On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

The biting north wind, like billions of hungry beasts from the Arctic ice field, brought with it biting cold, snow foam as fine as salt grains, and dust as coarse as sandpaper, raging and roaring wildly across the vast Beiyan wasteland!

The wind was howling, sometimes like the howling of thousands of ghosts, sometimes like the grinding of teeth of a giant beast, tearing away the last bit of warmth between heaven and earth.

The sky was a heavy lead gray, and the thick, low-hanging clouds were like solidified lead blocks, pressing down heavily on the earth. Not a trace of sunlight could be seen, only a suffocating, endless haze.

As far as the eye can see, there are rolling hills and wilderness that seem to have no end.

The withered and yellow grass fell down in the strong wind and then struggled to stand up again, like the sparse hair of a dying beast.

The remaining snow was like ugly scars, covering the frozen and blackened ground in patches, reflecting the cold light.

The sparse, dead trees with branches twisted like dragons swayed violently in the wind, making creaking sounds as if they were overwhelmed, like the whimpers of a dying person.

On the distant horizon, a few low and dilapidated villages, barely built with adobe and rubble, are like forgotten scars on the wilderness, sporadically dotted in this dead and vast expanse.

The air was filled with a chill that penetrated deep into the bone marrow, a fishy smell mixed with dust and rotten grass, and a thick and indissoluble desolation and solemnity that seemed to have lasted forever!

This land, like a corner abandoned by the gods, is filled with the atmosphere of despair and struggle.

A silent and solemn convoy, like a black steel torrent, crushed the dead and desolate land, and advanced forward with difficulty along an official road that had been repeatedly ravaged by countless wheel ruts and horse hooves and was already bumpy and muddy.

The wheels rolled over the frozen soil and gravel, making a dull and monotonous "creaking" sound, which mixed with the whistling wind, adding a bit of oppression.

At the core of the convoy was a black gilded carriage that was much larger than ordinary and exuded an invisible pressure.

The car body is made of refined steel and century-old rosewood, which are cleverly combined. It is thick and strong enough to withstand strong bows and crossbows.

The car body is engraved with intricate and majestic coiled dragon and cloud patterns, which still sparkle with a cold metallic luster under the gloomy sky. The edges are inlaid with sparkling red gold trims, highlighting the extraordinary status of the owner.

The four "Snow-Treading Black Horses", as black as ink and extremely majestic, were wearing scaled horse armor made of fine steel. They spewed out thick white mist in the cold wind. Every time their iron hooves as big as bowls landed, they left clear marks on the frozen soil and made a heavy and regular "thumping" sound.

On both sides of the carriage, there were eight royal cavalry guards wearing heavy black fish-scale armor, carrying powerful crossbows on their backs, and long swords with sheaths on their waists.

Their figures were as tall as javelins, with only their cold lips and resolute jaws visible beneath their visors. Their eyes were as sharp as hawks, scanning the surrounding wasteland vigilantly.

The cold armor remained motionless in the wind, only the helmet tassel swayed violently in the gale, like a burning black flame!

A murderous aura as solid as iron and blood emanated from them, forcing the howling cold wind back by three points!

In front and behind the convoy, there were dozens of elite cavalrymen with similar attire and awe-inspiring aura leading the way and covering the rear.

A large black banner with a coiled dragon pattern fluttered in the wind, with a huge, powerful word "Lin" written on it!

It was the carriage of the Regent Prince Lin Zhen!

Lin Zhen was not sitting upright in the carriage.

He was reclining on a soft couch covered with thick white tiger skin, wearing a black and dark gold dragon-patterned uniform and a thin cloak of the same color. His posture seemed lazy, but there was an imperceptible solemnity between his brows.

A corner of the brocade curtain on the car window was lifted, and his gaze, as deep as an ancient well, penetrated the diffuse wind, sand and snow foam, and scanned the land outside the window sharply, inch by inch, at Beiyan, a land that had just been incorporated into the territory of Daqian but was still filled with the atmosphere of wildness, blood and indomitable spirit.

