Unyielding Spring Mountains - Chapter 89: Seizing the Bride

Chapter 89: Seizing the Bride

To be discovered by one’s own father with a man in her room—no less a shirtless man—was enough to plunge anyone into unbearable embarrassment.

Wei Zhen’s ears rang with a loud buzz. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, quickly stepping between Qi Yan and her father, saying, “Father.”

The King of Wei glanced at his daughter, then at the half-dressed Qi Yan, and it became immediately clear what must have transpired moments before.

“Father, we haven’t seen one another in so long. He came to Wei especially to visit me…” Wei Zhen’s voice was soft, flustered, tinged with a pleading note—as though afraid the king would place blame on Qi Yan.

He said nothing at first, but seeing his daughter’s expression, he shut his eyes briefly and addressed Qi Yan: “You two—see to your clothing. Come speak with me after.”

With that, he turned and left for the outer hall. Wei Zhen looked over at Qi Yan. The two had just been swept up in passion, and the heat in their bodies had not yet faded. Meeting each other’s eyes now, it was impossible not to feel the awkward weight in the air.

Qi Yan raised a hand, embracing her and gently stroking her back. “It’s fine. I’ll go speak with your father.”

Wei Zhen’s cheeks were crimson. “I’m going with you.”

“There’s no need, Zhen’er. He meant to speak with me alone. This is between men.”

He patted her shoulder reassuringly, adjusted his robe quickly, and walked out.

The King stood by the window. Hearing footsteps approach, he turned. Qi Yan had already lowered his head and bowed respectfully: “Your Majesty.”

He slowly straightened his waist, revealing a striking face—elegant, noble, with a hero’s bearing.

The name “Qi Yan” was not unfamiliar to the King of Wei. Over the years, he and his father had guarded the borders of Chu like an impregnable wall. In all their skirmishes with Wei, they had never suffered a single loss. Not only had Wei gained nothing from those encounters, they had even lost territories.

The King had once mused: if only such a commander served under him, Wei would have long emerged from its corner in the northwest and marched east with pride.

But he had never imagined that this name would one day become linked to his daughter.

Upon hearing about his daughter’s affair with this young man from the Prime Minister, the King had ordered background investigations done.

Rumors claimed Qi Yan was noble in character, exceptional in appearance—and now, seeing him in person, the king found those rumors to be true.

He gazed at Qi Yan and said slowly, “You’re calling me ‘father-in-law’ quite easily, but I’ve yet to determine whether you’re worthy of being called so. Have you come to borrow troops?”

His tone was cold and emotionless.

Qi Yan replied with a calm smile, “Your Majesty, no. I have come not for troops—but for the Princess.”

“Oh?” The King turned to him.

Qi Yan bowed once more. “I’ve come to Wei to propose marriage. I admire the Princess, and the affection is mutual. I humbly ask Your Majesty to grant me her hand.”

The King clearly hadn’t expected that. He had assumed Qi Yan came for political gain.

Shadow and candlelight mingled on Qi Yan’s composed face. His tone was steady, gaze earnestly bright—not overly humble, but with deep sincerity and aristocratic refinement.

The King didn’t reply immediately. He looked out at the thin rain cascading beyond the window, then said, “You’re not the only one who wants to marry my daughter. A marriage alliance was already arranged with the Seventh Prince of Jin. Why should I violate that pact and let her marry you instead?”

Qi Yan’s lashes lowered slightly, then he met the King’s gaze. “Your Majesty may have already heard from the Prime Minister. The Princess cares deeply for me.”

The King cut him off. “But it was your grandfather who arranged that marriage—without knowing my daughter’s true identity. Had he known, do you think he would still have approved? Go back.”

“Your Majesty.” Qi Yan called again.

The boy’s eyes were bright, clear as autumn water. The King began to understand what his daughter saw in him—with a face like fine jade, noble bearing, an illustrious background, and considerable military talent—how could a girl not feel drawn to him?

Qi Yan said, “You’ve mentioned that the Princess has a standing engagement. But in the end, who she marries still rests with Your Majesty. If you feel I fall short in any way, please voice it. I will prove myself.”

