The General Says She Won't Marry - Chapter 45 Part 2

Lin Aoxue continued to gaze at Yun Yan, and as she stared into those tear-filled eyes, into the unspoken hurt and vulnerability, she suddenly realized what her past fear and cowardice had done to Yun Yan.

She had been selfish—hiding behind the excuse of unavenged vengeance, turning a blind eye to the unwavering sincerity that had always been right in front of her.

She had pushed Yun Yan away with words, yet at the same time, she had done everything in her power to keep her close. Her actions, seemingly gentle but in truth cruel, had tied Yun Yan to her, refusing to let her go. And all the while, she had the audacity to lie—to others and to herself—claiming that she only saw this girl as a sister.

How shameless. How utterly, unforgivably cruel.

Beichen Ji’s teasing words echoed in her mind once more, like sharp blades cutting into her chest, exposing the pathetic secret she had tried so desperately to hide. There was nowhere left to run.

“Yan’er…” She tightened her grip on Yun Yan’s small hand, her expression flustered, her thoughts in turmoil.

Yun Yan, unable to ignore the way Lin Aoxue called her name with such desperation, let out a soft hum in response.

“That… um… you know… w-we are both women… I know I shouldn’t…” Lin Aoxue’s face twisted with distress. Anxiety, fear, and a faint glimmer of hope tangled within her, leaving her emotions in complete disarray.

Back then, in Yun Yan’s small courtyard, Yun Yan had given her an answer once before. But at the time, Lin Aoxue had thought she was only teasing, not entirely serious. She had never been sure if Yun Yan could truly accept her—accept that, as a woman, she selfishly and greedily longed for her.

She had always felt that such feelings, such desires, such domineering emotions were sinful. Wrong.

She feared misunderstanding Yun Yan’s friendship—feared that in doing so, she would tear apart the carefully constructed mask she had worn for so long.

What terrified her wasn’t just having her feelings exposed. It was the fear of revealing her true self and not knowing whether Yun Yan could ever truly accept her.

Yun Yan watched Lin Aoxue’s panicked expression, feeling the way she subconsciously clung to her sleeve, fingers tightening around her wrist with painful strength.

The force of Lin Aoxue’s grip pulled at her shoulder, causing the thin blanket draped over her to slip down, revealing the bandages wrapped tightly around her wound. The strain on her shoulder tugged at the freshly dressed arrow wound, and crimson blood once again seeped through the white gauze, staining it red.

Yun Yan looked deeply into Lin Aoxue’s eyes, her gaze filled with tenderness, lingering and unwavering.

She took a step forward and knelt beside the bed, bringing their faces close.

As she watched Lin Aoxue’s flustered, uncertain expression, she reached out and gently cupped her cheek, her fingers tracing over the uneven scars that marred her face, her eyes misted with emotion.

Under Lin Aoxue’s bewildered, panicked gaze, Yun Yan leaned in.

With Lin Aoxue’s face turned ever so slightly to the side, Yun Yan pressed a soft, tender kiss against her cheek—a kiss filled with all the emotions she had tried so hard to contain.

A kiss that was not forceful, not demanding, but gentle and lingering.

A kiss that gave Lin Aoxue the answer her uncertain heart had longed for.

Their lips barely brushed, but it was as if Yun Yan had kissed Lin Aoxue’s very soul.

This kiss was fundamentally different from the one Yun Yan had given her back in the capital, which had been laced with playful teasing and uncertainty.

“Who says a woman can’t fall for another woman?”

Yun Yan kissed Lin Aoxue, neither lingering nor demanding more. She soon pulled away, her eyes still misty with unshed tears, but her gaze remained fixed on Lin Aoxue’s eyes, unwavering and tender.

Born in a brothel and well-versed in the secrets of both the imperial court and the outside world, Yun Yan understood that love did not only exist between men and women. There were other forms of affection—perhaps unaccepted by the world, but real nonetheless, equally moving and profound.

