Chapter 92 Infatuated with Her

Chapter 92: Captivated by Her

His rough palm carried a bone-chilling cold that made Jiang Wanrou shiver involuntarily. Though her heart was still unsettled, her body seemed to remember his warmth. Unconsciously, she pressed her cheek into his palm.

Lu Feng’s dark eyes gleamed with reflected firelight. Suddenly, he swept her up by the waist, and Jiang Wanrou instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fox-fur cloak, dusted with dirt, flapped against his icy black armor.

Without a word, Lu Feng carried her back, his slightly heaving chest belying his calm exterior. It took Jiang Wanrou a long moment to regain her senses. Just as she was about to speak, a young officer’s voice reached her ears.

"Your Highness, the enemy forces have been wiped out. The remaining stragglers—what should we do with them?"

"Standard procedure."

Lu Feng’s voice was rasping and cold. Jiang Wanrou was pressed tightly against his chest, her face hidden from view, and she couldn’t see the scene outside. All she heard was the howling wind and the crackling of flames.

"...No."

Her arms tightened around him instinctively. Though she didn’t know what "standard procedure" entailed, dread coiled in her chest.

She whispered, "Many people here... helped me. And General Liu... Without them, I wouldn’t have survived to see you again."

"Lu Feng, please don’t hurt them... okay?"

The young officer kept his head lowered, not daring to speak. Since Lu Feng had taken command of the three armies, his orders had been ironclad, unbreakable. Even General Lingxiao dared not defy him. He had repeatedly reprimanded General Lingxiao for being "weak-willed." Now, with a real lady in his arms, no one knew how the prince would react.

It was widely believed that a man like Lu Feng would never be swayed by feminine charms. Yet, after relentless battles—not only routing the Turkic armies but also suffering heavy losses on their own side—supply lines were stretched thin. How much of this was due to the emperor’s decree, and how much was because of the Princess Consort?

With Lu Feng’s gag order in place, no one dared mention it. The young officer could only speculate in his heart, sneaking looks at Lu Feng’s face.

Lu Feng’s brows furrowed in tension, unsettling not only the young officer but also Jiang Wanrou in his arms. After a long pause, Lu Feng finally spoke. "Take them prisoner."

The cold wind whipped at their clothes as Lu Feng strode toward a nearby tent after only a brief pause.

The tent was clearly newly erected, its interior sparsely furnished—just a desk, a lamp, a small couch, and tiger-skin rugs covering the floor and chair backs. Lu Feng dropped into the armchair, still holding Jiang Wanrou, who lifted her head from his chest.

It had been over two months since they last saw each other, and both had lived through too much to tell in three days. Under the flickering candlelight, they gazed at each other for a long time. Jiang Wanrou’s lashes trembled as she whispered, "It’s hard."

His armor was cold and unyielding, digging into her cheek.

Lu Feng’s lips thinned. The position made it difficult to remove his armor, yet he didn’t let her go, instead holding her tighter. His chin rested on her forehead as his calloused fingers tugged at the shoulder clasps of his black armor. With a slight tug, a metallic click sounded, and the bloodied armor clattered down onto the tiger-skin rug.

He hadn’t held back, wrenching open the thin undershirt beneath the armor, revealing his firm, muscular chest. Jiang Wanrou’s eyes widened—not out of shyness, for they were long-married—but because, under the mottled candlelight, she saw the jagged scars covering his body. Several wounds were still unhealed, scabbed over in dark red.

The edges of these dense wounds were inflamed—fresh cuts and arrow wounds.

Her heart ached. She reached out, her trembling fingers brushing his chest.

"Does... does it hurt?"

Her voice cracked. Though she was now amidst the smoke of war, she had previously lived peacefully in Weicheng, shielded from its horrors. Even after being captured, under the deliberate protection of Pei Zhang and Liu Yuenu, she had suffered little.

