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In the warm spring of March, flowers bloom for miles around.
The bright sunshine is like a lover's smiling eyes, warm and passionate.
Under the sunlight, Qin Beiming, dressed in a black suit, stood outside the Zhan family's old mansion, quietly waiting for his bride.
His angular face and dark, deep-set eyes seemed to possess endless magic, drawing onlookers who stopped to stare.
Inside the Zhan family's old mansion, Ling Mo was surrounded by a large group of makeup artists and stylists. They worked on her from 5 a.m. until after 8 a.m., leaving her so tired that she kept dozing off.
In a state between dreaming and waking, her soul seemed to detach from her body, drifting lightly into the ethereal and unreachable void.
As soon as her feet touched solid ground, the dreamlike mist dissipated in an instant.
Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she was shocked to find that her once fair and slender hands had inexplicably shortened considerably, becoming plump and tender like bean sprouts just emerging from the water.
"Is this...a dream?"
Ling Mo stared curiously at his hands, which had suddenly become short and cute, and murmured to himself.
Looking up, one sees distant, dark green mountains shrouded in a light drizzle.
The mountain peaks are covered in snow left over from the passing of winter.
This must be a dream.
As she was thinking this, she happened to catch a glimpse of the gilded plaque directly above her head.
The plaque is inscribed with three large, elegant characters: "War King's Mansion".
"The War King's Mansion?"
She frowned, wondering how she had fallen into such a dream, when suddenly all the memories belonging to her in the dream appeared in her mind.
In the dream, her name was Zhan Mo, which happened to be the same as her real-life name after she changed it.
She is nine years old and the legitimate daughter of Zhan Hanjue, the God of War of Tianyue...
She was slowly processing the memories that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere when a disheveled boy covered in blood suddenly appeared before her eyes.
The boy had sharp, wolf-like eyes, and even though his face was covered in mud, he was still so handsome that it made one's heart flutter.
"Third Master?"
Ling Mo became increasingly aware that something was wrong, and slowly reached out to gently touch his still-childish face.
"Get out of the way."
The boy bared his teeth fiercely, shoved her aside, and fled into the War King's mansion.
Clearly, he was fleeing from pursuers.
Ling Mo rubbed his shoulder, which was sore from being bumped, and looked at Qin Beiming, who was at most thirteen or fourteen years old in the dream. He thought to himself that Qin Beiming must have encountered some troublesome thing to be so rude.
Therefore, she didn't think of arguing with him. She turned around and followed him around happily, serving him tea and water, treating his wounds and applying medicine, and even helping him escape the pursuers who came to capture him.
Why are you helping me?
Qin Beiming looked at the girl clumsily bandaging the sword wound on his arm and asked coldly.
"You are good-looking."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ling Mo realized something was wrong.
What she meant to say was, "Even in a dream, I don't want you to get hurt," but unexpectedly, the words that came out were so frivolous and inappropriate.
After a moment's thought, I realized that I wasn't the protagonist in the dream.
She was simply placed in the protagonist's first-person perspective.
In other words, the protagonist's words and actions are not something she can control.
"Am I good-looking?"
Qin Beiming raised an eyebrow, staring intently at her innocent face, a strange feeling inexplicably rising in his heart.
"Um."
Ling Mo nodded emphatically, his eyes crinkling with a bright and beautiful smile.
Six years later.
The War King was imprisoned for his outstanding achievements, and as the eldest daughter of the War family, she was also implicated and thrown into the brothel.
Thus, the beloved daughter of the Prince of Zhan's mansion became a lowly courtesan.
Not long after, Qin Beiming returned in triumph, dressed in fine clothes and riding a spirited horse, having risen to the position of a powerful minister and become the second prince of a different surname in the Tianyue Dynasty.
Upon learning that his childhood sweetheart had fallen into prostitution, he disregarded the advice of his strategists and went directly to the brothel. He took her back to the Prince of Qin's mansion after she had been starving for days in the brothel's woodshed and beaten to the point of near death.
Why are you on a hunger strike?
Qin Beiming frowned, his deep eyes as cold as frost and snow.
“They wanted me to drink with them, and when I refused, they beat me severely. They wanted me to sleep with them, and when I refused, they stopped feeding me. To this day, I still don’t know what our Zhan family did wrong to deserve such a disaster.”
Who hit you?
“I don’t remember. A lot of people swarmed around me, kicking me around like I was playing football. Actually, they were no match for me. With the moves you taught me, I could have easily handled them. But if I fought back, they would accuse me of disobeying the imperial decree.”
"From now on, you will stay in the Prince of Qin's residence."
Qin Beiming paused for a moment, settled her in the backyard pavilion, and then hurriedly left.
More than half a month has passed in the blink of an eye.
The maid told Ling Mo that not long ago, Qin Beiming burned down the Jiaofangsi (a government-run entertainment venue) and killed all those arrogant and domineering people there.
Ling Mo knew that Qin Beiming's actions were most likely to avenge her. She had intended to go find him and thank him in front of him, but she happened to overhear the strategist in the mansion talking about Qin Beiming's marriage to the princess.
Upon learning of his marriage, Ling Mo felt a pang of loss and stumbled into the study, looking at him with tearful eyes.
"I heard that the prince is getting married."
"Um."
"And... what about me?"
She knew in her heart that, having become the daughter of a disgraced official, she could never marry him, a man of high rank and power.
However, she did not expect this day to come so soon.
Qin Beiming took a deep breath, slowly put down the military treatise in his hand, his eyes as deep as ink.
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