Fire… fire everywhere.

The rebel soldiers on horseback looted every person they encountered and set every house ablaze.

Under the protection of her cousin, she fled desperately toward the city gates. Suddenly, she looked up and saw the leader of the rebels seated atop the gate tower!

Dressed in crimson court robes, the attire of a civil official…

It was none other than Yan Zheng—the man whose engagement she had broken off three years ago, and who had just been appointed Chief Grand Councilor the day before!

“Ah!!”

Chu Ruoyan jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat—another nightmare!

A splitting headache threatened to tear her apart. Her maid, Yulu, hurriedly lit a lamp. “Miss, are you feverish again? I’ll call for help at once!”

Chu Ruoyan grabbed her wrist. “Has there… still been no word from the west?”

Yulu hesitated, her heart aching at the sight of her mistress’s pale, frail face. “Not yet. But don’t worry, Miss. The Yan army has never lost a battle. With the general and his lady leading the charge this time, our future son-in-law will surely return unharmed.”

Not long ago, their young lady had been betrothed to the Yan family.

The groom-to-be was the third son, Yan Zheng—renowned as a scholar who could bring peace with his pen and a warrior who could secure victory on horseback.

But then chaos erupted in the western frontier, forcing General Yan and his wife to march out with their sons to quell the rebellion, delaying the wedding.

Yet Yulu’s reassurances only deepened Chu Ruoyan’s unease.

In that ominous dream…

The Yan family had also sent no word from the battlefield.

Then, in a single stroke, a blood-stained report arrived—the Yan army had suffered a crushing defeat at Hangu Pass, with all one hundred thousand soldiers annihilated!

“I’ll write a few more letters. Give them to Father and ask him to send them—” As soon as her feet touched the floor, her legs gave way, nearly sending her crashing to the ground.

Yulu rushed to steady her. “Miss! You’ve been gravely ill these past days. How can you even think of writing letters?”

Ignoring her, Chu Ruoyan staggered to the writing desk and reached for the brush—

BANG!

The door burst open. Chu Zhong, her father’s trusted aide, stormed in. “Miss—disaster has struck! The Yan army was ambushed at Hangu Pass! The general, his wife, and four young masters fell in battle. Only the third son escaped with his life!”

BOOM!

It was as if thunder had struck her. Chu Ruoyan’s hand slipped, tearing the paper beneath her brush.

The nightmare had come true—the Yan family had indeed suffered a devastating defeat at Hangu Pass…

Then, a chilling realization struck her. “Yan Zheng’s legs—were his legs injured?!”

Chu Zhong froze, surprise flickering across his face. “How did you know, Miss? The third young master fell from his horse while riding back to seek reinforcements. The military physician says… he may never walk again.”

The world spun.

Chu Ruoyan slumped back into her chair, numb. As Yulu and Chu Zhong frantically urged her to stay calm, she opened her mouth—only to cough up a mouthful of blood.

“Miss!”

“Fetch the physician—now!”

……

The city gates were engulfed in flames and blood.

That man sat silently atop the gate tower, his handsome face as cold and unfeeling as the King of Hell himself.

Behind him, her father—still clad in his court robes—pleaded desperately.

Then, as if struck by some unseen wound, Yan Zheng’s icy gaze sharpened.

He murmured something, his lips curling into a faint, cruel smile. Her father’s face flushed crimson, as though subjected to unbearable humiliation.

Then, with a broken laugh, he leaped from the hundred-foot-high wall—

THUD.

……

Chu Ruoyan’s eyes snapped open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Days ago, when the Yan family had marched to war, these nightmares had begun.

In them, the Yan family perished at Hangu Pass, and the sole survivor, Yan Zheng, was left crippled.

Her father had begged the emperor to annul the betrothal. But three years later, Yan Zheng rose swiftly through the ranks, becoming Chief Grand Councilor—and on the very night of her wedding to the heir of Pingjing Marquis, he launched a rebellion.

The Pingjing household was slaughtered, the young lord beheaded. She alone escaped.

And at the city gates, she had watched helplessly as her father threw himself to his death…

Outside, Yulu’s furious voice rang out. “What does the madam mean by this? Our young lady is gravely ill, yet after that one physician’s visit, no one has come to check on her. Does she truly wish to drive our miss to her death?”

At the word “death,” Chu Ruoyan’s hand trembled.

The medicine bowl at her bedside shattered on the floor. Yulu rushed in at the noise. “Miss! You’re awake!”

Chu Ruoyan struggled to speak. “Father…”

Yulu understood. “The master came the night you coughed up blood. He stayed by your bedside all night. When the physician said your illness stemmed from heartache, he swore he’d swallow his pride and beg the emperor to annul the betrothal. He left for the palace just moments ago.”

The marriage between the Chu and Yan families had been an imperial decree, meant to ease tensions between civil and military officials.

Before the Yan family’s downfall, it had been a match of equals. But now, with the Yan family in ruins, her father must have assumed her illness was born of reluctance to marry.

“Prepare a carriage. I must see Father…”

As she tried to rise, her legs buckled again. Yulu steadied her. “Miss, don’t rush. The master will come to see you as soon as court adjourns.”

“It’ll be too late by then!”

In her dream, her father had never wronged Yan Zheng—yet had been driven to his death.

The only possible cause was the broken engagement!

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself forward, only to collide with Chu Zhong. “Young Miss, why are you out of bed? Are you feeling better?”

Chu Ruoyan fixed her gaze on the riding whip in his hand. “Brother Chu Zhong, I beg you—take me to the palace.”

……

The carriage raced through the capital’s streets.

Chu Ruoyan leaned against the wall, resting, when faint sobs reached her ears.

“General Yan…”

“May your heroic spirit never fade…”

She lifted the curtain. The streets were draped in white, with mourners burning paper offerings.

Yulu whispered, “The people must have heard that the Yan army… is returning. They’re sending them off in advance.”

Chu Ruoyan pressed her lips together. To the people of Great Sheng, the Yan family was an invincible legend.

Though that legend had crumbled, their reverence ran bone-deep. If she told them the Yan family would one day rebel—would anyone believe her?

Soon, the carriage halted before the palace gates.

Officials were adjusting their robes, and Chu Ruoyan immediately spotted her father. “Father!”

Her cry drew every gaze. Chu Huaishan turned and hurried over. “Ruoyan! What are you doing here?” Seeing her pallor, he scolded, “This is reckless! You’re in no state to be out in the wind! Chu Zhong, Yulu—”

Before he could finish, Chu Ruoyan interrupted. “It’s not their fault! Father, I must speak with you!”

“Whatever it is, we’ll discuss it at home. If it’s about your betrothal, there’s nothing more to say!” Chu Huaishan gripped her shoulders firmly. “This marriage was an imperial decree, forced upon you without your consent. Now that the Yan family has fallen, I will not let you suffer this fate. Put your mind at ease!”

Tears welled in Chu Ruoyan’s eyes. Over the years, her father had sacrificed much for her—even remarrying her late mother’s younger sister, Lady Jiang the Younger.

And now, he was willing to defy the emperor for her sake…

Chu Ruoyan’s voice trembled. “Father, I’ve made up my mind. I will honor this betrothal—”

Before she could finish, a galloping horse tore through the square, its rider shouting—

“The Yan army returns! The Yan army returns!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep