When Ms Fan finally arrived in the encampment, the members of the Blood-Clad Cavalry, of course, took a deep interest.
They learnt that Ms Fan was not a refined lady trained in etiquette and writing poetry like many noble women. She did not glide when she walked, nor did she lower her gaze with poetic restraint. She did not recite verses, play the zither, or pretend to eat three grains of rice before declaring herself full.
She was a butcher. She argued like a storm, fought like she had been personally trained by misfortune, lifted heavy metalworks as though they were her daily exercise, and cooked braised pork so good it made hardened soldiers briefly reconsider their allegiance to violence.
After witnessing her performance at the Lin’an yamen—where she not only held her own but very nearly rearranged Sui Yangqing’s understanding of existence—Xie Qi came to several conclusions.
First, her martial skills were good enough to keep up with Hou-ye.
Second, her temper was good enough to fight Hou-ye.
And third—Her attitude was strong enough to put the Marquis of Wu’an in his place.
She was one of the only people who dared to say ‘no’ to their Hou-ye. While others would worry they would lose their heads, Madam Fan even confronted the Marquis at any given day when she thought he was crossing the line. She even slapped him.
Hou-ye did not just allow it. He accepted it. (Xie Qi had seen other men die for significantly less action, let alone involving hurting his pretty face).
This made Xie Qi, along with several other soldiers, find her… rather endearing (In a strictly respectful and entirely platonic way).
This, however, was not information he intended to share with his lord, as he valued his life.
Hou-ye refused to acknowledge anything.
Not his sudden clingy behaviour. Not his hidden motivations to be left alone with her every chance he got. Not the sudden action of a helpless damsel in distress (Xie Qi knew his Hou-ye was perfectly capable of applying the salve to his wound or taking the medicinal concoction himself instead being spoon-fed). Not the increasingly obvious pattern of events that even the densest member of the Blood-Clad Cavalry had already pieced together with alarming clarity that their Hou-ye had fallen stupidly in love.
One day, his gryfalcon returned with blood on its wing..
A normal man might investigate.
Hou-ye mobilised a hundred elite soldiers and ordered them to wipe out an entire bandit stronghold.
Yet, they failed to find her.
This resulted in Hou-ye sitting alone on a set of stairs, holding a blue ribbon like a widower in a tragic opera, staring into the distance as though contemplating the meaninglessness of existence.
Then he sent the falcon again. The next thing they know, they run after it—for an unreasonable amount of time, across terrain that strongly suggested divine punishment, only to find his butcher wife at the foot of a mountain.
Naturally, from that point onward, logic ceased to apply.
Hou-ye refused to let anyone else carry her, personally oversaw her recovery, and, for reasons that could only be described as excessive—ordered the already-dead bandits to be hanged and gutted again, and left it to cure like bacon for three solid days.
He stayed by her side while she burned with fever, guarding her like a man who had suddenly discovered mortality and disliked it intensely.
At that point, Xie Qi privately concluded that the only honourable solution to this situation was marriage because his Hou-ye was a gentleman—which, inconveniently, had already occurred.
Then, upon learning Prince Sui Yuanqing had taken an interest in Madam Fan—“interest” being a term used here with great generosity—Hou-ye reacted with a level of fury that strongly suggested multiple immediate executions and beheading, possibly scheduled before lunch. Xie Wu swore he could feel the heat of Hou-ye's jealousy from outside the building. That night, they did not start the fire outside.
He left his recovering wife under the protection of two of his best men while he went to personally hunt down the unfortunate individual who had very nearly sampled his wife’s skin.
Xie Qi would like to clarify something.
The word best. In hindsight, it was less a compliment… and more a deeply layered form of sarcasm.
Because those two “best” guard—trained, experienced, battle-hardened, survivors of countless campaigns—had failed the simple guarding this feverish, young lady job spectacularly.
Xie Qi, regrettably, was one of those two.
Yes, Madam Fan escaped them—all done while carrying an elderly, blind woman. It was Xie Qi's first heart-stopping moment.
He chose, for the sake of his mental stability, not to investigate how this had occurred.
Shortly after, Madam Fan nearly fell to her death the second time when she accidentally dropped her wrist guard. That was the second heart-stopping moment.
Hou-ye, of course, like any wuxia hero out of a novel—appeared at the exact moment required to save her—wearing a mask, because he thought covering his face would make her not recognise him—and proceeded to interrogate her in a voice loud enough to frighten large animals.
Xie Qi found this… confusing.
His Hou-ye was all teary the night before over this girl (he even proposed to her while she was unconscious and told her if she kept quiet, he would take it as a ‘yes’), and the next minute he was yelling at her.
In the end, she ran—straight into the lap of another handsome, available bachelor—Lord Li.
Life was truly full of contradiction.
“If he likes her,” Xie Qi asked cautiously, “Why did he let her go with another man?” He remembered the look on Hou-ye's face as Madam Fan climbed into Li Huaian's carriage. Looking like a 'sad ghost' would be a perfect portrayal.
“Why don’t you ask Hou-ye yourself?”
The traditional method of committing suicide. "You can just say you don't know," Xie Qi said with a snort.
To make matters worse, among all the people aware of Hou-ye’s identity—His wife remained completely uninformed. Completely. She did not know she had married a Marquis: A war hero. A man capable of reducing cities to historical footnotes.
Xie Qi could not understand this decision. Most women would consider it a blessing. After all, what was better than marrying a handsome man? Marrying a handsome, powerful, extremely wealthy man.
And yet—Hou-ye kept quiet.
As though he was…. afraid.
But what was the Marquis of Wu’an afraid of?
This question led to the most alarming discovery of all.
His Hou-ye, the man who fought like a storm, who had skilfully massacred the entire town of his enemy, was afraid to…. The word ‘divorce’.
Xie Wu told him that their Hou-ye reacted to it like a man who had just been stabbed.
Not metaphorically. Viscerally.
“I’ve seen him wounded before,” Xie Wu told him what he accidentally saw while Madam Fan was attending his Hou-ye’s wound. “This was worse. As soon as she said the word ‘divorce’...I thought he was going to die.”
Xie Qi considered this carefully.
Then came to a deeply troubling conclusion—
If their enemies ever discovered this weakness, there would be no need for swords.
Just a stack of divorce papers.
And the Marquis of Wu’an would fall on the spot.
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
dededos
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
