The General Says She Won't Marry - Chapter 39 Part 2

Lin Aoxue, however, didn’t see the warmth in Yun Yan’s gaze. Her own anxious thoughts consumed her, making her oblivious to the deep emotions hidden in Yun Yan’s eyes. Placing the empty bowl on the bedside table, she reached out hesitantly, her fingers trembling as she carefully loosened Yun Yan’s collar.

She had done this before, earlier in the day, but this time, everything felt different.

It was as if something inside her had been awakened. The act itself was ordinary, yet it sent her heart into disarray, leaving her thoughts in complete turmoil. Guilt, unease, and a restless yearning tangled together inside her. She tried desperately to suppress the emotions surging through her, forcing her hands to steady as she peeled away Yun Yan’s clothing.

The sight beneath made her heart clench painfully.

Yun Yan’s smooth, jade-like shoulders were marred by brutal whip marks. The wounds stood out starkly against her pale skin, each scar a glaring testament to the pain she had endured. The lashes extended downward across her slender back, five deep wounds crisscrossing in jagged lines. Three of them had reopened due to the strain of her movements earlier, fresh blood seeping into her white underclothes, staining them with dark red splotches.

Lin Aoxue felt as though something inside her was twisting and cramping with pain. She bit down hard on her lip to keep herself from being overwhelmed by the wave of sorrow and anguish rising in her chest. Even so, her face visibly paled.

Yun Yan, unable to see her expression, only sensed the sudden stillness in Lin Aoxue’s movements. The silence stretched on for a long moment before she turned her head slightly, her voice gentle as she called out, “Aoxue?”

Lin Aoxue jolted back to reality. She bit her lip so hard she nearly drew blood, her hands shaking as she hurriedly reached for the medicine jar on the table. Scooping out some ointment with trembling fingers, she carefully applied it to Yun Yan’s wounds.

Yun Yan’s back shuddered lightly at the touch.

“Does it hurt?” Lin Aoxue’s voice was hoarse as she asked.

Yun Yan’s answer was a lie. “It doesn’t.”

“That’s impossible,” Lin Aoxue whispered. “Your injuries are so severe… How could it not hurt?”

Yun Yan let out a soft chuckle. “If you already know the answer, why ask?”

Lin Aoxue fell silent, saying nothing more. She focused on applying the ointment with painstaking care, ensuring every wound was treated properly. As she worked, she hesitated before asking, “Will these scars fade?”

Logically, she knew such deep wounds would leave marks, but she also remembered that Yun Yan had medicine capable of preventing scarring. That was the only reason she dared to ask.

Yun Yan turned her head slightly to look at her, eyes brimming with laughter as she responded gently, “It’s just my back. No one will see it. Does it really matter if the scars remain?”

Lin Aoxue was at a loss for words. She pressed her lips together tightly, hesitation and struggle evident in her eyes.

That aggrieved expression again. Yun Yan sighed inwardly—she truly had no way of dealing with Lin Aoxue. Her armor was flawless, leaving no gaps to exploit.

But just as Yun Yan was about to give an answer in resignation, Lin Aoxue suddenly spoke. “I don’t want it to scar. It would make me feel awful.”

It was rare for Lin Aoxue to express her emotions so directly. Yun Yan was stunned for a moment, then a smile bloomed on her face—radiant and bewitching, like a red lotus under the summer sun.

“If no one applies medicine for me, then it will definitely scar,” Yun Yan said playfully, blinking mischievously.

Lin Aoxue’s head shot up, eyes filled with surprise and joy as she blurted out, “Then I’ll apply medicine for you every day until it’s healed.”

Yun Yan laughed, her heart brimming with happiness as she readily agreed, “Alright.” Without hesitation, she threw herself into Lin Aoxue’s embrace. Just as Lin Aoxue panicked and tried to step back, Yun Yan quickly added, “If you move, my wounds will split open again.”

Lin Aoxue instantly froze, as if struck by a pressure point, unable to move a muscle.

She held Yun Yan in an awkward posture, carefully avoiding the wounds on her back. After a long hesitation, she finally asked, “How did you get these injuries?”

Nestled in Lin Aoxue’s arms, Yun Yan felt drowsy. The pain had kept her from sleeping well in recent days, and the many affairs entangling her had made it impossible to rest. Her body was already reaching its limit. Now, leaning against Lin Aoxue, she felt a rare sense of peace, and sleepiness crept over her.

