General Chang Ning

When Jiang Hanyuan was thirteen, she first met the man called Jinmei in her father’s military camp. At that time, the young Prince of Anle was touring the frontier on behalf of the Son of Heaven, inspecting the borders and rewarding the troops.

Many years passed—so many that Jiang Hanyuan had nearly forgotten that late autumn morning—until one day she was told that he had asked her father for her hand, wishing to take her as his wife.

By then, he was already the regent within the capital’s imperial halls: seated high in the halls of power, assisting the throne, his authority overshadowing the court.

She would gladly serve as the soldier before his horse, flatten mountains and fill seas for him, open borders and win lands, even die without regret.

Yet, aside from herself, no second soul in this world would ever know that the swift horse chasing the wind, the bowstring’s startling cry, and that frost‑lit dawn beyond the frontier had once been the single bright color in all the desolate dreams of her girlhood.

No one would know.

And in this lifetime, there would never be another.