Shen Luan closed his eyes, and the soft and waxy little Douding appeared in his mind. He was six years old and always liked to pull her sleeves and call her "sister". When the previous dynasty was overthrown, she was nine years old. She watched her father being shot to death by random arrows in the Jinluan Palace, and her mother jumped into a well with him in her arms. She escaped from the palace under the cover of her wet nurse, and hid in the rebel army for seven years with her just one-month-old brother.
Seven years.
She was reduced from a princess of the former dynasty to an orphan who made a living by selling embroidery. She finally saved enough money to take her brother south, and Gu Beichen's people came.
"The general said that as long as you marry well, your brother will be well taken care of."
Take good care of it? Shen Luan let out an almost inaudible sneer. She would rather die than believe that the executioner whose hands were stained with her father's blood would treat her brother well.
But she also knew that she had no choice.
"Squeak——"
The door was pushed open.
Shen Luan's whole body froze and his breathing became tense. The footsteps were deep, neither urgent nor slow, and each step stepped on her heartbeat. She heard the sound of the wine glass being placed on the table, the bottom of the glass hitting the wood, crisp and dull.
"Open it yourself."
The voice was very low, as cold as a knife in the twelfth lunar month.
Shen Luan bit his lip and reached out to lift the red hijab. The candlelight dazzled her eyes, and she squinted, and her vision gradually became clear - a man in a red wedding robe stood three steps away, with broad shoulders and narrow waist, sword-shaped eyebrows at the temples, and a pair of eyes like knives tempered with poison, looking at her condescendingly.
This is the powerful General Zhenbei, Gu Beichen.