But just as she was about to drift off, Lin Aoxue’s question jolted her awake. She blinked, tilting her head slightly to gaze at the unmasked side of Lin Aoxue’s face. Under the candlelight, her soft features glowed with brilliance. Yun Yan shifted her head slightly closer to Lin Aoxue’s shoulder before answering, “I made a mistake. My father beat me for it.”

Lin Aoxue’s brows furrowed tightly, a sharp glint flashing in her eyes as she growled in anger, “How could he?! How cruel must one be to strike so viciously?”

Seeing her so outraged, the smile on Yun Yan’s lips deepened. She gazed at Lin Aoxue’s clean-cut profile before suddenly asking, “Aoxue, will you avenge me?”

Lin Aoxue hadn’t expected such a question. She was momentarily stunned, lowering her gaze to meet Yun Yan’s. There was warmth in Yun Yan’s eyes, but the slight curve of her lips carried a trace of pain—so much so that Lin Aoxue felt as if her heart was bleeding, the sorrow spilling onto the floor, with no one there to pick up the pieces.

Lin Aoxue’s breath hitched. She swallowed hard, her gaze wavering as she murmured, “But… he’s your father…” She hesitated, struggling to understand the emotions at play. What could have caused such an irreconcilable rift between blood relatives?

“What if I said I hate him?” Yun Yan said softly. “Do you think these five lashes are all he’s ever given me? Not every father loves his daughter.”

She had never spoken of her deepest wounds to anyone before. But Lin Aoxue was different. Even though she hadn’t yet fully entered Lin Aoxue’s heart, even though they were not yet of one mind, she couldn’t suppress the emotions surging within her. Because from Lin Aoxue, she had found something no one else had ever given her.

And right now, she wanted more of that warmth—something that could bring her peace.

Lin Aoxue stared into Yun Yan’s eyes. Yun Yan still smiled, but beneath that smile lay a grief so profound that it made Lin Aoxue tremble. Instinctively, she blurted out, “I will. If you hate him, then I’ll take revenge for you.”

She hadn’t even avenged her own grievances, yet she was already thinking of avenging Yun Yan’s. She didn’t even ask who was right or wrong.

Because to her, anyone who hurt the person in her arms—no matter who they were—was in the wrong.

At that moment, she suddenly stopped caring about Yun Yan’s identity or the positions they stood on. Yun Yan’s vulnerability and pain stirred something in her, making it impossible to remain indifferent. If the environment Yun Yan was in was causing her such torment, then Lin Aoxue would do everything in her power, exhausting all possible means, to save her from it.

Lin Aoxue’s words were like a ray of warm sunlight, unexpectedly breaking into Yun Yan’s heart, silently melting the frost that had long encased it, revealing the softest and most genuine fragility within her.

Tears welled up in Yun Yan’s eyes, gathering so quickly that they overflowed uncontrollably. She had forgotten how long it had been since she last cried. Crying was the most vulnerable expression of emotion—it laid bare one’s weakness without reservation. That was why she never allowed herself to cry in front of others, not even when alone. She had always suppressed it, refusing to acknowledge her own fragility.

Until now.

Lin Aoxue’s domineering yet gentle words surged into her heart with unstoppable force, taking root there, never to be removed.

She raised her arms and wrapped them around Lin Aoxue’s neck. In Lin Aoxue’s startled and flustered gaze, she buried her face into the soft curve of Lin Aoxue’s neck, rubbing against her warm skin like a child. Tears streamed down, soaking into Lin Aoxue’s collar—and into Lin Aoxue’s heart as well.

“You’ve said it now. You can’t just walk away from it.”

Yun Yan’s voice was light, thick with sobs, muffled as if shrouded in mist. Lin Aoxue didn’t quite catch it and lowered her head to ask, “What did you say?”

Yun Yan tightened her embrace and suddenly let out a teary laugh, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

Lin Aoxue found her reaction a little puzzling. Tilting her head in thought, she then asked, “You still haven’t told me—who is your father?”

Yun Yan didn’t lift her head. Instead, she nuzzled against Lin Aoxue’s embrace like a kitten. She was exhausted from crying, drowsiness creeping in, her voice growing softer and softer.

