Cold War

The Imperial Seal, by the Mandate of Heaven, commands: General Pan, at the Battle of Moon City, not only preserved our forces but also reclaimed Moon City. This fills Our heart with satisfaction. Therefore, We decree that Pan Yueyang must return swiftly to the imperial capital, for We shall bestow rewards upon you and your troops. Pan Yueyang is to marry his beloved daughter without delay...

Whatever else followed, Yan'er could no longer recall. Her mind thundered, blood rushing; she had not expected it to happen so quickly...

"Madam?" Just after bowing in gratitude for the imperial favor, Yan'er slowly collapsed to the ground.

Pan Yueyang scooped her up in his arms and rushed into the tent.

Yan'er regained some clarity and looked at Pan Yueyang. "Leave."

He said nothing, but did as she asked.

"It seems I shall return with General Pan," Mu Qianxue remarked, glancing at the tent. That weak woman—how typical of a country girl, thinking a man’s many wives are unusual.

"Then, Princess, please prepare your belongings." Pan Yueyang could barely mask his dislike for her.

"General Pan~" Mu Qianxue slipped in front of him. "I have always admired you. Now, judging by the edict... If Yueyang wishes, I would trade the entire Tianfeng for you alone, without regret." Her gaze lingered on him, seductive and sly.

"Heh, I am not so capable. Princess, it would be wise for you to consider your own future," Pan Yueyang replied, his heart weighed down by Yan’er's coldness; he had no patience for Mu Qianxue.

"Oh? Now, wherever I go, I am but a fallen princess without a country. I understand that. But Yueyang, do you know why Guan Canghai kept me alive? And why he seeks the Imperial Seal?" Mu Qianxue eyed him shrewdly.

Her words startled Pan Yueyang. From what he had learned of Guan Canghai, the man was wild and unconstrained, unafraid of the world’s scorn, ready to seize Tianfeng. Yet he had made no bold moves; surely it was not just for the seal? If he wished, he could forge a new one and found a new dynasty outright!

"Oh?" Pan Yueyang’s interest was piqued.

Mu Qianxue smiled prettily. "Tianfeng’s prosperity, its full treasury and contented people, is Tianfeng’s blessing—not Guan Canghai’s. There is more to it than meets the eye." She deliberately teased him.

"Speak plainly," Pan Yueyang demanded, disliking riddles.

"In his final hour, my father locked all the treasures of the state within a secret chamber. The Imperial Seal is not only a symbol of Tianfeng—it is the key to a vast hidden treasure. That seal opens the vault." Mu Qianxue leaned close, her voice soft and tender.

Pan Yueyang’s mind raced; a subtle smile played on his lips. No wonder Guan Canghai had not harmed Mu Qianxue—killing her would be easy, but he needed her to unlock the treasure.

"Well? Are you interested, General Pan?" Mu Qianxue saw his changing demeanor and knew she had wagered correctly.

"Pass the order—prepare the army to return." Pan Yueyang commanded the soldiers without hesitation.

In a flash, the entire Panlong army broke camp, packing and readying for the march.

Yan’er lay in the carriage, her heart deadened. Why bother with anything? Like a doll, she never stepped outside, only watching as soldiers replaced untouched meals with fresh ones—each dish left untouched.

Her cold, death-seeking demeanor left Pan Yueyang at a loss. He did not know how to comfort her. Lifting the curtain, Pan Yueyang sat opposite Yan’er.

"Must you be so stubborn still?" he asked, worried. She sat quietly, her eyes void of all light, as if she had been emptied out—his heart ached.

Yan’er slowly turned to look at him, her hatred deepening.

"What must I do to make you eat?" Pan Yueyang clenched his fists, longing to smash the carriage.

Yan’er turned away, ignoring him, her gaze vacant and fixed.

"If you want your family in Suhe Prefecture to remain safe... I advise you to obey me." Had it not been for her health, Pan Yueyang would never have resorted to such threats.

Yan’er’s expression shifted; she glared at him, furious. She had not expected he would threaten her with her parents.

"Well? Have you thought it through? I’ll be watching how you behave," he said, stepping out of the carriage.

Yan’er felt her chest crushed by a giant stone; she gasped for breath, each inhalation ending in pain, her tears flooding her vision like a broken dam.

From that day, Yan’er began eating her three meals, though only sparingly. Pan Yueyang was relieved and approached the carriage.

"Come out for a walk," he said, lifting the curtain.

