The once invincible "iron-blooded young marshal" suddenly fell in love with his enemy's charming little daughter.
In order to marry her, he did not hesitate to turn against the entire family and give up half of his country to her.
Everyone said that the young marshal was crazy for trading his blood and sweat for a weak dodder flower.
On the wedding night, he knelt down on one knee and held her ankle: "I finally got you."
But she put the dagger against his throat and chuckled: "Young Commander, do you know how my seven brothers died?"
As the candlelight flickered, he smiled and held the blade: "I killed it. Now, it's my turn?"
---
The chill climbed up from the soles of my feet, but shattered into a strange shiver when it touched the hot palms. The dagger, the short blade forged by his own hands and densely covered with dark lines, was firmly pressed against his Adam's apple at the moment, and the sharp edge pressed out a tiny red line that was about to break the skin.
As he breathed, he could smell the cold incense coming out of her sleeves, mixed with the sweet and greasy incense from the new house, and... A very faint, almost undetectable smell of blood and rust.
His little bride. His trophies. He overturned half of the country and gambled all his reputation on the treasure.
Shen Yu laughed softly, his chest vibrated, and the blade on his Adam's apple rose and fell slightly.
"Yes. I killed him."
The five words, clear and steady, even with a kind of indulgent tenderness, made a crisp sound like an ice pick falling to the ground in this wedding room where the red candles were burning.
