The Spring Breeze Never Crosses Him, So He Does

Ye Lexin was the young general of Xuanbei, hardened by crawling through piles of corpses. She believed that if you could settle things with your fists, there was no need to waste words. Then the Seventh Prince suddenly arrived in the capital. He was a spoiled playboy, sickly and weak, as if a gust of wind might knock him over. He could barely hold a bow, yet his eyes were full of tender affection, and every word he said pushed at her limits. She hated his nonchalance, resented his probing, and hated even more that he was so handsome he kept distracting her. At first, she thought His Highness the Seventh Prince was nothing but an irritating nuisance. When he ran his mouth, she hit him. When he crossed the line, she beat him within an inch of his life. Until one time, when they clashed head-on and accidentally tore through his proud disguise. Looking at his pale, bare chest in the water, she thought, He’s no good in a fight, but his body is devastatingly beautiful. She’d thought it was nothing more than a reckless affair. Until snow and wind battered Changshu Pass, while hidden arrows from the court cut off supplies to a hundred thousand soldiers. Only then did she see the eyes that had been secretly manipulating the tides of power. That sickly man had been pulling the strings all along. Beneath that absurd facade lay a spark that could set the world ablaze. When he wanted to return to the capital, she would clear the way for him. But just as he finally stepped into the Golden Throne Hall and took imperial power into his hands, an urgent dispatch arrived from eight hundred li away in the northern frontier: Xuanbei Camp had been ambushed, and the commander, Ye Lexin, was missing and presumed dead. The court was filled with kneeling officials, all urging their new ruler to consider the greater good and sacrifice one piece to save the rest. The man who had plotted against the whole world mounted the fiery steed he’d never managed to ride properly in his life, like a madman. The ministers were horrified and begged him to reconsider. “The realm has only just been pacified. Your Highness, would you really abandon the throne?” The wind and snow tore through the horse’s cry. Gripping the reins, he didn’t even look back. “Now, I’m going to take back the woman who is my life.” Everyone believed that the Seventh Prince, a delicate flower, was crushed beneath General Ye’s boot. Until the night the dust finally settled. Looking at the sickly man on the bed, Ye Lexin felt a rare pang of sympathy. She lowered her guard and leaned toward him. In the next instant, the world spun. The invalid who couldn’t even draw a bow turned the tables and pinned her to the bed. He clamped one hand around her wrist, his grip astonishingly strong. His eyes were filled with undisguised madness and possessiveness. His hot breath brushed her neck. “Have you forgotten, General?” Chu Xinglan bent his head, his canine teeth grazing her ear dangerously. His voice was unbearably hoarse. “These hands of mine can unlock anything in the world.” Ye Lexin struggled, but couldn’t break free. Beneath that frail, sickly body lurked a hungry wolf. A ruthless, few-words, cold-faced female general × a hopeless flirt with eight hundred schemes, the sickly prince P.S.: 1. A fictional setting, one-on-one, both first-timers. 2. The second male lead is just there to run alongside. Thesis: The world is our betrothal gift, the land our matchmaker, and our love will shine brightly for a lifetime.