All I Ask Is to Win the Beauty’s Favor

Wu Ying sat before the bronze mirror, gazing at the face carefully made up with cosmetics. It seemed terribly unfamiliar.

Her eyebrows had been drawn longer, sweeping up toward her temples and lending her almond-shaped eyes a sharper look.

Her lips were stained with rouge, a deep vermilion like the first crabapple blossom of spring in full bloom.

Her hair was swept into a tall bun, with twelve gold-and-jade hairpins placed one by one. Every pin weighed heavily, as if it meant to bend her neck beneath its weight.

But she did not bend.

She waited alone in the bridal chamber for a very, very long time.

Then she saw a hand reach toward her.

The right hand.

It was covered in scars, its fingers slightly curled. It moved very slowly, as though afraid of frightening something away.

Its fingertips trembled faintly, not from nervousness, but because the hand itself had been so badly injured. Its recovery to this point was the result of a physician's utmost efforts.

The hand pinched the edge of her red veil.

With the utmost care, it lifted it.

As the red silk slipped away, Wu Ying finally saw him.

Rong Weixi.

His gaze rested on her face.

His left eye was clear as a cold pool, while a thin film clouded his right, like a veil of morning mist.

Both eyes, so different in appearance, widened slightly. His stunned expression was so unguarded it was almost bewildered.

He probably hadn't expected the face beneath the veil to look like this.

Wu Ying knew what she looked like.

Among the noblewomen of the capital, she wasn't the most beautiful, but her eyes were exceptionally lovely.

Her beauty was bright and keen, like a sharpened blade.

At that very moment, their gazes met and clashed.

A dashing, resilient beauty of a county princess & a disfigured, purehearted, beautiful and tragic general