She felt no shame in falling for Lin Aoxue. If Lin Aoxue shared her feelings, she would only be overjoyed. But she understood the turmoil in Lin Aoxue’s heart, which was why she had never forced her to accept anything. And yet, now that everything had been laid bare, she still wanted to carve out a place for herself in Lin Aoxue’s heart.

Lin Aoxue held her breath. For once, she didn’t blush. She stared blankly at Yun Yan’s delicate face, unconsciously reliving the moment their lips had touched. Yun Yan’s words echoed in her mind, but she couldn’t quite process them. She opened her mouth slightly, dazed, struggling to untangle her chaotic thoughts.

Yun Yan was in no rush. She didn’t urge Lin Aoxue to respond. Her gaze was calm and patient, yet filled with deep, unshakable emotion. It was a look Lin Aoxue couldn’t resist, a look that made her not want to let go.

If she could, she wanted to cast aside all her restraints, to reach out and hold onto the hand that had been extended toward her.

But she hesitated. She was afraid.

She wanted to break free of the chains binding her, yet she feared the weight she carried would one day destroy every bit of happiness she had.

To love and be loved in return, to stay together for a lifetime—such beautiful words.

But to Lin Aoxue, they were as illusory as the reflection of the moon in water or a flower in a mirror. Distant, untouchable. The moment she reached for them, they would shatter.

She was the daughter of the former Nation’s Protector Duke. The hatred she bore, the life she had chosen—disguising herself as a man and infiltrating the military—any of these could lead to her downfall.

Even if she did have feelings for Yun Yan, even if she was unwilling to let go, she could not drag Yun Yan into this storm, forcing her to bear the same risks.

These were words she could never say aloud.

Nor could she ever let Yun Yan know.

And so, despite the tears glistening in her eyes, she still couldn’t bring herself to speak the words buried in her heart.

She took a deep breath, lowered her gaze, and said, “Yan’er, I still have a great debt of vengeance to repay. I fear I may never be able to truly consider my own feelings in this lifetime.”

Hearing this, Yun Yan felt a flicker of disappointment, but not sadness. In the end, for all her fear and avoidance, this timid woman had still given her a response—albeit indirectly.

A soft smile curved Yun Yan’s lips, her expression tinged with both warmth and understanding. She chuckled softly. “I, too, am entangled in countless burdens. Perhaps I was never meant to be so selfish.” The bitterness in her smile gradually faded. Then, the fingers that had been resting on Lin Aoxue’s cheek gently brushed aside a strand of hair from her forehead. She continued, “But what can I do? I met someone like you. You stole my heart, and you made promises. You’re not allowed to run away from them.”

Lin Aoxue’s throat tightened, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions, nearly spilling over.

She didn’t want to let go.

Call her selfish, call her greedy—she wanted nothing more than to bind this girl to her, to never have to worry that Yun Yan’s feelings were fleeting, or that she herself would fail to be responsible.

But she couldn’t.

Lin Aoxue pressed her lips together. After a long silence, a long hesitation, she finally spoke. “Yan’er, I don’t know what the future holds. Maybe one day, I’ll step onto the battlefield and never return. My life is full of uncertainty. Any promise I make to you—I will keep it, for as long as I live. But what I fear most… is that I may not have the right to keep you by my side.”

This time, Yun Yan did not interrupt Lin Aoxue as soon as she mentioned death, as she usually did. She did not offer empty reassurances or contradict her words. Instead, she simply stayed by Lin Aoxue’s side, listening in silence as she continued speaking.

Because this was the first time Lin Aoxue had ever shared the truest thoughts in her heart.

“This year, I’ll turn thirty. By this age, most women are already married with children. But I am still burdened with unfulfilled vengeance and secrets I can never reveal. Perhaps I will take all of this to the grave with me. No—perhaps I won’t even have a grave, only a great fire beyond Xingbei Pass to burn everything to ashes.”

She had seen such endings many times before. It was nothing unusual. No one would grieve for long. If there was anyone in this world who would mourn her, it would be Yun Yan alone.

