The General Says She Won't Marry - Chapter 52 Part 2

During the battle, he had charged toward Lin Aoxue’s position, but he had failed to reach her in time. By the time he had connected with Lin Aoxue’s troops, their numbers had been decimated, and Lin Aoxue herself was missing. This battle… it seemed that her chances of survival were slim.

When the barbarians retreated, they left behind a field of corpses. Beichen Long, his armor soaked in blood, sat astride his horse amidst the carnage, his lips pressed into a tight line. For a long while, he remained silent. Then, suddenly, he furiously ordered his men to continue searching for Lin Aoxue.

He commanded them to turn over every corpse on the battlefield, one by one, to confirm her fate.

But even after his troops combed through the entire battlefield, they did not find Lin Aoxue’s body. Instead, one soldier came forward, holding a bloodstained silver spear and a nameplate engraved with the characters “Lin Aoxue.”

“General, we couldn’t find Deputy Commander Lin’s body,” the soldier reported, “but we found these two items.”

Beichen Long took the bloodied silver spear from the soldier’s hands. He stared at the faintly carved character “Xue” on the hilt, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot. The veins at his temple pulsed violently as a surge of unspeakable rage and deep regret filled him—as if he had lost a fine blade that he could never recover.

He took a deep breath before finally letting out a long sigh. “Forget it.”

Lin Aoxue had lost her spear and her nameplate. Even if they couldn’t find her body, her chances of survival were next to none. Beichen Long suspected she had been hacked to pieces by the barbarians’ blades, reduced to an unrecognizable mess. That was likely why they couldn’t find her remains.

With a heavy heart, he furrowed his brows and called for his troops to regroup. Among them were Lu Sheng and Xu He, who had survived the brutal battle. Lin Aoxue’s unit had suffered catastrophic losses, but nearly eight thousand had made it out alive. In Beichen Long’s eyes, that was nothing short of a miracle—one that only made him mourn Lin Aoxue’s death even more.

Lu Sheng, who had been frantically searching for Lin Aoxue after the battle, refused to give up. Before Beichen Long could give further orders, Lu Sheng was already moving through the troops in a panic, grabbing anyone still standing and demanding, “Did you see Deputy Commander Lin?!”

His desperation was evident. Every person he met, he asked the same question. But the responses were always the same—blank confusion, uncertain stares, or a weary shake of the head.

These soldiers had barely survived the brutal battle. The terror and shock of escaping death still lingered in their hearts, leaving them no room to consider anything else.

Xu He, watching Lu Sheng’s near-mad desperation, felt a heavy weight in his chest. But unlike Lu Sheng, he could accept the cruel reality—Lin Aoxue, even if she was dead, would be remembered in history. Yet, deep inside, he still held a sliver of hope.

And so, he accompanied Lu Sheng in his frantic search.

But after searching for a long time, they found nothing.

When Beichen Long finally ordered the troops to regroup and prepare to return to Xingbei Pass, Lu Sheng stood frozen amidst the sea of corpses, as if his soul had been ripped from his body.

The mountains of bodies, the blood-soaked earth—it all stretched out before him like an endless crimson sea.

And that sea swallowed him whole, taking his spirit with it, leaving him utterly defeated.

He did not remember how he left the battlefield. Perhaps Xu He and the others had carried him away, or maybe he had stumbled along, falling to his knees with every few steps as he followed the retreating army.

The troops returned to Xingbei Pass, where the gates were wide open to welcome the triumphant army. From a distance, Lu Sheng saw Yun Yan standing at the entrance, and only then did his dazed mind begin to clear. But in that instant, his eyes turned red, his steps faltered, and shame overwhelmed him—he could not face Yun Yan.

The army continued forward. Beichen Long rode among the mighty ranks, filled with the exhilaration of finally repelling the barbarians. After months of relentless battles and the sacrifice of tens of thousands, this moment made it all seem worthwhile. The fallen warriors had fought bravely, bringing hope to the northern frontier—they deserved to be honored and remembered.

But to Lu Sheng, it was all absurd and laughable.

He dragged his heavy steps forward, and with each step closer to Yun Yan, it felt as if a sharp dagger was being driven deeper into his heart. By the time he reached the foot of Xingbei Pass’ towering walls, his mind, dulled by grief, finally regained some awareness. He opened his mouth, wanting to call out to Yun Yan, but before he could speak, a mouthful of blood surged up his throat and sprayed out. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees, his eyes brimming with tears.

War had taken so many from him—his parents, his wife and children. And now, even Lin Aoxue, whom he saw as a brother and a mentor, was gone. Once again, he was lost.

As a lowly soldier, they had sacrificed so much for war. But what had war ever given them in return?

He did not know how to move forward. He did not know what could keep him going.

Revenge?

Killing the barbarians for vengeance was the only reason left in his heart. There was no one else to give him the strength to hold on, no one to remind him why life was worth living. If he was alive, he might as well be dead. And in this moment, he finally and painfully understood the words Lin Aoxue had once said to him.

“Living is the hardest thing.”

