Marrying a Disabled General and be His Wife

“I’m glad you like it,” Feng Chilie replied, breaking off a peach branch and spinning it on his fingertips. “Do you want to see me dance with a sword?”

“Absolutely!” Tan Chuyan sat on a branch of the peach tree, his legs dangling in the air. “I must watch!”

Although Feng Chilie’s weapon was a speak, he also used a sword sometimes, let alone danced with one. Tan Chuyan watched with curiosity and anticipation.

After a while, Tan Chuyan closed his eyes in frustration.

Feng Chilie’s sword dance was mesmerizing. Standing on the spot, he moved like a wooden stake, showcasing his remarkable marksmanship.

That was right; marksmanship, not swordsmanship. Those two things were indeed different.

Tan Chuyan couldn’t stand it anymore. He quickly jumped in front of Feng Chilie, seized the peach branch, and gestured for him to watch closely: “This is sword dancing.”

Tan Chuyan’s movements flowed gracefully with the sword, each strike seeming harmless but gently dispersing a few peach petals, creating a colorful flurry in the air.

Feng Chilie broke off another peach branch and matched Tan Chuyan’s movements.

Their branches collided, creating a rhythmic tremor.

Tan Chuyan pressed down firmly. “You lied to me! You can wield a sword!”

“Yes,” Feng Chilie admitted with a smirk, raising his wrist to deflect Tan Chuyan’s branch toward him. “As a general, I’m proficient in many skills, including swordsmanship. I just wanted to see you dance with a sword.”

“Feng Chilie!” Tan Chuyan playfully swatted back with his branch. “You’re asking for trouble!”

“Bring it on.”

.

The playful banter escalated into a spirited exchange of blows. Petals fell in abundance as they sparred, filling the air with a sweet fragrance.

Amidst their enjoyment, an angry voice interrupted from the distance: “Who’s there!”

The two froze, exchanging concerned glances.

Tan Chuyan whispered, “Does this peach grove belong to someone?”

“It’s possible,” Feng Chilie replied with a raised eyebrow. “We stumbled upon it in someone else’s backyard.”

“…”

Tan Chuyan released the branches and pulled Feng Chilie away, quickly hiding behind a nearby boulder.

Spotting the approaching owner of the peach grove, Tan Chuyan pinched Feng Chilie’s waist in reproach. “You troublemaker! Look at the mess you’ve caused.”

Feng Chilie grinned. “I’m not the only one getting carried away.”

Tan Chuyan shot him a glare. “You never mentioned this peach forest had an owner!”

The owner, appearing to be a martial artist, soon discovered them. Holding up a peach branch as if ready to fight, he demanded, “Who’s there? Show yourselves!”

Tan Chuyan gave Feng Chilie a resigned look before stepping out from behind the boulder. Feng Chilie followed suit, adjusting his attire as he did so.

Tan Chuyan, dressed in black, bowed respectfully. “My apologies. We didn’t realize this peach grove belonged to someone. We’re willing to compensate for any damages caused.”

“Master?”

The man addressed Tan Chuyan, but it soon became evident that he was actually referring to Feng Chilie, who stood behind Tan Chuyan.

Kneeling before Feng Chilie once more, the man pledged, “This subordinate, welcome back the master.”

Feng Chilie nodded calmly. “Rise and inform the others not to disturb us.”

“Yes.”

As the man departed, Tan Chuyan looked at Feng Chilie with a puzzled expression. “Does this peach forest belong to you?”

“Indeed,” Feng Chilie confirmed, “It’s quite picturesque. I acquired it casually.”

“Why didn’t you mention it earlier?” Tan Chuyan inquired.

“You didn’t ask,” Feng Chilie replied, folding the peach branch. “Want some tour?”

“Lead the way,” Tan Chuyan said, striding forward.

Feng Chilie followed, lifting him up effortlessly and guiding him deeper into the peach forest.

.

They walked until spotting a wooden house. Inside it, though modest in size, everything necessary was provided.

Placing Tan Chuyan on a stool, Feng Chilie asked, “Are you upset?”

Turning his head away, Tan Chuyan muttered, “You’re insufferable.”

“Here, let me cheer you up,” Feng Chilie said, leaning in for a kiss.

Tan Chuyan initially resisted but soon yielded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As Feng Chilie released him, leaving a faint mark on his now-flushed lips, he murmured, “I’m content now.”

Tan Chuyan remarked softly, “Happiness is fleeting.”

“Still better than perpetual misery,” Feng Chilie countered, brushing his cheek. “You needn’t worry about the war; you have me.”

“It’s not that I doubt you,” Tan Chuyan rested his chin on Feng Chilie’s shoulder, “But even the strongest can falter against overwhelming odds like Cui Yuanqing’s forces.”

“So what?” Feng Chilie reassured, patting his back. “Even if he were the King of Heaven, I’d still face him head-on. Who am I, Feng Chilie, to fear anyone, especially with the Wolf Eagle Cavalry by my side? With me here, Cui Yuanqing’s days are numbered.”

“In that case…” Tan Chuyan’s voice softened. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Feng Chilie pledged, “I’ll never let you down.”