Her parents passed away, her childhood betrothed withdrew from their engagement, and her relatives were eager to devour her orphaned household.
For the sake of her five-year-old younger sister, Fan Changyu decided to recruit a husband into the family.
She set her sights on the man she had saved—a man covered in wounds, with nothing to his name but a good-looking face.
The two quickly came to an agreement: she would take him in to heal, and in return, he would pretend to become her live-in husband to help her protect her family estate.
Once the family business was secured, Fan Changyu prepared, as promised, to write the separation paper. Unexpectedly, the imperial court went to war and conscripted soldiers—the man was seized as a laboring conscript and disappeared without a trace.
When she saw him again, he was lying in a tent for the wounded, his body drenched in blood. The bloodstained face was as striking as ever, yet his low-ranked soldier’s uniform was shredded beyond repair.
Seeing how hard his life in the army had been, Fan Changyu’s eyes turned red. “Don’t serve in the army anymore. Come back—I’ll butcher pigs to support you.”
The man half-opened his eyes and coughed up blood. “You were going to divorce me…”
Fan Changyu, teary-eyed: “No more divorcing, no more divorcing!”
【Mini Theater】
Marquis of Wu’an, Xie Zheng, rose to fame young, his military exploits unmatched. At twenty, he was ennobled by merit—a feat no one else in the Great Yin Dynasty could match. His methods of commanding the army were infamous for being iron-blooded and severe.
Lately, however, the soldiers under him found their marquis somewhat strange.
He no longer stayed in his own central command tent but instead squeezed himself into a small, tattered tent for the wounded.
Normally, even when stabbed through, he could get back on his feet within two or three days. This time, ten days and half a month passed, and still he hadn’t recovered.
After visiting him, the army strategist clicked his tongue twice. “With someone wiping his body and feeding him medicine while he lies there, of course he won’t heal anytime soon!”
Not until the marquis’s wife—whom no one in the army had ever seen—secretly donned her husband’s shredded uniform and went to battle in his stead, fearing her sickly live-in husband would die on the front lines, did their “gravely injured” marquis suddenly spring up from bed in shock, hastily don his armor, and lead troops to chase after her.
The sunset was blood-red, wild geese wept across the sky.
Fan Changyu, wielding a butcher’s knife, cleaved down an enemy general’s head and looked toward the distant reinforcements charging through a storm of yellow dust. Her vision blurred slightly.
She tugged at a nearby young soldier and asked, “That general wearing a Qilin-shouldered Mingguang Armor, riding high on a warhorse at the very front—why does he look so much like my husband?”
Young soldier: “…Isn’t it possible that he actually is?”
A silly yet fierce little sun ☀️ VS “That woman is so vulgar, why won’t she like me?” Marquis Xie