More than once, he thought of ending it all, convinced that his survival was nothing but a burden. He was utterly alone in this vast world.

Yet, deep within his heart, there was still a fire—a burning hatred that refused to let him go so easily. If he died, then no one would be left to avenge the fallen. No one would be able to settle this grudge.

As long as the barbarians existed, his hatred could never be resolved.

The moment Yun Yan laid eyes on Lu Sheng, her keen instincts immediately detected the despair radiating from him. She knew that Lu Sheng had always been close to Lin Aoxue—though they were technically superior and subordinate, in private, they were more like brothers. If Lin Aoxue was safe, Lu Sheng would never have looked like this.

A cold dread rose in Yun Yan’s heart, making her frown instinctively. She pressed her lips together, struggling to maintain her composure. Taking a deep breath of the damp, blood-scented air outside the pass, she forced herself to steady her mind and quickened her pace toward Lu Sheng.

Lu Sheng was kneeling on the ground, his entire body trembling violently.

At the sound of Yun Yan’s gentle call, he slowly raised his head. Yun Yan clearly saw his tear-streaked face, filled with despair and agony. At that moment, she knew—there was no need to ask anything.

She stood before him, watching as he wept uncontrollably, curled up like a lost child, sobbing his heart out. A deep, unspoken sorrow flickered in Yun Yan’s eyes.

She remained silent for a long time.

In the end, she merely shook her head. She asked no questions.

She walked past Lu Sheng, heading toward the victorious army that was marching toward the city. As she moved through the ranks of bloodstained soldiers, an injured soldier called out to her, asking her to tend to their wounds.

Yun Yan cast the man a glance—her expression was cold and eerily calm. So calm that it sent a shiver down the soldier’s spine, as if a gust of icy wind had blown through his heart. Instinctively, he took a step back. He had never known that the gentle Doctor Yun could have such an unsettling and chilling gaze.

Without another word, Yun Yan turned away, her face blank and detached as she continued forward. Her eyes were unfocused, as if lost in the vast world, staring at nothing in particular.

She passed by the wounded soldiers, many turning their heads in confusion as she walked by. Yet no one dared to call out to her.

She stopped in front of Beichen Long’s carriage and looked up at the towering warhorse, upon which sat Beichen Long—imposing, commanding, his square-jawed face carrying a trace of fierceness.

“Where is Lin Aoxue?” She got straight to the point, forcing down the overwhelming unease in her heart.

“Dead,” Beichen Long answered curtly.

Yun Yan’s clear eyes rippled, as though a raging torrent was surging in the depths of her pupils, unleashing the terror she had desperately suppressed. It broke through the dam, surging forth like a monstrous beast, devouring every last glimmer of light on her path and plunging everything into darkness.

Beichen Long saw the dull, lifeless color in her eyes and was unexpectedly moved. He gestured for someone at his side to bring over Lin Aoxue’s name tag and silver spear, then handed them to Yun Yan.

“These are the things he left behind. Take them.”

Lin Aoxue was already dead—there was nothing more to argue about. Since Lin Aoxue had cherished Yun Yan so dearly in life, Beichen Long supposed that, in death, he would have wanted her to handle his belongings. This was the greatest kindness Beichen Long could offer—his final way of honoring Lin Aoxue’s last wishes.

Yun Yan took the silver spear and bloodstained name tag in a daze, standing motionless. Beichen Long paid her no further attention, turning back with his troops and heading into Xingbei Pass.

She remained beneath the towering city walls, gazing at the vast, endless sky. A misty sheen covered her eyes, and the light that once shone in them—kindled by Lin Aoxue—dimmed little by little, fading into oblivion. She raised a hand to rub her eyes, forcing herself to push down the fear that kept rising uncontrollably in her heart.

Snowflakes began to drift down from the sky, blending seamlessly with the gray heavens—just like Lin Aoxue’s name, steadfast and unyielding, yet as pure and flawless as the falling snow.

Spring snow was not uncommon in the northern frontier, but at this moment, it brought Yun Yan a small, fleeting sense of comfort.

She clenched the name tag tightly, suppressing the despair that threatened to shatter her composure. Lowering her gaze, she stared at the three blood-stained characters on the tag—Lin Aoxue—etched into her heart like a brand. For a fleeting moment, she almost believed that as long as she could still see this name, Lin Aoxue had not truly left her.

She did not wail in grief.

She did not, like a madwoman, demand answers from Beichen Long.

Nor did she lose her reason, recklessly leading men to storm into Beichen Long’s ranks or the barbarian strongholds to seek justice for the one she loved.

Her reaction was as calm and restrained as her love for Lin Aoxue had been. Yet within her silence, her heart was being torn apart—slowly, layer by layer, exposed to the biting wind, breaking and festering in agony.

“Liar,” she whispered.

Before she left the pass, she had come to see her, telling her to wait for her return.

But she never came back.

She had promised that once vengeance was achieved, she would marry her.

But she never came back.

She had sworn, time and time again, that she would avenge her.

But she never came back.

Yun Yan squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears brimming in her gaze. Her face was taut, her fingers clutching the name tag with such force that her knuckles turned white. Through gritted teeth, she said coldly, “You broke your promise. I won’t miss you.”

Yet, as she spoke, a single clear tear slipped from the corner of her eye, vanishing into the bloodstained earth.

She fought with all her might to keep herself from breaking.

The cold wind beyond the pass poured through her nose and mouth, rushing into her chest without the slightest resistance. And just like that, the warmth she had felt while waiting for Lin Aoxue’s return was gradually replaced by an unbearable chill, seeping into her very bones.

She put away Lin Aoxue’s name tag, cradling the heavy silver spear in both hands, then turned and stepped into Xingbei Pass.

She did not return to the military doctor’s camp. That place no longer held any warmth for her—it was not worth lingering in.

Instead, she walked straight to Lin Aoxue’s tent and began packing her belongings. She knew that if she didn’t take them, Beichen Long would have soldiers come and seize everything, only to burn it all.

That was how they treated every fallen soldier. If the deceased had family at Xingbei Pass, they might be allowed to claim their loved one’s possessions. But for someone like Lin Aoxue, who had no kin, everything would be destroyed without a trace.

To Yun Yan, she and Lin Aoxue had already pledged their lives to each other. Even if she had not returned this time, the things that had belonged to her should not be carelessly discarded.

She sat on the edge of her bed for a long while, her mind eerily silent, lost in thought. Only after a long time did she rise and begin packing her belongings.

She allowed no one to assist her—not even Lu Sheng, whom she coldly drove out of the tent with a single look.

From the bedside cabinet, she retrieved two neatly folded sets of clothing—garments she had personally sewn for Lin Aoxue. The meticulous way they were folded showed just how much their owner had cherished them.

But for this campaign, Lin Aoxue had worn only the most ordinary, repeatedly mended soldier’s uniform. These two outfits had remained untouched.

Yun Yan let out a sigh, her eyes quietly turning red again. She shook her head forcefully, pulling out the two sets of clothing. Just as she was about to continue packing, she noticed a small, delicate wooden box tucked beneath them.

The box was tiny, resembling a container for jewelry. But Lin Aoxue had never been one to wear ornaments. Yun Yan guessed that it might hold the jade pendant she had once gifted her. A bitter, helpless smile tugged at her lips, a sharp ache welling up in her chest. This person was truly foolish—so deeply devoted, yet always pretending to be indifferent.

She sniffed lightly and carefully opened the box. The moment she saw what lay inside, her pupils contracted, and the fingers holding the lid froze in place.

Inside the wooden box rested a small golden key.

This kind of golden key was not unfamiliar to Yun Yan, for she possessed one herself—the very same key that had been stolen by a pickpocket during the Lantern Festival, only to be mysteriously redeemed from the pawnshop later.

At last, some lingering doubts from before found their answers.

Why had Sui Liang, a warrior of such formidable skill, fallen at Lin Aoxue’s hands?

Why had Sui Liang’s golden key vanished without a trace after that battle?

Why had Lin Aoxue, upon learning about the golden key in the embroidered pouch, rushed to the pawnshop, only to leave empty-handed and choose to remain silent about it?

Everything—all of it—was because she had been part of this game all along. The blood feud she spoke of, the lifelong vengeance she carried, all traced back to this single golden key.

Yun Yan let out a helpless chuckle. The revelation had come so suddenly, catching her completely off guard. She marveled at how well Lin Aoxue had hidden the truth, yet sorrowed over the fact that she would never return.

She took a deep breath. Since fate had placed this golden key in her hands, she would carry forward the wish they both shared. From now on, Lin Aoxue’s vengeance was hers as well. She would settle every old debt, one by one.

Yun Yan bid farewell to Beichen Long, taking Lin Aoxue’s silver spear and name tag as she left the military camp. Beichen Long hesitated, his expression uncertain, but in the end, he only sighed and did not stop her. He simply watched as Yun Yan departed alone, heading toward Yanxue Medical Clinic.

The physicians and attendants at the clinic were taken aback by her unexpected return. She carried an air of cold severity, so unlike her usual warmth and easygoing demeanor. They stared in astonishment, yet none dared to ask her any questions at this moment. Yun Yan waved a hand, signaling the attendants to close the shop. Though puzzled, they obeyed without question and began tidying up.

Yun Yan walked into the clinic’s backyard, gazing at the quiet courtyard. It was exactly the same as when she had left. Shaking her head with a sigh, she leaned Lin Aoxue’s silver spear against the wall before sitting down at the stone table beneath a tree.

From her robes, she pulled out Lin Aoxue’s name tag and held it in silence for a long time.

Her slender, jade-like fingers gently traced over the three carved characters on the tag. A look of helplessness flickered in her eyes before she sighed again and closed them softly.

A shadowy figure gradually emerged from the darkness.

For the first time, this black-clad individual had come to meet her before nightfall.

“Send someone beyond the pass,” Yun Yan ordered. “Even if she truly is dead, you must bring her body back to me.”

Even now, she refused to believe that this was how their story ended.