No matter how many obstacles the King placed before him, Qi Yan remained unshaken.

The King finally spoke bluntly: “Indeed, I am unsatisfied with you.”

“Please say plainly, Your Majesty.”

“The man I would choose as my son-in-law must meet three conditions. First, he must be someone my daughter truly loves. Second, he must care for her with genuine affection. You fulfill the first, and I cannot yet say about the second.”

When Qi Yan moved to speak, the King gestured for him to hold. “The third—that he be capable of protecting her, of standing above and shielding her from anything in this world. But Qi Yan… based on your current position, I cannot yet have that confidence in you.”

“I can prove it to Your Majesty,” Qi Yan said.

The dripping of the clepsydra echoed through the still hall.

“I understand your hesitation. To marry your daughter to me now is to announce your alliance with me. Rest assured, I will not make our marriage public until the matter of the throne is settled. It’s for Wei’s sake—as well as Zhen’er’s. Should I lose the war, she will not be caught in the scandal.”

He continued, “But that’s the worst-case scenario. If my side gains the upper hand, I trust Your Majesty would ally with me then. Watching from the sidelines brings no benefit. Risks must be taken to gain the greatest reward.”

Dissecting the king’s concerns so precisely—while insisting their marriage not be made public—only made the King reevaluate Qi Yan more highly.

This was truly for Wei Zhen’s sake.

The King considered for a moment. Perhaps this man had come sincerely to propose marriage.

Qi Yan lifted the hem of his robe and knelt before him.

He was a prince and commander. By rank and protocol, he had no need to kneel. Clearly—it was as a son-in-law that he did so, as Zhen’er’s husband.

There was not the slightest hint of retreat in him.

The King took a long breath and glanced toward the curtain, where his daughter stood quietly watching them. “Your army is stationed in the southeast of Jin, yes? I’ll give you four months. If you can march north and seize five major strongholds, I will believe in your capability.”

Qi Yan looked up. The King asked, “Can you do it?”

To take one strategic city often requires at least ten days, sometimes months. Of course, a city might surrender without resistance—but five cities in four months would require flawless planning and luck.

Before the king could elaborate, Qi Yan said firmly: “I can.”

“Five cities, then it will be.”

“Father.” Wei Zhen stepped forward. “Isn’t four months a little too short? Can you give him more time?”

“No need—four months is enough,” Qi Yan answered.

“Then so be it. I hope you return victorious,” the king said.

Wei Zhen went to help Qi Yan rise, her eyes full of concern. Turning to the King, she asked, “Father, now that you’ve finished speaking with him, may your daughter say a few words too?”

The King nodded. “Of course, Yangyang.”

The sky was dimming. Wei Zhen asked Qi Yan to remain at the palace while she escorted the King back to his hall.

Rain poured down onto the carriage sides. Wei Zhen helped her father aboard and joined him inside. As they drove off, neither spoke, silence reigning inside until Wei Zhen finally said:

“Father, I never told you before—but Qi Yan and I are already married.”

The King looked surprised. “When did this happen?”

She explained. “When we were lost in the wilderness, we made vows to heavens and pledged marriage before the gods. Still, he wished to formally greet you and gain your approval.”

The King’s brows furrowed slightly. “So that’s how it is.”

“He avoided meeting you not out of rudeness, but because you were ill and couldn’t see guests. He also couldn’t reveal his identity and had to sneak into Wei in disguise. About what happened tonight—I apologize on his behalf.”

She could understand that any father would be upset to discover a man in his young daughter’s room.

The King embraced her. “There’s no need to apologize. He is the man you met beyond our borders, the one you freely gave your heart to. If you love him, then I am in no position to object.”

She looked up in surprise.

“My only worry was that he might not treat you well—that he might have ulterior motives.”

“He doesn’t, Father,” she grasped his hand firmly. “He treats me with great care, and his character is trustworthy. Did you know I once had eye trouble and couldn’t see at night?”