The sight of corpses and flames earlier had shaken her deeply. Now, seeing Lu Feng’s scarred body, her eyes filled with fear, tears nearly falling.

"Just minor wounds. Don’t be afraid, Rou'er."

Her soft, fragrant body in his arms finally convinced Lu Feng this wasn’t a dream or an illusion. He had traversed half the grasslands—and at last, his wife had returned to his embrace.

Lu Feng buried his face in the crook of her snow-white neck. He was not a man of many words. He wouldn’t tell Jiang Wanrou how much he had missed her, how worried he had been for her safety. Nor would he speak of his fear, his rage, or his torment.

He simply held her, his arms tightly encircling her waist with such force, as if trying to press her into his very being.

Jiang Wanrou’s heart clenched as well. After so much wandering and turmoil, she had missed him too. She used to complain about his roughness, his strength that often hurt her, but now, being held so tightly by him, she felt a security she’d never known before.

Their bodies pressed close, neither speaking as they embraced tightly, calming the joy of their reunion. After a long while, Jiang Wanrou leaned against his chest and reached up to touch his chiseled jawline.

Stubble scraped her palm. She whispered softly, “You’ve lost weight.”

The battles had been relentless in recent months—meals interrupted by war drums booming, nighttime assaults disrupting sleep. Lu Feng was a formidable commander, whether facing the Turkic forces or the Qi army, his near-legendary reputation only grew. But he was still flesh and blood. He had been wounded, and he had grown gaunt.

His features had always been sharp, but now, with his weight loss, his brow appeared more pronounced, his eye sockets deeper. His heavy brow and piercing gaze made him look even more severe and ruthless—enough to frighten Jiang Wanrou earlier.

Having reclaimed his lost treasure, the frost in his gaze thawed a fraction. He lowered his head and replied, “You too…”

Meeting her eyes like polished obsidian, Jiang Wanrou’s cheeks were full, her complexion fair with a rosy glow. Lu Feng was no fool—he couldn’t bring himself to lie and say, *You’ve lost weight too.*

He paused, then said, “You’ve been through hell.”

Jiang Wanrou shook her head. “Thanks to Pei—no, thanks to General Liu. She protected me the whole way. I wasn’t harmed.”

After the initial joy of their reunion, Jiang Wanrou regained her composure and carefully sidestepped her encounter with Pei Zhang. She had been abducted for over a month—enough to ruin her. No matter how tarnished Liu Yuenu’s reputation was, she was still just a woman. What could two women possibly do together?

But during her time in Chen Fu’s hands, she had shared a room with Pei Zhang every day. Though they had remained chaste—Pei Zhang hadn’t laid a finger on her—who would believe it if word got out?

She didn’t want to deceive Lu Feng, but she had no way to explain it now. She left out the chapter about Pei Zhang, only mentioning that Chen Fu had abducted her and Liu Yuenu had rescued her.

Jiang Wanrou clutched his arm, desperate. “Husband, though I was in enemy territory, I never—”

“Enough. No need to say more.”

Lu Feng’s face gave nothing away. He lowered his gaze and said, “It’s all in the past. What matters is that you’re back.”

Jiang Wanrou studied his face, but Lu Feng was inscrutable. When he chose to conceal his thoughts, even she, his closest companion, couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

She bit her lip. If Lu Feng had doubted or questioned her, she could have defended herself. But now, it was like hitting a wall of fog—she had no idea what he was thinking. Yet…

“Don’t bite.”

Lu Feng’s thumb brushed over her lips, freeing her abused lip from her teeth. The Beauty in his arms had disheveled hair, her glossy and swollen lips gazing up at him with dark, shining eyes, her posture soft and clinging.

With a slight pressure, Lu Feng tilted her chin up and lowered his head, capturing her lips.

The kiss was all hunger and claiming. Jiang Wanrou whimpered—it had been too long, and she wasn’t used to this intensity. But his large hand cradled the back of her head, leaving her no room to retreat.

