For her mother’s sake, Yao Qingyu, the neglected eighth princess of Yan, boldly volunteered to marry into the Lanyu royal court in the desert.
She thought she would marry the old Khan and spend the rest of her life that way, but a rebellion broke out on her wedding night, and the old Khan kicked the bucket.
Among the desert people, a father’s death means his son inherits everything. Before Yao Qingyu had even settled into her new position as the young stepmother, she was married off again, this time to Cang Jin, the old Khan’s fourth son.
Yao Qingyu was a gentle, elegant woman of Yan, with delicate features. A golden songbird in a cage, she entered the desert one day and came face to face with its fierce, uninhibited men, as bold as eagles. She seemed soft as water, but was stubborn underneath.
Through sharing both good fortune and hardship, Yao Qingyu finally softened the tempered steel into a pliant thread.
And Cang Jin, gazing at the desert flower he had tempered with his own hands, smiled and drew her into his arms. “May we gaze together, for a lifetime, upon the desert smoke rising straight into the sky and the sun setting over the long river.”
