Marrying a Disabled General and be His Wife

Feng Chilie established his own mansion upon taking command of the Wolf Eagle Cavalry, though it was built next to the old general’s mansion—an extravagant display of wealth and perhaps foolishness. A path specifically connected the two mansions to facilitate communication.

Taking this path, they entered Feng Chengjian’s courtyard, where servants worked diligently. Feng Chengjian, using a crutch and displaying a half-stiff body, pruned branches and leaves beside the flowers.

This sight transported Tan Chuyan to another world, a stark contrast to the recent escape from the brink of disaster.

Thankfully, plum blossoms adorned the yard, providing some comfort for working outdoors in the cold weather.

Upon hearing footsteps, Feng Chengjian turned with scissors in hand and spoke first, “Come, I’ll have my servants prepare breakfast; let’s eat together.”

Despite his crutch, Feng Chengjian maintained a straight posture, not seeking assistance even when crossing the threshold.

In contrast, Feng Chilie, in a wheelchair, stubbornly propelled himself.

Seated at the same round table, an indescribably odd atmosphere enveloped them, with only Feng Chengjian appearing at ease. Hindered by a stroke, he refrained from drinking and opted for a simple breakfast that lacked any culinary extravagance.

Unaware of his identity, Tan Chuyan might have mistaken him for an ordinary old man.

After breakfast, Feng Chengjian assumed his fatherly authority and instructed Feng Chilie, “Go to the kitchen and help me boil the medicine.”

Feng Chengjian always handled the medicine himself, but with Feng Chilie present, the responsibility naturally shifted.

Feng Chilie seemed rooted to his seat, occasionally casting worried glances at Tan Chuyan, with concern etched on his forehead.

“Why worry? Am I a cannibal or a white-bone demon?” Feng Chengjian kicked Feng Chilie under his good leg, his tone irate.

“Go and cook the medicine.” Feng Chilie rolled his wheelchair and made a hasty exit.

As he left, Tan Chuyan straightened his back and remarked, “The old general intentionally sent him away.”

Feng Chengjian’s medicine was a once-a-day affair, and it could be taken at any time, so why now? There was no hint of surprise when they entered; Feng Chengjian didn’t inquire about Tan Chuyan’s identity or the purpose of the visit. His demeanor was unusually composed.

Feng Chengjian, devoid of any general’s aura, poured a warm cup of tea for Tan Chuyan, suggesting, “Perhaps you should address me as Uncle Lian, similar to how you address Xiao Yutang and Yan Changfeng. What do you think, Young Master Yan?”

Tan Chuyan was thunderstruck. He hadn’t felt such shock even when passing through the fetal uterus. At that moment, he had a vague sense that he was about to be pierced again.

Uncle Lian and Yuhai were even more enigmatic figures than Tan Chuyan within the realms of An-xiang Tower and Ling-han Pavilion.

Moreover, Uncle Lian and Yuhai were even more mysterious than Tan Chuyan. Their identities were only known to themselves and his teacher.

Even when Tan Hongchen was alive, Tan Chuyan never met the two of them. Their communication was through letters.

When Tan Hongchen was alive, they exchanged letters both ways. However, once Tan Hongchen departed, the communication became one-sided. Tan Chuyan didn’t know how to reach Lian Yuhai.

Yet, whenever he faced a significant problem, the two elders promptly wrote to him, guiding him through solutions and steadfastly standing by his side.

Although the support greatly aided him in becoming the new leader, Tan Chuyan found it challenging to accept that the venerable general from the Jing Kingdom was Uncle Lian.

Did he not understand the significance of An-xiang Tower and Ling-han Pavilion’s existence?

Observing Tan Chuyan’s stunned expression, Feng Chengjian chuckled, “Don’t be so surprised. Without me in the Jing Kingdom, do you think Ah Chen could have truly broken through the Jing Kingdom’s barriers with his own strength?”

It was a valid point — establishing a business required government permission, a challenging feat. Typically, those who could afford such ventures were either wealthy or had influential family connections.

Tan Hongchen, however, lacked both. According to Tan Chuyan’s knowledge, An-xiang Tower and Ling-han Pavilion were founded after Tan Hongchen’s banishment from the palace, thriving in the year Tan Chuyan was born.

At that time, many people were curious about how An-xiang Tower and Ling-han Pavilion could rise simultaneously, but investigations by various forces yielded the same result – efficient management. Over time, this explanation was widely accepted, and the matter was left unexplored.

Now, with a fresh perspective and Feng Chengjian’s hint, Tan Chuyan realized that An-xiang Tower and Ling-han Pavilion’s successful entry into the capitals of Zhao Kingdom and Dayong likely involved covert support from figures like Feng Chengjian.

