Legend of the Female General

Chapter 2: Siblings

The spring rain seemed endless, falling ceaselessly.

Yet the room was warm, the stove burning brightly. The lid of the medicine pot boiling atop it was lifted slightly by the steam, and the bubbling sound could be heard clearly.

A girl sat before a mirror, the bronze surface reflecting a slightly pale face—long brows that had lost their lushness, delicate features that had faded with thinness, lips like small water chestnuts, pressed together, elegant yet distant. Her almond-shaped eyes were dark and moist, like a mountain stream gathering mist, the haze slowly dispersing to reveal a glimmering gem. Snowy skin and flower-like beauty, a graceful maiden of sixteen—she was pretty, but only pretty.

She was well aware of her own beauty, hence the small dressing table before her was already crowded with rouge, powder, perfumes, and hair oils. The scent of cosmetics lingered around her, and He Yan wrinkled her nose, unable to suppress a sneeze.

The bronze mirror instantly fogged over with her exhaled breath, obscuring her reflection. For a moment, He Yan felt dazed, as if she had returned to the first time she shed her male disguise—sitting before a mirror just like this, staring at the woman in the reflection, as though lifetimes had passed.

She had been drowned in the Xu family’s pond by He Shi’s men, yet when she awoke, she had become He Yan. Not the He Yan who was the younger sister of the current Flying Goose General, He Rufei, nor the wife of Xu Zhiheng. Instead, she was now the owner of this shabby little house, the eldest daughter of He Sui, a ninth-rank military officer serving as a city gate captain.

Both were named He Yan, yet their statuses were as different as clouds and mud.

"Yan Yan, why didn’t you say anything when you woke up?" A voice came from outside, followed by the rustling of the door curtain as a figure swept in, bringing a gust of cold air.

It was a middle-aged man with a thick beard, a square face, dark skin, and a tall, sturdy frame—like a clumsy yet powerful bear. His smile carried a hint of cautious eagerness. Seeing no one else in the room, he called out loudly, "Qingmei! Where’s Qingmei?"

"Qingmei went to gather herbs," He Yan replied softly.

The man scratched his head. "Ah, then let your father pour it for you."

The white porcelain medicine bowl was smaller than the palm of his hand, and he knew it, so he poured with extra care. The room was soon filled with the bitter fragrance of herbs. He Yan’s gaze moved from the plum blossoms painted on the bowl to the man’s face—this was He Yan’s father, City Gate Captain He Sui.

The word "father" was unfamiliar to He Yan.

Her birth father should have been the second master of the He family, He Yuanliang, but because she had taken He Rufei’s identity, she could only call him "Second Uncle." Meanwhile, her adoptive father, He Yuansheng, was actually her eldest uncle.

Her relationship with her adoptive father had never been close, and when she first proposed learning martial arts, it had plummeted to freezing point. Only after she earned merit and received the emperor’s praise did he warm up to her. In all those years, though the main branch of the family had never deprived her of food or clothing, they never truly understood what was in her heart. As a child, He Yan had thought it was because he wasn’t her real father, yet her birth father, He Yuanliang, had also treated her with indifference. Perhaps a daughter given away was like water spilled—since she hadn’t been raised by his side, affection had naturally faded.

Thus, in He Yan’s mind, the image of a father was far less clear than those of her brothers or subordinates.

Before her, He Sui had already poured the medicine into the bowl, carefully skimming off the dregs floating on the surface before blowing on it gently and bringing it to He Yan, ready to feed her.He Yan took the medicine bowl and said, "I'll do it myself."

The man withdrew his hand, awkwardly replying, "Alright."

Steam curled up from the medicinal broth. He Yan hesitated as she stared at the bowl before her, recalling the words He Shi had uttered before her death.

"That bowl of poison that blinded you was personally delivered by your clan elder!"

Clan elder—was it He Yuansheng? Or He Yuanliang? Or someone else? Xu Zhiheng knew about it, but what about the others?

She also remembered the cup of hot tea Xiao Die had handed her on the day she was drowned. Who could tell whether things offered by others concealed malicious intent?

Seeing her hesitation, He Sui assumed she disliked the bitterness and coaxed with a smile, "Don't be afraid, Yan Yan. It's not bitter. You'll feel better after drinking it."

No longer hesitating, He Yan pressed the bowl to her lips and downed the medicine in one gulp before He Sui could say more.

"Wait—" He Sui barely got the word out as she set the empty bowl on the table. He finished weakly, "It's hot..."

"Not hot," He Yan replied.

At a loss for words, He Sui mumbled a few times before softly instructing, "Then rest well in your room. Don't wander around. Father is going to the training grounds now." He took the empty bowl with him.

Left alone again, He Yan exhaled slightly. She still wasn't accustomed to such intimate interactions, especially in the identity of a woman—a pampered young lady raised with utmost indulgence.

The maid Qingmei hadn't returned yet. He Sui's monthly salary was meager; as a mere honorary military officer, the city gate captain held little real authority, and his pay was pitifully small. The household relied solely on his income, barely affording a single maid. The rest of the money had likely been spent on the cosmetics cluttering Miss He's dressing table.

He Yan stood and walked to the door.

This body was soft and delicate, like fine jade, fragrant and tender—utterly unfamiliar to her. Without strength, she couldn't protect herself. The only notable advantage was a pair of clear, bright eyes, allowing her to see the world's light again after so long.

A heavy thud sounded behind her. He Yan turned to see a youth standing before her, unloading a bundle of firewood from his shoulders.

The boy was young, about He Yan's current age. He wore a fitted blue tunic with matching trousers, his legs wrapped in white cloth for ease of labor. His slightly tanned features bore a fifty percent resemblance to He Yan's—delicate and distinct—though his narrower jaw lent him a resolute, stubbornly proud air.

This was the younger brother of the He family's eldest daughter, He Sui's youngest son, He Yunsheng.

During the days He Yan had been bedridden, He Yunsheng had visited a few times, always to deliver water or tend the brazier, never exchanging a word with her. Their sibling relationship seemed strained. Yet... He Yan glanced at He Yunsheng's ill-fitting, coarse clothes, then at her own finely tailored blue satin dress with pink lining, and understood somewhat—though it still puzzled her.

In that other He family, women existed solely to pave the way for men, who were treated as the center of the universe. But here, it was different. Strangely, the biological son seemed like an afterthought, while all the family's resources were lavished solely on the eldest daughter. Why was that?He Yan stood firmly in front of He Yun Sheng, not moving an inch. He Yun Sheng stacked the firewood under the eaves and began chopping it.

This family was truly poor. Their only servant was a maidservant, while their own son did the work of a servant boy.

The pile of firewood was right in front of He Yan. He Yun Sheng chopped a couple of times before frowning slightly. "Excuse me, move aside. You're in my way."

Not even calling her "elder sister."

He Yan remained motionless, neither stepping aside nor mocking him sharply as she usually did. He Yun Sheng couldn't help but look up, meeting He Yan's serious gaze.

He Yan said, "The way you're chopping firewood—it's no good."

(End of Chapter)