“You’re not ready yet. When you become a general, I’ll tell you…”

In the end, Lin Aoxue never got an answer, because Yun Yan had already fallen asleep.

Lowering her head, she gazed at the sleeping Yun Yan, holding her gently. In slumber, Yun Yan’s features were soft and peaceful—this time, she wasn’t plagued by dreams. There was even a faint smile at the corners of her lips.

Lin Aoxue reached out and wiped away the last teardrop clinging to Yun Yan’s lashes. Supporting her, she carefully laid her down, tucking the blanket over her before picking up the medicine bowl and quietly leaving the room.

***

To take better care of Yun Yan’s injury, Lin Aoxue hadn’t returned to the inn. She calculated the time Beichen Ling’s subordinate had mentioned about the army’s departure—it seemed she could still stay with Yun Yan for a few more days. At the same time, to avoid causing Yun Yan any trouble, she stayed indoors as much as possible during the day. If anyone saw her, it could needlessly tarnish Yun Yan’s reputation.

She had only returned to the inn twice late at night to gather enough food supplies, which she secretly brought back to Yun Yan’s residence. In this way, she had stayed for nearly half a month.

Yun Yan’s injuries gradually healed. Just as Lin Aoxue had promised, she meticulously applied medicine to her wounds every day without fail. However, after that night, neither of them ever brought up the hurried, desperate kiss again—it became a tacit secret between them.

Every day, countless messenger pigeons flew into Yun Yan’s courtyard, perching outside the window. Lin Aoxue took on the task of retrieving the small bamboo tubes from their legs and handing them to Yun Yan. Never once did she feel the urge to peek at their contents, even though she knew that within those tiny cylinders lay countless secrets—some perhaps deeply unsettling.

She simply passed them along. After reading, Yun Yan would write her replies, which Lin Aoxue then carefully secured onto the pigeons’ legs before sending them off again.

As Yun Yan’s scars began to fade, Lin Aoxue insisted that she apply scar-removal ointment. Yun Yan couldn’t argue against her. Each time Lin Aoxue diligently treated her wounds, her expression was so serious that she never noticed the slow, growing smile at the corners of Yun Yan’s lips.

That day, as usual, Lin Aoxue finished applying the medicine and helped Yun Yan change her clothes. Just then, a sudden knock echoed from the front gate. Lin Aoxue froze and exchanged a glance with Yun Yan, who looked equally puzzled—clearly, she wasn’t expecting any visitors.

After a brief hesitation, Yun Yan motioned for Lin Aoxue to stay inside while she herself got up and walked to the front courtyard to open the gate.

Outside stood a young servant, one Yun Yan recognized—he was from Beichen Ling’s residence.

He bowed politely, then peered past her, trying to glimpse inside the courtyard. Yun Yan’s brows furrowed slightly as she asked, “Who are you looking for?”

The servant bowed again and responded, “May I ask if Qianhu Lin is currently at Miss Yun’s residence?”

Yun Yan was puzzled. How did Beichen Ling know that Lin Aoxue was here? Still, she didn’t immediately turn the servant away. Beichen Ling was always methodical in her actions; she wouldn’t have sent someone without reason. Yun Yan asked, “What does Her Highness need with Qianhu Lin?”

The servant was well-trained and composed, never prying into Yun Yan and Lin Aoxue’s relationship. He respectfully replied, “There is unrest at the northern frontier. The army is departing earlier than expected. The princess sent me to remind Qianhu Lin.”

Yun Yan hadn’t anticipated this reason. She was momentarily stunned before dismissing the servant and swiftly returning to the house to relay the message to Lin Aoxue.

Lin Aoxue had been leaning against the window, flipping through a military strategy book. Upon hearing Yun Yan’s words, she shot to her feet in alarm. According to what Guo Wencheng had told her, there were still three days left before their departure—why had it suddenly been moved up?

In a fluster, she hurriedly gathered her belongings, then, with mounting urgency, climbed over the back wall of Yun Yan’s residence and rushed back to the inn.

As soon as she arrived at the inn, Lin Aoxue wasted no time packing a few more things. She carefully retrieved the golden key she had hidden away, tucking it securely into her bundle.

Just as she was about finished, a knock sounded at the door. Lin Aoxue strode over and opened it to find Guo Wencheng standing outside, his expression carrying a hint of irritation.

