part 5
"I heard the Shen family is marrying off two young ladies today. One weds the young lord, and the other the general."
"The one marrying the general must be the concubine-born daughter, right? Tsk, isn’t this sending her to her death? That general has already caused three fiancées to pass away."
"Exactly. After all, she is of humble birth. Her life is worthless, and no one would even grieve if she dies."
Such whispers drifted outside the sedan. Qinghe turned pale with anger, yet I merely lifted a corner of my wedding veil and smiled softly.
Does Gu Lin truly bring misfortune upon his wives?
The whole capital mocked him for his ill-fated fate, yet no one ever wondered whether the deaths of his three former fiancées were mere accidents or deliberate schemes.
Mother once told me that Gu Lin rose to fame at an early age. He accompanied his father to war at fourteen, led troops independently at sixteen, and won numerous remarkable feats on the borderlands. Upright and unyielding, he had offended many powerful court officials. Unable to bring him down openly, those dignitaries sought to lay traps through his marriages.
All three of his former fiancées were noble ladies from influential clans with intricate connections behind them. Each betrothal was manipulated by schemers, whose true aim was to plant spies beside the general rather than arrange genuine marriages.
In the end, all those young ladies perished in so-called accidents.
Were those truly mishaps, or cold-blooded murders to prevent the general’s in-laws from becoming uncontrollable forces in the imperial court?
I had no definite answer. Yet I knew for certain that a man who kept a simple meal favor in mind for over a decade, and who ventured into an ancestral hall on a cold night to pray for his benefactress’s daughter, could never be the cold-hearted ill-omened man the world depicted.
The bridal sedan finally stopped before the General’s Manor.
I felt the sedan tilt slightly as someone lifted the curtain. A well-defined hand reached inside, slender with faint calluses from years of wielding blades.
"Miss Shen," his deep voice held no hint of emotion. "Are you afraid?"
Without hesitation, I placed my hand into his.
"I am not."
He seemed slightly stunned, then tightened his grip. His palm was warm, rough from constant battles, yet strangely reassuring.
Holding my hand, he led me step by step across the red carpet into the manor.
Through the narrow gap beneath my veil, I saw the hall filled with guests. Their expressions varied—sympathy, schadenfreude, eager amusement, yet not a single sincere blessing.
Naturally, no one would offer blessings for the wedding of someone they believed was doomed to die soon.
The wedding rituals proceeded swiftly: bowing to heaven and earth, serving tea, and being escorted to the bridal chamber. There were no extravagant formalities nor lengthy feasts, as if the master of this manor was deliberately avoiding trivial festivities.
I settled in the new chamber while Qinghe stayed by my side, frequently glancing toward the door.
"Miss, do you think the general will come?"
"He will," I replied firmly.
Qinghe looked half-convinced and murmured, "Miss, I just found out that the eldest young lady’s wedding is incredibly grand. The main mistress prepared a hundred and twenty dowry chests for her, and the young lord’s residence is fully decorated with lanterns and streamers..."
"Qinghe," I cut her off gently, "do not speak of such things."
She fell silent awkwardly.
I could easily picture the lively scene at the young lord’s mansion without her telling me.
Shen Mudan must be brimming with pride right now, dressed in splendid phoenix wedding robes, sitting in the beautifully arranged bridal chamber, waiting for her noble husband to lift her veil. She surely thought she had won everything—seizing another’s betrothal and marrying into the imperial clan to live an exalted life.
Little did she know that though Prince Rong still held his title after being convicted long ago, his household with hundreds of members barely scraped by on his meager official salary. The young lord received merely twenty taels of silver monthly, far from enough to maintain such a large mansion, let alone live a lavish life.
When Mother secured this marriage for me, she knew full well how impoverished the young lord’s household was. Yet she valued Zhao Ming’s character. She had heard that despite his poor circumstances, he was upright and diligent in study, destined to achieve great things sooner or later. Mother believed a promising son-in-law would eventually lead me out of hardship.
But Shen Mudan knew nothing of this. She only saw the noble title of young lord, oblivious to the empty, declining household behind it.
She thought she had snatched a precious treasure, yet it was nothing but worthless weeds.
Meanwhile, the so-called wife-killing general I married was the true outstanding hero.
Night deepened, and the bustling noises outside gradually faded away.
I heard steady footsteps drawing near, heavy and powerful, as if striking straight at one’s heart.