Yan’er obediently stepped down, her feet shaky. Pan Yueyang caught her to prevent a fall; she coldly pulled her arm away. Not caring, she walked slowly around the carriage, like a puppet following orders. Pan Yueyang turned his face aside.

"Mubai has already left," he said, stroking the horse tied to the carriage.

Yan’er kept walking, circling the carriage.

Seeing that Yan’er showed no reaction to Bai Li Mubai’s departure, Pan Yueyang gave a bitter smile. He should be glad—glad Yan’er had no feelings for his junior brother. Yet how could he rejoice? She was indifferent to everything now.

"I’m tired," Yan’er said, climbing the steps and shutting the curtain.

She leaned against the bed inside the carriage. Mubai, it is just as well you left...

Days blurred by in confusion. At last, the army reached the outskirts of the imperial capital. Pan Yueyang recalled the morning of his expedition, when Bai Li Mubai brought Yan’er to the hill to see him off. A gentle smile crossed his face as he led his horse.

"Yan’er, come out for some fresh air," he called from outside.

Yan’er rose and stepped out obediently.

With a sudden motion, Pan Yueyang lifted Yan’er onto horseback. She clung to him in alarm. "Ah! What are you doing?" Though she had ridden before, she was always afraid.

"Hush, hold on to me," he said, noticing how light she had become.

With a sharp crack, the whip struck, and the horse surged forward, galloping wildly.

"Ah!" Yan’er turned away from the rushing landscape, pressing herself tightly against him, clutching his body.

Pan Yueyang grinned at her anxiety. "Be good, with me here, nothing will happen."

His gentle words made Yan’er stiffen; realizing she was clinging to this cold-hearted man, she stubbornly let go. The horse’s speed nearly threw her off, but strong arms held her fast.

"Let go!" Yan’er struggled on horseback, suspecting Pan Yueyang was deliberately making the horse run wild.

"If I let go, aren’t you afraid you’ll fall?" His lips brushed her cheek.

Yan’er wanted to argue, but his sudden kiss brought back all the emotions she had tried to bury; embarrassed, she gripped his collar tightly.

"Do you remember when I set out, Mubai brought you to the hill to see me off? It was only a distant glimpse, but no one had ever seen me off before—only my father’s words echoed in my ears." They had reached the hilltop; the horse grazed quietly, and Yan’er kept her head lowered.

"What did he say to you?" Yan’er asked, curious. She had never met Pan Yueyang’s father, but in this peaceful moment, she let go of her coldness.

"He only told me to return with honors," Pan Yueyang replied, as if speaking of someone else’s life.

Yan’er looked up sharply; he was not looking at her, but gazing into the distance.

"My father never told me to come back safely. He only taught me to win, or else be shamed." Pan Yueyang smiled, his gaze falling on her face.

"So..." Yan’er began to understand.

"So I became cold-hearted. At sixteen, I entered the battlefield, witnessing countless deaths. But every battle needed one outcome—victory, nothing else." Pan Yueyang ruffled her hair.

Perhaps his upbringing made him willing to sacrifice anything, even himself, for victory. Yan’er smiled bitterly.

"Yan’er, forgive me." Even his apologies were lofty, his tone unchanged.

A fortress in Yan’er’s heart began to crumble. She liked Yueyang, loved him; just as on horseback, she did not want to be close to him, yet in moments of crisis, she sought his protection and care without hesitation. This feeling could not be altered. Yan’er stroked Pan Yueyang’s face, his strong features always so domineering.

Pan Yueyang gently touched her belly. "It’s three months now—a brave little thing." Yan’er, always sheltered, had endured more in these days than most would in a lifetime. Though frail, she had managed to keep the child safe; this child was destined for greatness.

At his words, Yan’er quickly looked at her belly under his hand, unease rising. "I believe I have nothing to do with you. I hope General Pan will not treat me so lightly."

Pan Yueyang stared at her, stunned. The warmth in her face moments ago—was it all false? How could she suddenly become so cold?

"I hope, when you return home, you will let me go," Yan’er said, clutching her dress tightly. She could not let herself soften. If Yueyang stayed until her child was born and discovered… it was better not to let him suffer—let Yan’er bear it all herself.

"Do you know what you’re saying?" Pan Yueyang’s face darkened.

"I’m tired," Yan’er turned away, looking at the distant scenery.

Pan Yueyang pulled the reins hard, whipping the horse into a furious gallop. "Let me tell you this—if I die, you will still be mine! You will never leave the general’s mansion for the rest of your life!"