She found a bloodied man at the foot of a cliff and saved his life. Before long, she had fallen for him. He told her he would return after the war and asked her to wait three years.
Three years later, she went to the capital to find him. There he was, kneeling in the middle of the royal hunting grounds to receive an imperial decree betrothing him to a princess.
The entire court congratulated him. No one knew that, off to one side of the hunting grounds, sat the woman who had once been his wife, though their marriage had only been a pretense.
She clutched the jade pendant she had worn close to her heart for three years, unable to utter a single word.
His name was Mo Qing, the youngest God of War in the Li Kingdom, and the young Marquis Mo.
One sham marriage, three years of waiting. One imperial betrothal, two broken hearts.
She opened a medical clinic. He asked her to wait one more month, promising to put an end to this marriage arrangement. But could she still trust him?
She had waited three years, only to find herself caught in a storm of rumors, schemes within the manor, and an imminent wedding.
Would she wait for him this time?