His eyes swept across the barren hills, dilapidated villages, and twisted dead trees, like the most precise probe, capturing the beating pulse and hidden undercurrents of the land.

This will be his battlefield for the next few years.

It is not just a battlefield of swords, but also a battlefield of people's hearts, systems and the future.

"Prince, Yanjing is just ahead."

From outside the car window came the clear yet slightly hoarse voice of the personal female bodyguard Cheng Xuan, which was stained by the cold wind.

She was still wearing an orange outfit as bright as the autumn sun, and her bun was covered with tiny ice crystals, gleaming in the cold wind.

She pointed to a vast, blurry outline looming on the horizon ahead, and said with a hint of subtle disappointment and confusion, "It looks really shabby. Not much better than the slums in our capital."

The majestic atmosphere of the old capital of Northern Yan that she had imagined burst like a bubble in front of the gray outline before her.

Lin Zhen did not respond, but just stared calmly at the city that was getting closer and closer.

Yanjing, the old capital of Northern Yan.

The city wall is tall and thick, built with huge blue-gray stone slabs, and its former majestic outline can still be vaguely seen.

However, at this moment, the city wall was covered with deep marks from knives, axes, and arrows, and large areas of the wall had peeled off, revealing the rough stones inside.

Traces of smoke and fire can be seen everywhere, like hideous scars, silently telling of the bloody storms and brutal attacks and defenses that this place has experienced.

On the city wall, the black coiled dragon flag symbolizing Daqian fluttered in the strong wind, striving to demonstrate the majesty of the new master.

But the defenders under the flags seemed a little sparse, listless, with worn armor, and some even napped in a sheltered corner with spears in their arms.

The city gates were wide open, and there were very few pedestrians coming in and out. Most of them were ragged, with patches on top of patches, pale and thin, with numb and empty eyes. They shivered forward in the cold wind like zombies.

In addition to the sharp and pungent smell of wind and sand, there was also a faint stench of animal feces, the pungent smell of cheap liquor, and an indescribable smell of decay, like a rotting corpse.

This former royal city now looks more like a huge ruin that exudes the breath of death.

"Is this the kingdom we fought so hard for? Prince, what are we doing here?" Cheng Xuan couldn't help but mutter again, her voice filled with a hint of confusion and strong dissatisfaction.

The capital of Northern Yan that she imagined, even if not as prosperous as the capital, should have some of the ruggedness and heaviness of the mighty city in the northern frontier. However, what she saw before her was only a scene of desolation, lifelessness, and deep despair.

This scene formed a stark contrast with the miraculous city that the prince created in Hu County in her memory.

Lin Zhen lowered the brocade curtain, blocking out the view outside. His voice was calm, yet it carried a penetrating insight and a heavy sense of responsibility. "Do you think I'm willing to come? Besides me, who else in Daqian knows how to develop the land? Sigh, I wonder when Ling'er's disciples will be able to learn."

"But Prince, why is the Northern Yan Imperial City in this state?"

"Northern Yan is bitterly cold and inherently barren, its land far inferior to that of the Central Plains. Years of war have plagued the Northern Yan royal court, with its heavy levies and extortions. Tribal chiefs have fought one another, gnawing at the last vestiges of this land like jackals. The people have long been drained dry, and being able to survive in this icy land is a blessing. Prosperous?"

The corners of his mouth curled up in a cold arc, with a hint of sarcasm. "Those are seeds that require vast quantities of food, a stable environment, careful governance, and a long time to nurture. Here, there is only frozen soil and windblown sand."

He paused, a sharp, cold light flashed in his eyes.

"Besides... do you think there's true peace beneath this apparent silence? The royal court may have surrendered, but those entrenched tribal chieftains, those bandits who survived the war, those old and young who yearn for their homeland... people's hearts are still unattached, and undercurrents are surging. In this city of Yanjing, every shadow may hide a poisoned dagger and a prying eye. The demons and monsters have never dissipated."