Lin Aoxue’s voice was calm—no resentment, no anger, no anguish. Yet, this very calmness made Yun Yan’s eyes burn red with sorrow, piercing her heart like a blade.

“Someone like me doesn’t have the luxury of chasing happiness. Just staying alive is hard enough. I don’t even know you that well. Just as I carry deep-seated hatred, you, too, are covered in thorns. We were drawn to each other because of our similarities, and drawn in further because of our differences. I admit it—I like you.”

Lin Aoxue had thought these words would be difficult to say. Yet when they finally left her lips, they felt surprisingly natural.

Yun Yan had waited so long to hear this, yet she did not feel an overwhelming rush of joy. Instead, her emotions deepened, flowing steadily like a river—strong, yet not overwhelming like a storm.

“I, too, want to cast everything aside and experience a love that is truly mine, to reclaim the things I lost. But I can’t.”

Lin Aoxue took a deep breath. As she laid her heart bare, her thoughts grew clearer. At last, she closed her eyes, tightened her grip on Yun Yan’s hand, and sighed deeply before saying, “Yan’er, if one day I finally avenge my family, and you are still unwed, if you still remember the bond we share today, would you be willing to leave behind the chaos of the world and travel the mountains and rivers with me?”

Her words were quiet, without dramatic intensity or flowery confessions.

Yet, they moved Yun Yan more than any grand declaration ever could.

In response, Yun Yan turned her hand over and intertwined their fingers, locking them tightly together.

She gazed deeply into Lin Aoxue’s eyes, as if looking through them into the heart that was gradually opening to her, revealing its truest emotions.

She knew—this was Lin Aoxue’s most sincere wish.

No one could guarantee the future, but holding onto a beautiful hope always made it easier to keep moving forward.

“Lin Aoxue, I will wait for you.”

She did not say, I would. Yet, in those simple words, she infused all the love and longing that burned within her.

Lin Aoxue’s tears fell instantly.

She was not as calm as she appeared.

For thirteen years, since the tragedy that changed her life, no one had ever cared about her wishes. No one had ever spared a thought for her life or death. And yet, how fortunate she was—to have met this woman in the broken fragments of her remaining years.

She didn’t want Yun Yan to wait for her. And yet, selfishly, she couldn’t bring herself to sever this precious connection either.

So she closed her eyes, and from the depths of her soul, a desire stronger than ever before took root.

She would live. Not just for revenge—but for what would come after. For the chance to be with the woman she loved, free of all burdens.

Without realizing it, she tightened her grip on Yun Yan’s hand.

Yun Yan’s smile deepened at the gesture. She leaned in and kissed Lin Aoxue again, softly, gently. From her lips, the kiss trailed to the tip of her nose, then to her forehead, spreading warmth wherever it touched.

“You want to borrow an unknown number of years from me,” Yun Yan murmured with a teasing smile. “So let me take a little interest in advance. But don’t feel like you owe me anything. I don’t want a love born from guilt or self-reproach. I want a whole heart—yours, freely given.” As they parted again, Yun Yan pressed her forehead against Lin Aoxue’s, meeting her gaze. Her red lips moved slightly as she spoke, her voice gentle yet clear.

Lin Aoxue laughed, amused by Yun Yan’s sincerity laced with a hint of teasing. Reflected in her eyes was Yun Yan’s delicate, enchanting face. She answered seriously, “Alright, as you wish.”

The trembling pain in her heart, born from guilt, dissipated entirely with Yun Yan’s words.

Yun Yan stood up, letting go of Lin Aoxue’s hand. She picked up the bowl of medicinal porridge sitting on the bedside, now cooled. Scooping up a spoonful, she tested the temperature at her lips, only to feel the chill of it. With a helpless glance at Lin Aoxue, she scolded her with feigned annoyance, “Look at you, fussing around so much—it’s gone cold.”

Lin Aoxue looked completely innocent. Lying on the bed, she raised both hands in surrender. Though there were still tears in her eyes, the corners of her lips had already curled up into a smile as she said, “You made it? Even if it’s cold, I’ll drink it!”