The King’s expression changed. She continued, “It was he who ran all over to find someone to treat me. Anything I say casually—he always remembers. He protected me on my journey to be married, risked his life for me, stayed by me through life-and-death situations. He’s always been sincere.”

She told him everything that had happened.

The King asked, “Truly? He’s always treated you so?”

She nodded. “Yes. He’s never once changed.”

The King looked down, sighing. “You’ve been away so long… perhaps you’ve spent more time with him than with me. I was afraid that this would create distance between us. That if I refused, we’d grow apart. But Zhen’er—even if he loves you, whether he has what it takes is another matter. What if Qi Yan loses this war?”

“That’s why I want to wait until things are more certain before blessing your marriage. He said he would prove himself—and for your sake, I’m willing to believe him. You don’t feel like I’m trying to make things harder, do you?”

She shook her head and threw herself into his arms.

He gently wiped her tears. “Why are you crying?”

Wei Zhen replied, “Don’t say that, Father. You’re not an outsider. I’d never hold anything against you.”

The King had never planned to interfere in her marriage. He only worried that he hadn’t done enough. Holding her against his chest, he felt her affection.

“But you must always prepare for the worst,” he said.

“I understand, Father,” she replied.

The carriage arrived. Attendants came to help them down with umbrellas.

Outside, night was falling fast. The King sighed. “I still have concerns. Will you stay tonight and tell me everything—from the beginning—about how you and Qi Yan came to be?”

She nodded, without hesitation, and sent word to Qi Yan that she wouldn’t return.

Inside his chambers, father and daughter spoke late into the night. Wei Zhen recounted all: from their meeting to vow of marriage, every detail.

By the third watch, she finally lay down to rest. Upon waking early the next day, she went to greet her father. But as she approached, she heard a familiar voice:

“When does Your Majesty wish me to return to the front?”

“After tonight, I depart tomorrow,” said Qi Yan.

She pushed the door open. The two men inside looked up.

“Zhen’er, you’re here?” her father smiled.

She went to the king, glancing at the chessboard between the two. Black and white pieces were still battling, but white had the upper hand.

“Have you been playing chess, Father?”

“Yes,” the King replied, lifting a black piece. “If he wants to marry you, I must test his abilities. An ordinary man is not worthy of my daughter—is he?”

Placing the black piece with a crisp click, he said, “Your move.”

Wei Zhen observed the board. In the end, the King won.

Qi Yan set down his piece and smiled. “Your Majesty has excellent technique. I admit defeat.”

The King sipped his tea. “Your ability to yield gracefully is also a skill.”

Wei Zhen cast a worried glance at Qi Yan, fearing her father might take offense. But he said no more. Instead, he brought out a map and asked Qi Yan for insight on military strategy—questions Qi Yan answered fluidly.

Throughout the day, Qi Yan accompanied the King. In the afternoon, he was asked to join in calligraphy and painting. Later, archery targets were set up in the courtyard and he was made to demonstrate his skill.

At the end, Wei Zhen asked, “Father, are you satisfied with Qi Yan?”

The King simply said, “He’s adequate. Only his painting lacks refinement.”

Wei Zhen laughed. “He’s a general; wars come easier to him than brushworks.”

The King glanced at her, amused. “Of course you’d defend him. But as a general, are you hoping he’ll discuss art and tea with you once the war ends?”

She smiled, “Once the war is over, I’ll teach him everything myself.”

She helped grind ink for the King. “So is today’s trial finished? May I go see him now?”

Knowing he’d be leaving at dawn, the King waved her off. “Go.”

She lifted her skirts and ran, nearly stumbling over the threshold. A hand steadied her—it was Qi Yan, waiting nearby. Their eyes met, and he motioned that they part ways before heading off separately.

Back at her quarters, Wei Zhen heard footsteps and turned, throwing herself into his arms. “I don’t want you to go.”

Her hands reached up, tugging at the mask on his face, revealing his true features.

“The last time we parted at Chouyou, we said we’d see each other soon. But it was three months… and next time?”

