Chapter 15
Dawn painted the courtyard in soft gold when Zhen-ting approached her the next morning with an unexpected glint in his eye.
“I want to teach you something.” He stood with the easy confidence of a warrior, hands clasped behind his back.
Yun-yao flushed red and backed away rapidly, hands held up as if to ward him off. “If this is another scene from those stories—”
“No.” His expression turned serious. “Basic defense moves. And horseback riding.”
She blinked. “That’s... highly improper.”
“You're the General’s wife now.” He stepped closer, voice low. “A beautiful woman of high status. There may be times when you need to protect yourself, or make a quick escape.”
“Are you expecting me to fight off assassins?” A laugh bubbled up, but died at his grave expression.
“I won't always be here.” His hand brushed her cheek. “The thought of you defenseless...”
She caught the shadow that crossed his face—real concern, not playacting. Still, she hesitated. “Ladies don't—”
“Ladies should.” He grinned suddenly. “Besides, you've never seemed overly concerned with what ladies should or shouldn't do. How many forbidden romance novels are hidden in your dowry again?”
Heat crept up her neck. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” His eyes danced. “Come. Just try. If anyone questions it, we'll say I insisted.”
She glanced around the empty courtyard. The idea thrilled her—something new, forbidden, practical. Like the stories she read in secret, but real.
“The servants will talk.”
“They wouldn't dare to. The servants are all loyal to the General here.” He held out his hand. “Trust me?”
The question carried weight beyond this moment. After last night, after everything...
She placed her hand in his. “Show me.”
His smile blazed like the rising sun. “First, stance. Here—” He positioned himself behind her, adjusting her posture with careful hands. “If someone grabs you, you want to—”
“Wait.” She turned to face him. “You're not just recreating that scene from The Warrior’s Bride are you? Where he teaches her sword forms?”
Zhen-ting laughed, caught. “Well, maybe I had multiple reasons. But this is genuinely important.” His expression sobered. “I need to know you can protect yourself.”
She studied him, then nodded. “Alright. Teach me. But if you try any of those moves from Chapter Eight—”
His hands dropped to his sides, all humor fading. “I swear on my honor as your husband. This is serious.”
The weight in his voice made her pause. She nodded.
“Good.” He stepped back, assessing her. “First rule: use your opponent’s strength against them. You're smaller, so leverage matters more than force.”
For the next hour, he drilled her, from how to twist free from a wrist grab to where to strike for maximum impact. Her sleeves flapped as she practiced, breath coming faster with each attempt.
“Like this?” She executed a move, nearly losing her balance.
Zhen-ting steadied her, hands warm on her waist. “Almost. Again.”
By the third try, she broke free cleanly. A triumphant laugh escaped her.
“Excellent.” Pride gleamed in his eyes as he reached into his robe. “For when distance is your advantage.” He pressed a small dart bow into her hands, then a dagger with a jade-inlaid hilt. “I'll teach you to use both properly.”
She turned the dagger in the light, testing its weight. “You're arming me like a warrior’s wife.”
“That’s what you are.” His voice roughened. “You are mine to protect. And the best way to protect you is to teach you how to protect yourself.”
The morning sun had climbed higher when Zhen-ting wiped sweat from his brow and suggested, “Let’s rest. Come, I will show you the training grounds.”
Yun-yao hesitated. The outer courtyard—that was men’s domain.
Even in scholarly households, women never ventured there.
Each residence maintained this division: inner quarters for women, outer quarters for men.
The outer courtyard had its own steward who reported directly to the master, bypassing even the lady of the house.
Every lesson of propriety screamed at her to refuse, but she nodded anyway.
She followed Zhen-ting through the stone archways that marked the boundary between her world and his, her heart thudding against her ribs. With each step, she felt the weight of propriety pressing down. No properly raised lady would cross this threshold without grave reason.
They emerged into a vastness that made her gasp.
The training grounds stretched before her, an expansive plain of hard-packed earth nothing like the elegant gardens she was accustomed to.
Practice dummies stood in rows, and weapon racks gleamed in the sunlight.
This was no ordinary household’s outer courtyard with its receiving rooms and study.
This was a military compound within their home.
The air carried the scent of metal and sweat. She inhaled deeply, taking in this unfamiliar world that belonged to her husband.
Shouts, the clash of metal, and the thud of arrows striking targets reached her ears. She stood straighter, conscious of how her silk robes must appear against this backdrop of leather and steel.
“This is the training ground,” he said. “Every guard here is loyal to me and would die to protect you.”
The courtyard was larger than she'd imagined, divided into sections where groups of men drilled with different weapons. As her presence registered, men paused their activities. Eyes widened, then quickly averted in respect.
“How many men train here?” she asked, trying to count the figures now standing at attention.
“About two hundred rotate through daily. My personal guard and the Household Guards.” Zhen-ting gestured toward a raised platform where an officer stood. “Feng Kai oversees most training.”
He guided her up the steps to the platform, the sound of sparring blades ringing below. “This is Feng Kai, head of the Household Guards. He’s been with me since before I earned my first command.”
Feng stepped forward, his movement betraying a slight limp. “Lady Wei.” He bowed deeply, one fist pressed over his heart in military fashion, not the civilian bow she was accustomed to receiving.
“Guards!” Zhen-ting called. “Formation!”
The men moved as one, boots striking the earth in perfect time. Within moments, they stood before her in precise rows, a disciplined display of power unlike anything she had ever witnessed.
“My lady,” Zhen-ting addressed her formally, “these are the guards who protect our home. Guards, this is the Great General’s wife, Lady Wei.”
His voice deepened. “Respect her as you respect me. Protect her as you protect me. Her orders are my orders. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
Two hundred men went absolutely still. No woman—not even a general’s wife—commanded soldiers.
Feng Kai’s eyes widened fractionally before he barked, 'You heard the General!'“
“YES, GENERAL!” The unified shout thundered across the courtyard.
Yun-yao fought to maintain her composure.
For months, he had been stepping into her world of silk screens and subtle courtesies.
Now, she stood in his domain—this realm of straightforward loyalty and unadorned strength.
For all her years of preparation to be a proper wife, nothing had prepared her for this.
As Zhen-ting dismissed the men with a sharp command, Yun-yao stole a glance at him.
This was the General Wei who had conquered battlefields, who commanded the respect of hardened warriors, who had the Emperor’s ear.
Yet this same man had just publicly elevated her authority to match his own, something no husband of her acquaintance would have dreamed of doing.
The afternoon light caught his profile, illuminating the clean line of his jaw, the assured set of his shoulders. In this moment, commanding his men, he was breathtaking—not just handsome, but magnificent in a way that made her heart quicken despite herself.
His head turned, catching her gaze. The intensity in his eyes softened as his lips curved into a gentle smile that transformed his warrior’s face into something heartbreakingly tender.
Her breath caught.
And in that moment, she knew.
I am already hopelessly in love with you.