Now that they had spoken openly, she found herself acting more candidly, even trying to flatter Yun Yan a little.

But Yun Yan was unimpressed. She rolled her eyes dramatically, turned around with the bowl in hand, and walked toward the door. At the same time, she didn’t forget to snap back at Lin Aoxue, “Drink it cold? Do you think your body is made of iron? Stay put and don’t move. I’ll go warm it up, and later, I’ll change your bandages.”

With that, she lifted the door curtain and stepped out.

Lin Aoxue remained lying on the bed, burying her face into her pillow once more. Gripping the corners of the pillow tightly, she felt a wave of indescribable embarrassment wash over her the moment Yun Yan left. She could hardly believe it—she had actually managed to say so many things to Yun Yan without flinching.

“I admit it—I like you.”

That one sentence echoed in her mind like an incantation, making her entire being feel as if it were burning up. Her heart felt as though it might explode at any moment.

How utterly shameless!

Burying her face deeper into the bed, she let out a muffled wail, oblivious to the fact that someone had just entered. It wasn’t until a confused voice called out—

“County Commandant?”

A man’s voice suddenly broke the silence, startling Lin Aoxue. In an instant, all her embarrassment was replaced by alarm. Instinctively, she clutched the blanket tightly around herself and turned toward the doorway.

There stood Lu Sheng, holding a jar of wine in one hand, looking at her with a bewildered expression.

Fortunately, she had wiped all her tears away against the pillow earlier, and the flush on her face had mostly faded, so there was nothing visibly odd about her appearance. She cleared her throat and forced an awkward smile before asking in an overly formal tone, “Lu Sheng, what brings you here?”

Lu Sheng was holding back laughter. It was the first time he had ever seen Lin Aoxue acting like a child, lying on the bed and throwing a little fit. He figured she must have been irritable because she was injured and unable to get out of bed.

So, believing he understood Lin Aoxue’s embarrassment, he carried the jar of wine inside, set it down on the table, and grinned as he said, “Of course, I came to celebrate the boss’ promotion! Congratulations, Lin-dage, on being promoted to county commandant! I went to Fuyun Manor and picked up a fine jar of wine, but I forgot that you’re too injured to drink right now. So, I’ll leave it here, and once you’ve recovered, we’ll have a few drinks together!”

News of Lin Aoxue’s promotion had already spread through the military camp. As her most trusted subordinate, Lu Sheng had immediately gone to Fuyun Manor to get a good jar of wine for her. However, when he reached the door, he suddenly remembered that Lin Aoxue was wounded and couldn’t drink. Though it put him in a bit of a dilemma, he had already brought the gift—there was no way he was taking it back.

As soon as Lu Sheng spoke, Lin Aoxue breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about whatever nonsense she had been muttering earlier, and the awkwardness in her heart lessened slightly. Going along with his words, she said, “That’s thoughtful of you, but judging by my injuries, I’ll need at least ten days to half a month to recover. Why don’t you take it back and drink it yourself?”

The moment she said that, Lu Sheng jumped in protest. “Hey! No way! This is the most expensive wine from Fuyun Manor—what a waste if I drank it myself! No, no, the wine stays here. You focus on recovering, sir. I’ll take my leave now!”

Afraid that Lin Aoxue would insist on him taking the wine back, Lu Sheng didn’t linger. He placed the jar on the table and dashed out like a gust of wind, leaving Lin Aoxue staring after him in shock. Clicking her tongue in amusement, she muttered to herself, “That speed—he’d have no trouble running for his life on the battlefield.”

“What are you mumbling about?” Yun Yan entered the tent, carrying the now-warmed medicinal porridge. Seeing Lin Aoxue talking to herself, she smiled and asked.

“Lu Sheng just came by to bring me some wine, but I sent him away.”

Since Lu Sheng had only just left, he must have run into Yun Yan outside. Yun Yan glanced at the wine jar sitting on the table, her eyes twinkling with amusement, though she playfully muttered, “Bringing wine when he knows you’re injured? That guy needs a lesson.”