldiers had not yet reached this place. The villagers were busy with the autumn harvest, and golden stalks of grain were piled high in the fields.

After briefly scouting the village’s surroundings, they continued on their way, heading toward a place even farther beyond.

The two traveled a hundred miles before finally discovering traces of the barbarian invaders in a remote mountain. In a village reduced to ashes, charred corpses littered the ground. Lin Aoxue led Yun Yan cautiously into the ruins, searching for signs left behind by the barbarians.

Yun Yan accidentally stepped on a wooden plank, and from the gap beneath it, a bloodied, mangled hand slipped out. Startled, she turned and instinctively threw herself into Lin Aoxue’s arms. Lin Aoxue held her close, whispering reassurances before using the tip of her foot to push aside the scorched wood, revealing a curved blade belonging to one of the barbarians still embedded in a corpse.

Circling the village, Lin Aoxue determined that the barbarians hadn’t gone far—wisps of smoke still curled from the scorched bricks, their heat yet to dissipate.

Yun Yan turned to Lin Aoxue and asked what they should do. At their current speed, how could they possibly catch up to the barbarian cavalry?

Lin Aoxue let out a soft chuckle, murmured, “Forgive me,” and then, without hesitation, scooped Yun Yan up in her arms.

Yun Yan let out a startled cry, instinctively wrapping her arms around Lin Aoxue’s neck. Lin Aoxue avoided meeting her gaze, her expression impassive, though her body was rigid with tension. Fighting to suppress her nerves, she followed the trail of hoofprints at a swift pace, heading deep into barbarian territory.

At first, Yun Yan felt uneasy, but when she realized that Lin Aoxue was even more nervous than she was, she relaxed and began to laugh. She let Lin Aoxue carry her, enjoying the sensation of traveling hundreds of miles without lifting a foot.

***

For two days, Lin Aoxue carried Yun Yan, following the barbarian cavalry’s tracks while carefully avoiding their scouts. Those she couldn’t evade, she silently eliminated. After days of pursuit, they finally penetrated deep into enemy territory and found signs of scattered barbarian troops.

They tracked the group cautiously, everything proceeding smoothly—until they ran into trouble in a dense forest near the barbarian plains.

Lin Aoxue carried a bundle of firewood on her back, while Yun Yan, disguised as a middle-aged peasant woman in tattered clothes, walked beside her, occasionally picking up stray branches from the ground and adding them to the load.

As they walked, they chatted about mundane village affairs. Suddenly, Lin Aoxue stopped in her tracks. Yun Yan glanced at her in confusion, but before she could react, Lin Aoxue abruptly threw off her bundle, lunged forward, and tackled Yun Yan to the ground.

A sharp whoosh filled the air—several throwing knives embedded themselves in the spot where Yun Yan had just been standing.

Before Yun Yan could fully grasp what was happening, Lin Aoxue had already rolled to her feet, yanked a dagger from her boot, and struck back without hesitation.

A loud clang rang out as metal clashed against metal—a curved blade intercepted Lin Aoxue’s dagger, the impact sending a tremor through her arm.

Lin Aoxue quickly positioned herself in front of Yun Yan, shielding her while engaging the attacker. The sound of steel clashing echoed through the forest as their weapons struck each other in rapid succession.

It was Yun Yan’s first time witnessing Lin Aoxue battle a barbarian up close. She was astonished by Lin Aoxue’s speed and precision—her attacks were ruthless and efficient. Despite the enemy’s formidable skills, he was no match for Lin Aoxue. Wanting to end the fight quickly, she held nothing back. In less than ten moves, her dagger slashed across his throat.

Compared to this, the fight at Yanyu Tower, where she had barely used a fraction of her strength against a few hired thugs, had been nothing more than a game—a skilled warrior humoring children playing at combat.

But just as Lin Aoxue finished off the assassin, another figure leaped from the trees, hurtling straight toward Yun Yan.

The attacker was a shadowy blur, his curved blade gleaming with a deadly chill. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Yun Yan. The sun reflected off the blade’s edge, momentarily blinding her. Instinctively, she shut her eyes.

Lin Aoxue reacted instantly. Spinning around, she coolly lifted her arm and, with a precise flick of her wrist, sent her dagger flying toward the attacker’s vital point—forcing him to defend.

Sensing the incoming blade, the black-clad figure twisted his body mid-air to avoid the fatal strike. In that fleeting moment, Lin Aoxue seized her chance, launching forward and positioning herself in front of Yun Yan just as the enemy’s second strike was about to fall.

Yun Yan heard the dull sound of a blade piercing flesh, followed immediately by the hot splatter of blood on her face.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Terrified, she opened her eyes and saw Lin Aoxue’s slender figure standing in front of her. A sharp curved blade had pierced through Lin Aoxue’s side, its tip emerging from her back.

Lin Aoxue’s face was deathly pale, yet her expression remained indifferent. With the blade still lodged in her waist, she calmly reached out, gripping the assassin’s wrist and squeezing tightly.

A sickening crunch sounded as the assassin’s wrist bones shattered, drawing a scream of agony from his lips. Lin Aoxue seized the moment—her fingers jabbed into his eyes. As he staggered back, clutching his face, she took a step forward, flicked her foot to lift the dagger that had fallen to the ground, and in one fluid motion, drove it straight into his chest.

“Go! Now!”

Lin Aoxue yanked the curved blade from her waist, pressing a hand to the wound as she urgently urged Yun Yan to leave.

Yun Yan snapped out of her shock, her face flashing with panic. She hurried to Lin Aoxue’s side, supporting her by the arm, about to check her injury when Lin Aoxue raised a hand to stop her. “We need to find a place to hide first.”

Lin Aoxue pressed hard against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. Yun Yan helped her along, the two stumbling away from the scene. After covering some distance, they found a concealed cave and took refuge inside.

Once inside, Yun Yan immediately wanted to examine Lin Aoxue’s wound, but Lin Aoxue stopped her again. “Check outside first. Make sure there’s no blood trail.”

Yun Yan knew the situation was critical—one misstep could draw the barbarian army to them. Though she hesitated for a moment, she ultimately followed Lin Aoxue’s advice, stepping outside to erase their footprints and any traces of blood.

Leaning against the rough cave wall, Lin Aoxue fought against the searing pain radiating from her wound. The agony was bone-deep, keeping her mind painfully alert despite her exhaustion.

Panting heavily, she analyzed the ambush. The enemy’s scouts were far sharper than she had anticipated. Even though she and Yun Yan had disguised themselves, the sparsely populated area had made them stand out. The barbarians, operating on the principle of “kill first, ask later,” had locked onto them.