Putting aside his surprise, Tan Chuyan respectfully inquired, “I don’t know…”

After a moment’s thought, he added, “Uncle Feng, could you reveal the identities of the other elder?”

Feng Chengjian praised him without hesitation, acknowledging Tan Chuyan’s cleverness. He casually nodded and proceeded to write a name on the table with his tea-dipped finger.

Tan Chuyan felt as if struck by five thunders.

Soon, Feng Chengjian erased the name, leaned on his crutches, and settled into a rocking chair. Half-closing his eyes, he said comfortably, “I’m surprised. You don’t need to be so shocked; in fact, I think you should feel anger, mania, and resentment.”

“You should understand that our purpose in training you aren’t simple. We want you to become the sharpest blade, piercing the heart of Dayong Dynasty and becoming the new sword bearer.”

Feng Chengjian sighed, “However, we had some disagreements later. Luckily, I was prepared, though the early stages weren’t smooth. At least your teacher didn’t completely thwart our plan.”

Tan Chuyan held the tea cup, asking, “So, your original goal in training me was for me to replace Great Yong and become the new emperor, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Feng Chengjian admitted happily.

“But your teacher changed his mind later. He understands the challenges and difficulties of being a good emperor. He didn’t want you to endure that, so he temporarily severed ties with us. I intervened later to mediate the situation, allowing us to continue our plan.”

“How did you mediate?” Tan Chuyan inquired, “Did you train a new sword bearer?”

“Yes,” Feng Chengjian replied, folding his hands.

“However, choosing the new sword bearer was a bumpy journey. The one I initially trained was an absolute scoundrel. Once I instilled this matter in him, he turned around. I really wanted to pull down his pants and give him a good beating, but for the sake of his mother, I refrained.”

Feng Chengjian gritted his teeth, clearly irritated by the memory.

After taking a breath, Feng Chengjian added, “Fortunately, he wasn’t the only option. A year before your teacher passed away, we selected a new sword bearer and successfully lured you to the Jing Kingdom. We chose her.”

Tan Chuyan was horrified. Since accepting Tan Hongchen as his teacher, he had sensed that he might be a pawn, a piece manipulated by him and others to restore order to the world. However, he never expected this chess game to be so vast.

Adjusting his breathing secretly, Tan Chuyan asked, “Uncle Feng, the abandoned sword bearer is Feng Chilie, and the new sword bearer is Chu Qingyi, right?”

Feng Chengjian remained silent, a tacit confirmation.

Tan Chuyan pressed forward, “How could you be certain that I would come to the Jing Kingdom and choose the eldest princess?”

“We guided you,” Feng Chengjian replied, opening his eyes and turning to look at Tan Chuyan.

“Guiding you to Jing Kingdom when your teacher died was the first step. If you didn’t choose Qingyi after arriving, I would have found a way to eliminate the person you chose, leaving you with no option but her.”

In that moment, Tan Chuyan glimpsed a trace of murderous intent in Feng Chengjian’s eyes, quickly fading.

Feng Chengjian continued, “But you’re intelligent and clear-headed. You assessed the situation accurately and made the right choice.”

Undeterred, Tan Chuyan inquired, “What if I never found a legitimate reason to leave the Qi Kingdom?”

“Didn’t I find it for you?” Feng Chengjian smiled.

Tan Chuyan opened his lips, incredulous, “You mean you orchestrated the war between the two kingdoms…”

“Yes, it was me,” Feng Chengjian admitted. “Tan Hongyun was a proud and careless person. When rumors spread about Ah Lie’s strength, I subtly planted the idea in his mind that the Jing Kingdom was insufficient. At the opportune moment, I encouraged him to send troops to Jing Kingdom, waiting until he suffered defeat. Then, I would arrange for someone to submit a letter asking you to come over as a hostage. Wouldn’t that bring you here?”

Tan Chuyan’s expression soured momentarily, “But have you considered how many people will die in a war? What if the country can’t defeat the Qi Kingdom?”

“I’ve considered it, but sometimes, you have to take a gamble,” Feng Chengjian calmly replied.

“Do you know how many people will die if we continue with the current status quo? Governments raise taxes to fund their armies, and the people suffer. Borders are unstable, the Huns are a constant threat, and inside Great Yong, relatives and eunuchs vie for power. Amidst all this, who cares about those dying of hunger? You should travel more, especially to places far from the capital. Beyond the palace walls, you’ll find refugees and corpses everywhere, with nowhere to rest.”

“Do you think the world will be peaceful if the three kingdoms balance each other around Great Yong? That’s because you’ve lived in the secluded palace of the Qi Kingdom,” Feng Chengjian spoke solemnly.

“When you view the world from the royal palace, all you see is surface calm. You’ll never witness the frozen white bones on the roadside.”