Marrying a Disabled General and be His Wife

The night was thick, and the moonlight resembled water.

The two people in the room-maintained silence, their eyes never parting.

Feng Chilie didn’t know when Tan Chuyan started occupying his heart, but by the time he realized it, dealing with his emotions became challenging.

So, when confronted with Tan Chuyan’s request, he agreed without hesitation, risking his own future and reputation.

Tan Chuyan was also stunned by Feng Chilie’s sudden confession, and a secret tingling feeling spread in his heart.

Unable to control his emotions, he grabbed Feng Chilie’s shirt, biting his lip hard, almost drawing blood. “You have to think about it. If you want me, you may have to bear infamy and burden.”

Infamy meant nothing, and burden meant nothing.

He had become a beast, disregarding human ethics.

Feng Chilie commented on himself inwardly, then kissed Tan Chuyan passionately, expressing his answer through actions.

Due to the condition of Tan Chuyan’s body, Feng Chilie tried hard to restrain himself. At the most crucial moment, he stopped.

“Huh?”

Tan Chuyan’s hair sprawled across the bed. He looked at Feng Chilie with misty eyes, dissatisfied with his halted behavior.

Feng Chilie laid on his side beside Tan Chuyan, his back turned, breathing heavily. “Rest.”

“Oh…” Tan Chuyan later realized that Feng Chilie must have considered his well-being. Although stopped, Tan Chuyan knew he felt no discomfort other than a bit of sleepiness.

Tan Chuyan could see that Feng Chilie was uneasy, and he felt the same.

Pressing against Feng Chilie’s back, Tan Chuyan hooked his waistband, bit his earlobe, and asked quietly, “General, are you not comfortable? Shall I take over?”

Where did that come from? This vixen!

Feng Chilie cursed inwardly, turning over to suppress Tan Chuyan. “Don’t blame me if you end up crying.”

“Bring it on,” Tan Chuyan smiled in the moonlight, eyes glazed. “Go make me cry.”

Feng Chilie’s eyes flickered with a strange fire, and in an instant, the two intertwined like snakes in love, inseparable.

Tan Chuyan buried his face in the pillow, his voice whimpering and intermittent. “I… was wrong… please spare me…”

“It’s too late,” Feng Chilie’s palm lifted his chin, his voice gentle but his movements were equally fierce. “You asked for it.”

.

.

.

That night of intense entanglement made Tan Chuyan realize a truth.

——’You have to be honest, don’t play around!’

Otherwise, he would have been tormented for three days, and upon seeing Feng Chilie, he would feel like crying and begging for mercy.

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New Year’s Eve arrived swiftly, and the notice about the palace banquet was sent to all civil and military officials a day in advance, including Tan Chuyan.

Initially reluctant due to the risk of identity exposure and fearing trouble for Feng Chilie, Tan Chuyan found himself unable to resist Feng Chilie’s strong request. Together, they entered the palace of the Jing Kingdom.

Calmly observing the people in the Jing royal family, Tan Chuyan noted Chu Yiling’s obvious exhaustion, likely due to Tuoba Lan’s arrest. Chu Yiheng was teasing a palace maid beside him, avoiding eye contact. As for Chu Yilian, the Seventh prince, he sat neatly, quietly enjoying pastries, unfazed by the surrounding commotion.

As Tan Chuyan’s gaze met his, Chu Yilian offered a friendly smile, raising his glass in a toast before taking a sip.

Responding in kind, Tan Chuyan then stared at the pastries on his table with a pensive expression.

“What’s wrong?” Feng Chilie inquired in a low voice, noticing his unusual demeanor.

“How much do you know about the Seventh prince?” Tan Chuyan leaned in and whispered, “I sense a very familiar aura from him, like a hunter. How should I put it?”

Feng Chilie glanced at Chu Yilian and mused, “In some ways, he’s more similar to you, but not quite.”

Being relatively unfamiliar with the Seventh prince, Tan Chuyan urged, “Tell me more. Enlighten me.”

