On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

After saying this, Kong Zhiqian let out a long sigh of relief, as if he were completely exhausted, but his eyes shone with an alarming brightness.

There was deathly silence in the hall.

Uwe stared intently at Kong Zhiqian for a very long time. For the first time, a genuine sense of apprehension arose in his hawk-like eyes towards this southern boy.

He had initially thought he had merely picked up a somewhat useful chess piece. Now it seemed he had retrieved a most venomous snake. This snake, though small, possessed venom powerful enough to kill a lion.

"Good...good...good!" After a long while, Uvilian said "good" three times. He stepped forward, patted Kong Zhiqian's shoulder hard, and burst into laughter, his laughter filled with a long-suppressed pleasure and cruelty.

"Young Master Kong! You are truly my Zhang Liang! My Zhuge Liang!" he laughed loudly. "It will be done as you said! From today onwards, I will give you a 'revenge army' of three thousand men, which you will personally command! Ashina De, you will assist him from the side! Whatever he needs, manpower, money, intelligence, the entire royal court will provide full support! I want to see what Lin Zhen and that Empress will have to fight me with when they are riddled with holes by these knives from behind!"

"Thank you, Great Khan!" Kong Zhiqian knelt on the ground and kowtowed heavily. He knew that from this moment on, he was no longer an insignificant pawn. He had become a player in this game, someone who could make his own moves.

His heart, filled with hatred, finally found an outlet. He could almost see Chang'an City wailing in the flames of war and plague, and Murong Yan and Lin Zhen being abandoned by everyone and crying out in despair.

A twisted, vengeful thrill instantly swept over his entire body, causing him to tremble slightly with excitement.

Kneeling to the side, Hu Yanzhuo, long forgotten by Uwei, watched this scene with eyes filled with endless fear.

He knew that the sky over the grasslands was about to change.

This war, because of the addition of this southern boy, will become more insidious, more bloody, and more... without any bottom line than ever before.

......

Late at night.

The nights in the northern desert are always exceptionally cold and exceptionally long. Even in the height of summer, after the sun sets, a chill rises from the ground like a tide, penetrating to the bone.

Inside the central command tent of the Great Qian Northern Expeditionary Army, the flame of the tallow lamp flickered uneasily in the wind that swept through the hall, casting Lin Zhen's lonely figure onto the military map behind him, making it appear longer and shorter.

He hadn't slept for three days and three nights.

The joy of the victory at Eagle's Beak Cliff was quickly overshadowed by the stalemate in the battle. Uvi was more patient than he had imagined. After losing nearly ten thousand elite troops, this warlord of the northern deserts did not retaliate in a fit of rage. Instead, like a wounded lone wolf that became even more cunning, he completely withdrew and concealed his main force, using only countless small groups of elite cavalry to harass the Daqian army's long supply lines day and night, like annoying flies.

These cavalrymen moved swiftly, familiar with the terrain, seizing what they could win and fleeing when they couldn't, never lingering in battle. Although the losses they inflicted each time were small, they accumulated and greatly tied down Lin Zhen's forces, making the replenishment of food and weapons at the front lines extremely precarious.

Lin Zhen rubbed his aching temples, his handsome face etched with exhaustion. He picked up the now-cold tea from the table and drank it all in one gulp. The bitter tea slid down his throat, clearing his muddled mind slightly.

His gaze fell on a corner of the table, where a worn-out sachet embroidered with mandarin ducks sat quietly.

This was tied by Murong Yan herself before he left.

He picked up the sachet and gently sniffed it. That familiar, her scent, a blend of faint orchid fragrance and body warmth, instantly pierced through the heavy leather and dust smells in the command tent, like the gentlest silk thread, pulling him back to Chang'an, thousands of miles away, back to the warm Qifeng Pavilion.

He felt as if he could see her again.

She wore that dark gold phoenix-embroidered gown, its long, messy train stretching across the entire bedchamber. She would snuggle in his arms, complaining about the numerous memorials he submitted, yet unable to resist discussing state affairs with him, her phoenix eyes sparkling with a light brighter than the stars. She would straighten his collar, clumsily try to tie his hair, and when he returned late at night after finishing his official duties, she would serve him a bowl of hot soup that she had personally prepared.

She was the ruler of a nation, the head of all people, but before him, she was simply his Yan'er. An ordinary wife who could be coquettish, dependent, and heartbroken by his exhaustion.

A deep, overwhelming longing suddenly surged into his heart.

He had been away from Chang'an for three months. During those three months, he thought of her constantly. He worried about whether she could handle those cunning and shrewd officials at court; he worried whether she had lost weight from worrying too much; he worried whether she felt lonely at night in the empty palace…

He carefully took out a letter from his bosom that he had read countless times. The edges of the letter were frayed, and on it was her familiar, delicate handwriting with a touch of imperial grandeur.

In the letter, she didn't talk much about court politics, but just rambled on about how the crabapple blossoms in the Imperial Garden were in full bloom, even more beautiful than last year; that she had a new Persian cat, which was very mischievous and always liked to scratch the train of her phoenix-emerging-from-the-world dress; she also said that she was doing well and that he didn't need to worry, but should take good care of himself at the front and not overexert himself...

Every word conveys deep concern and love.

Lin Zhen pressed the letter to his chest, as if he could feel the warmth of her fingertips as she wrote it. He closed his eyes, tracing her face in his mind again and again.

Yan'er...

wait for me.

Once I have pacified this northern desert and beheaded Uwei, I will return immediately. Then, I will never leave you again.

……

Meanwhile, in Chang'an, at Zichen Palace and Qifeng Pavilion.

The night was as still as water, and the moonlight shone through the carved window frames, quietly spilling onto the polished gold-brick floor.

Murong Yan was also not asleep.

She sat alone on the large phoenix couch. She wore only the close-fitting Phoenix Descent Dress, the dark Suzhou brocade fabric appearing even more profound and mysterious under the hazy moonlight. The woven gold cotton and the phoenix patterns embroidered with gold thread were like a sleeping galaxy, quietly flowing with restrained brilliance.

The lightness of the Su brocade and the softness of the cotton made the enormous robe cling to her body, bringing a familiar and reassuring touch. The five-zhang-long Su brocade train cascaded down from the phoenix couch, spreading out on the ground in a large, messy yet luxurious expanse of dark gold brocade, reaching all the way to the window, as if to connect with the moonlight outside.

In her hand, she also held a letter. It was a letter from Lin Zhen, which he had just sent back home through "Night Owl".

In the letter, he made no mention of the hardships and dangers of the battlefield, only saying that everything was going smoothly and that she should not worry. He also described Marshal Zheng Jiao's loud voice and the rough but warm roasted meat in the military camp in a joking tone. He said he missed her lotus seed soup.