Chapter One
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Chapter 1
On the night of the full moon, the sky was dark and the wind was fierce.
The Tang family villa.
“Oh no, Shihan’s cold constitution is acting up again!”
Tang Shihan’s parents were beside themselves with worry, while the other relatives merely watched with indifferent eyes—some even secretly delighted, for they all knew that as long as Tang Shihan succumbed to her illness, the competition for head of the Tang family would lose a formidable contender.
The Dowager Madam Tang had three sons; Shihan’s father was the second among them. Unfortunately, none of the three had notable abilities, while the next generation—Shihan’s peers—were exceptionally talented. Yet fate played a cruel joke: every one of that generation was a woman.
Thus, the Dowager had no choice but to select her successor from among her granddaughters, but with one condition—the successor must marry a husband who joins the family and bear a male heir within a year.
But Tang Shihan was born with a frigid constitution. Every full moon, her body would turn cold as ice, the pain nearly unbearable. Marriage and childbirth were out of the question; even her own life seemed to hang by a thread.
“Such is fate’s cruelty. Shihan is so capable, the deputy general manager of the company, highly respected—yet even heaven is envious of the talented; beauty rarely accompanies longevity.”
“Yes, second brother, don’t worry. We’ll think of a way to cure her.”
“That’s right, we must cure Shihan!”
Though their words were comforting, in their hearts, they wished for nothing more than Shihan’s swift demise. Only then would the inheritance fall into their hands.
How could Shihan’s parents not know what these relatives truly thought? Watching their hypocritical faces, both grief and anger welled within them.
Just then, a servant announced, “Doctor Xiao is here!”
Lin Yuzhen, Shihan’s mother, was overjoyed. “Quickly, please invite him in!”
Before long, an elderly man in a white robe entered.
Doctor Xiao was a renowned healer in Yunchuan City, the president of the Yunchuan Medical Alliance, famed for his miraculous skills and profound knowledge.
Tears streaming, Lin Yuzhen pleaded, “Doctor Xiao, you must save my daughter! This attack is far worse than before.”
Doctor Xiao sighed. “I’ll do my best.”
He stepped forward and performed acupuncture. Gradually, Shihan’s pained expression eased, her taut body relaxing.
Seeing the improvement in her daughter’s complexion, Lin Yuzhen wept tears of joy.
The other relatives could not help but snort in discontent.
Doctor Xiao sighed again. “Mrs. Lin, I have done all I can. But your daughter’s cold constitution is exceedingly rare—so rare, in fact, that even the ancient medical texts scarcely mention it. If my judgment is correct, I fear your daughter will not live past the age of twenty.”
“What?!” Lin Yuzhen collapsed to the floor. “What shall we do? Shihan’s twentieth birthday is only seven days away. Does that mean—”
“However—”
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Doctor Xiao stroked his beard.
“There may yet be a way. She must marry someone born with a pure yang fate. Coincidentally, my senior once took such a disciple, but they have lived in seclusion in the mountains for years. Whether you can find him depends on your fortune.”
With her husband’s help, Lin Yuzhen stood up. “No matter how difficult, I will save my daughter!”
“Good. Go quickly. There are only seven days left. Whether your daughter survives depends on whether you can find this pure yang man in time.”
Lin Yuzhen nodded solemnly and hurriedly sent people to search for the man with the pure yang birth.
Deep in the mountains, among the woods.
The bright moon shone between the pines; clear springs flowed over the stones.
Ye Fengyun carried a medicinal basket, leaping nimbly along the clear stream—sometimes playing with the fish, sometimes scooping up a handful of spring water to drink.
Everything in the mountains was untouched by the dust of the world, pure and unspoiled, soothing the heart and returning one to simplicity.
Ye Fengyun took out a straight hook, intending to emulate the fishing sage Jiang Taigong, when a wisp of smoke rose from the woods.
“Is Master looking for me?”
He put away his fishing rod and waved at the little fish. “See you next time, my darlings.”
Light as a feather, he tapped the ground with his toes and disappeared swiftly into the forest.
The Shuiyue Sword Hermitage, where Ye Fengyun lived with his master, was a humble dwelling, but surrounded on three sides by mountains and blessed with beautiful scenery.
“Master, what’s the matter?” Ye Fengyun set down his basket and asked.
The gray-robed old man took out a photograph. “Fengyun, come and see your fiancée.”
“My fiancée?” Ye Fengyun was taken aback.
“This is the engagement I arranged for you when you were a child. Now the time is right; you should go down the mountain and marry her.”
“What? Master, this is too irresponsible! You expect me to marry someone I’ve never met, with no feelings between us? What kind of joke is this? And you only have a childhood photo—who knows what she looks like now? What if she’s big and burly, her arms thicker than my thighs? What if she—”
“Enough with the nonsense. Are you going or not?”
“I’m not going!”
“You must go, whether you want to or not! This girl saved your life ten years ago. Now she’s in trouble, and you must go and marry her.”
At these words, Ye Fengyun’s heart trembled, and he suddenly recalled the great fire from a decade ago.
That night, flames lit up the sky, and the entire Ye family was reduced to ashes, the blaze turning night into day.
He had been on fire, on the verge of death, when a girl risked her life to save him, carrying him to a nearby pond. Without her, he would have been burned to a crisp.
Ye Fengyun gently touched his face, scarred by the flames, as waves of emotion surged in his heart.
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His master gave him no chance to argue, waving his hand. “It’s late. Go to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
With that, his master returned to his room, and Ye Fengyun had no choice but to go to sleep as well.
The next morning, Ye Fengyun wanted to ask his master for more details, but upon entering his master’s room, he found it empty—only a letter lay on the table.
“You brat, I know you’ve grown used to a carefree life, but this marriage is not negotiable. Go down the mountain and wed. When you reach the Tang family in Yunchuan, simply provide them with your birth details.
“I’ve taught you all I know—your medical skills are unmatched, your martial arts peerless. But you are too competitive, always gambling with others. Be careful not to let anyone take advantage of this.
“Now that your training is complete, you are free to seek true love. I’m off to find your mistress. When your child is born, I’ll come find you. Don’t worry about me.”
After reading the letter, Ye Fengyun was filled with frustration.
The old man had tricked him.
Ye Fengyun glanced at the address on the letter, put it away, and descended the mountain.
Yunchuan, Tang family.
On the sixth night, Lin Yuzhen was like an ant on a hot pan, pacing anxiously in her room.
“Well? Any luck?” she asked the returning servants.
One shook his head with regret. “Madam, we’ve done all we can—”
Lin Yuzhen collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably.
Tang Dahai, Tang Shihan’s father, was frantic with worry. If Shihan died, their family would lose the right of inheritance; the other relatives would take over, and their days would become unbearably dark.
At the height of their anxiety, a servant rushed in, sweating profusely. “Madam, a filthy, ragged beggar is outside. He’s horribly ugly and claims to be the young lady’s husband.”
“Where did this lunatic come from? Chase him off!” Tang Dahai snapped in irritation.
Just as he finished speaking, the main doors were flung open and three or four servants were sent flying inside.
Lin Yuzhen, startled, hurried to hide behind Tang Dahai.
A man in beggar’s rags, his face hideous, strode in and sat himself familiarly on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other.
“I am your son-in-law—or rather, your future son-in-law. Now, bring your daughter out,” Ye Fengyun said with a cheerful grin.