Qi Yan smoothed her frown with a finger. His eyes were filled with tenderness. “It won’t be that long again. I’ll be pushing northward—closer to you. After every major battle, I’ll come see you.”

He hoisted her lightly onto the desk.

Whispers turned into embraces. Outside, the wind stirred the bamboo curtains. Their shadows—entwined—fell across the wall. The peony in the vase swayed gently in the breeze.

Wei Zhen’s hand reached for the belt at his waist. Qi Yan didn’t stop her, only deepened the kiss.

Wind rustled her skirt into waves around her hips. Fingertips threaded together. Slowly, she pulled at his shoulder. He brushed the flower hairpin from her temple, letting her long hair fall over her shoulders.

Her lips trembled. Her eyes shimmered with emotion.

“Qi Yan,” she whispered. “There’s something I never told you.”

His throat bobbed. “What is it?”

“On my way back to Wei, I encountered Ji Yuan. He took me back to Jin Palace.”

He froze.

“He forced a marriage upon me.”

“Did he hurt you?” Qi Yan asked, veins in his arms pulsing.

“No. If he had, I wouldn’t have made it back. To escape him, I made a deal.”

“What sort of deal?”

“I said I would agree to the marriage and help him meddle in Wei politics—if he’d let me return first.”

Her words made Qi Yan’s eyes darken.

His fist clenched on the table. Seeing her wince slightly, her cheeks flushing, he paused.

She gasped, “It was only a ruse. I never meant to marry him.”

He bit her ear lightly. “I know.”

Rain beat on the window. Her hair swayed as he kissed her again.

“I also signed a pact. If he fails to unify Jin within three years, I’ll still be forced to marry…”

She felt his body stiffen under her. Her cheeks burned.

“You intend to marry him?” he asked.

Wei Zhen shook her head. “Of course not. If I tear up the agreement, what can he do?”

Brushing hair from her cheek, he murmured, “If you truly did, I’d never let that wedding go forward.”

His breath brushed her face.

Wei Zhen laughed. “So you mean you’d crash the wedding?”

“Would you leave with me then?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she traced kisses along his nose.

“Then the world will talk about us. The Princess of Wei, running away from a marriage to elope with Qi Yan. How did the Marquis capture her heart?”

Qi Yan’s gaze darkened. He chuckled softly.

With a rip, her skirt was torn. Wei Zhen gasped, but before she could say another word, he had captured her mouth.

The curtain swayed. The vase toppled. She reached out blindly and grasped a fallen peony.

Amid the haze, she heard him whisper at her ear, thick with desire: “Zhen’er, you belong to me for life.”

Night deepened. The vase hit the floor. The peony’s petals scattered across the table—crushed, trembling, and glistening with dew.

After the bath, Wei Zhen lay weak in bed. Qi Yan embraced her from behind.

“I know your days in Wei can’t be easy. I’ve brought someone to help. He’ll arrive soon after I leave.”

Wei Zhen turned. “Who?”

He kissed her back softly. “You’ll see. He’ll help you find your footing in the Wei court.”

Fireflies flitted past. Under the moonlight, the young couple, freshly reunited, fell into restful sleep.

At dawn, Wei Zhen disguised herself as a maid and snuck into his carriage to escort him out.

Qi Yan held her tightly. “Whenever there’s a lull in the battle, I’ll come back. This time, I’ve arranged someone to stay in the capital. I won’t go three months without sending a letter again.”

Wei Zhen nodded, unwilling to let go of his robes. “No matter what happens out there—promise to stay safe.”

He kissed the back of her hand before departing.

Watching him, she believed him again—as she always had.

Back in her room, Wei Zhen began preparing to face the challenges of Wei’s political court.

And a few days later, she learned just who Qi Yan had sent.

Knock knock.

She opened the door—and standing there, sword at his hip, robed in black, was a tall young man whose figure veiled half the daylight behind him. As he turned, the light caught his fierce yet handsome eyes.

Wei Zhen froze, joy bubbling under her skin. She rushed down the steps and threw herself into his arms.

“A-Ling!”

Wei Ling returned the embrace firmly. “Sister… It’s been too long.”