“Sure,” Feng Chilie nodded, moving closer. “His Seventh Highness’s mother-in-law is Yuan Mei-ren. She gained her position through illicit means and has never been favored. Even the Seventh prince has suffered.”

“However,” Feng Chilie continued, “the king, wiser than Tan Hongyun, upon learning about His Highness’s situation, didn’t let it slide. Instead, he adopted him under the name of Concubine Chun and raised him.”

Feng Chilie asked, “Do you know why it was a pure concubine?”

Tan Chuyan shook his head.

Feng Chilie explained, “Because Concubine Chun is unpredictable! Adopting him to Concubine Chun allows the king to provide support without granting the seventh prince real power. Otherwise, why not adopt him under the name of Baili Ronghua?”

“So…” Tan Chuyan speculated, “The seventh prince isn’t leading a happy life in the palace?”

“Yes,” Feng Chilie nodded, “While he has no worries about basic needs, he can’t afford to be careless anymore. With Chu Yiling constantly plotting against him, he lives cautiously.”

No wonder Chu Yilian felt so familiar; he suppressed genuine emotions and used kindness to conceal murderous intentions.

Tan Chuyan patted Feng Chilie’s strong arm, expressing concern, “Don’t provoke the seventh prince. If I’m not mistaken, he and I might be kindred spirits. One wrong move, and it could be fatal.”

Tan Chuyan cared about their safety, chuckled quietly, and discreetly patted Tan Chuyan on the lower back where officials couldn’t see, “I know, I only provoke you.”

A blush tinted Tan Chuyan’s earlobes, and he pushed Feng Chilie, whispering, “Sit back, there are many people watching!”

“Let them look,” Feng Chilie dismissed their concern, “Am I afraid of them?”

“…”

Tan Chuyan had never witnessed such arrogance from him. He looked up in disbelief, grabbing a pastry from the table and stuffing it into Feng Chilie’s mouth. Things spiraled into madness once again.

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As the time for the palace banquet neared, Chu Minghan and Baili Ronghua were conspicuously late.

While passing by and discussing, both of them diverted their attention to Tan Chuyan.

Chu Minghan’s eyes held inquiry, as if scrutinizing him as if he were someone else, while Baili Ronghua’s gaze brimmed with murderous intent.

Tan Chuyan sat up straight, momentarily feeling embarrassed. Fortunately, the two merely glanced at him before proceeding to the main seat. Otherwise, he would have wished to find a place to hide, feeling like a spectacle for everyone.

This awkward sensation lingered until the palace banquet commenced.

Observing the festivities, Tan Chuyan found the Jing Kingdom’s palace banquet to be mundane, a mere amalgamation of singing and dancing while eating. Halfway through, unable to resist, he dozed off, his head gradually drooping.

Feng Chilie held his chin, “Don’t sleep.”

Unable to resist the drowsiness, Tan Chuyan pleaded, “Just for a while.”

“No,” Feng Chilie’s expression turned stern, issuing a threat, “If you dare to sleep, I will kiss you.”

Tan Chuyan’s eyes widened instantly, sitting up straight with newfound alertness.

As time passed, the palace banquet approached its end. Tan Chuyan grew increasingly sleepy, more so than ever. When he ventured out to watch the fireworks, he wished he could stay awake standing.

Observing his struggle, Feng Chilie sensed the impending Gu attack.

Anxiously, he scanned the palace gate for the rescue party coming for Tuoba Lan. On the day after he brought her back, she was forced into the deep prison, assuring her that someone would rescue her on New Year’s Eve as long as she was calm.

As New Year’s Eve neared its end, and Tan Chuyan drifted into a deep slumber, there was still no sign of Tuoba Lan’s rescue.

Gritting his teeth, Feng Chilie summoned Ji Bei, considering a backup plan – personally rescuing Tuoba Lan.

But as his gaze met Ji Bei’s, explosions and fireworks shattered the night. The Imperial Prison’s guards rushed in, breathless. “Your Majesty!” they exclaimed, kneeling before Feng Chilie, “Your Majesty, something is wrong! Someone is attempting to raid the prison!”