“Where have you been these past few days, you brat? I thought you were going to fall behind!”

Lin Aoxue sheepishly scratched her head, quickly explaining that she had been searching for news of a distant cousin, which was why she had been absent from the inn.

Hearing this, Guo Wencheng’s expression finally softened somewhat. He cast a glance around Lin Aoxue’s room before urging, “Hurry up and get ready. One hour from now, meet at the city gates.”

With that, Guo Wencheng left, as he still had to meet with the commanding officer of the army.

Lin Aoxue responded quickly and efficiently gathered her things. She went to settle her bill with the innkeeper, shouldered a small bundle, and hurried toward the city gates.

Outside the city, fifty thousand troops had already assembled. Only a few imperial guards stood stationed at the gates. From a distance, Guo Wencheng spotted Lin Aoxue and waved her over.

As she approached, she noticed a young man clad in golden armor standing beside Guo Wencheng. He had a strikingly handsome face, exuding an innate air of nobility, though his brow carried a distinct arrogance. Lin Aoxue swept her gaze over him and guessed that this must be the Fifth Prince, the one leading the expedition.

Once she arrived, Guo Wencheng introduced her, “Your Highness, this is Lin Aoxue. His martial skills are exceptional.”

Beichen Bo, the Fifth Prince, merely nodded slightly and responded with a nonchalant “Mm,” displaying little interest. Clearly, he wasn’t particularly convinced by Guo Wencheng’s praise.

Guo Wencheng wisely refrained from pressing the matter, and Lin Aoxue showed no sign of displeasure. She simply offered a proper salute to Beichen Bo. Without acknowledging it further, Beichen Bo turned away and said, “Since everyone is here, let’s move out.”

Before Lin Aoxue and Guo Wencheng had even arrived, the army had already completed their pre-departure rites, including their oath-taking and ceremonial toast. The Fifth Prince had no intention of forging bonds with Lin Aoxue or Guo Wencheng—he didn’t even consider them part of his faction.

His cold and aloof demeanor was painfully obvious, and neither Lin Aoxue nor Guo Wencheng was foolish enough to miss it.

Lin Aoxue scoffed inwardly. Beichen He’s judgment of character wasn’t all that great. Or perhaps, Beichen He hadn’t placed much faith in this Fifth Prince to begin with. What Beichen He truly wanted was someone to challenge Beichen Long’s military authority. Who that person was didn’t really matter—what mattered was that they obeyed him.

But with such an arrogant temperament, it was uncertain whether this Fifth Prince could even win the army’s loyalty. Let alone that, it remained to be seen whether he could even survive the northern frontier. Arrogance required the strength to back it up, and Lin Aoxue suddenly found herself curious—once Beichen Bo set foot on the battlefield, would he truly be capable of commanding as his personality suggested?

The thought of having to protect this man under Beichen He’s orders gave Lin Aoxue a headache.

Beichen Bo led Lin Aoxue and Guo Wencheng out of the city. They mounted their horses, and with a single command, the fifty-thousand-strong army began their march toward the northern frontier.

Lin Aoxue gripped the reins and, just before setting off, instinctively turned her head to look back. At that moment, she froze.

Inside the city gates, along the street, a carriage had stopped. The curtain had been lifted, revealing a woman in a red dress sitting quietly inside. The distance was too great for Lin Aoxue to make out her features clearly, but she instantly recognized her. It was Yun Yan.

Yun Yan raised a hand and waved.

The distance between them was too vast for words, yet their gazes seemed to pierce through the space between them, silently intertwining. A surge of sorrow, as turbulent as a flood, crashed over Lin Aoxue’s heart. She nearly lost control, almost stepping forward to go to her, to see her one more time.

Her grip on the reins loosened slightly.

But at that moment, Guo Wencheng called out, “Qianhu Lin, it’s time to go!”

By now, a good amount of time had passed. The rest of the army had already begun their march, leaving only Guo Wencheng, Lin Aoxue, and a few imperial guards at the city gates. Lin Aoxue responded and swiftly mounted her horse.

When she glanced back one last time, the carriage had already lowered its curtain and was slowly rolling away.

A deep homesickness swelled within her, a longing that had lain dormant for over ten years, stirring even before she had left.

But it was not the capital she longed for.

That feeling came from the one inside that carriage.

Wherever Yun Yan was—that was her home.