Breathless, tears welled in the corners of her eyes. When she tried to push back slightly, he only deepened the kiss. Helpless, she parted her lips, yielding to him, soothing him.

A long while later, a shining thread trailed from their lips as they parted. Jiang Wanrou pressed a hand to her racing heart, dazed and breathless. In that moment, she understood—he was still utterly infatuated with her.

Her lashes fluttered as she let go of her worries. Closing her eyes briefly to steady her breathing, she murmured, “Not here.”

Lu Feng rumbled in agreement. “It’s too late today. Rest for the night. I’ll take you back tomorrow.”

After their long separation, he wanted her—but more than that, he wanted to hold her, to feel her softness in his arms. Jiang Wanrou, however, was haunted. So many innocent lives had been lost on this land today, and the one responsible was her husband.

But she was from Qi. Lu Feng had acted on the emperor’s command, his body ridged with fresh wounds. She couldn’t bring herself to blame him.

Jiang Wanrou said quietly, “I… know nothing of war, nor the politics between our nations.”

“But husband, the old and the young—they were blameless. They knew nothing, just ordinary villagers. Must they… die?”

Lu Feng did not respond. He reached out his hand to cover her eyes. Her thick lashes fluttered against his palm, tickling him.

He said, "You’ve had a rough day. Get some rest."

Jiang Wanrou hooked her fingers around his, about to plead further, but Lu Feng interjected, "Listen to me."

His tone was calm, without any sharp reprimand, yet Jiang Wanrou sensed an unyielding finality in his words. She closed her eyes obediently, dragging out her words like a pout.

"I can’t sleep without you here."

Lu Feng's expression softened. He untied her soiled cloak, lifted Jiang Wanrou onto a small couch nearby, and wrapped her tightly in the woolen blanket draped over it.

He said, "I’ll stay with you."

Jiang Wanrou, as if afraid he might slip away, clutched the hem of his robe. "Promise me you won’t leave while I’m asleep."

She truly missed him—and dreaded that if she slept, he’d give some brutal command. Jiang Wanrou knew little of books and even less of the intricacies of war between nations, but she understood the simplest truth: the flames of war were kindled by the whims of kings seated high in their golden halls. What did it have to do with the common folk who rose at dawn to till the land and returned at dusk to cook their meals?

Let alone these innocent women, children, and elderly. Liu Yuenu had torn apart the tent she’d carefully set up. The flatbread and goat milk her neighbors had given her, the colorful pebbles gifted to her by the little girl—perhaps all were gone now. Remembering the terrified gaze of that child earlier, Jiang Wanrou felt a suffocating tightness in her chest. Was she still alive? She was about the same age as Xiao Yuner. Had her presence here brought disaster upon them?

Why must there be war? The people of Great Qi lived on the lands of the Qi Dynasty, the Turkic people roamed their own grasslands. If neither side trespassed upon the other, wouldn’t it be better for everyone to live in peace? Couldn’t they just stop fighting?

Jiang Wanrou didn’t voice these questions aloud—Lu Feng couldn’t answer them. He smoothed the furrow between her brows with his palm, his voice steady. "I'm here."

This small village, pitted against the elite iron cavalry of Great Qi—led by Lu Feng himself, no less, with the Youzhou Army—stood no chance. Like a lamb to the slaughter, it had fallen within two hours. Outside, all the commanders waited in the bitter wind for Lu Feng’s orders. He couldn’t spend the whole night wrapped in tenderness.

Yet his words were so firm and reassuring, carrying an undeniable certainty, that Jiang Wanrou felt a weight lift from her heart. Outside, the wind screamed, but inside, the woolen blanket kept her warm, with Lu Feng by her side... Perhaps freed from worry, or perhaps exhausted from the day’s frights and fatigue, she fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Lu Feng sat still as stone beside her, his gaze fixed on her sleeping face. After a long while, hurried footsteps approached outside, yet no one dared to disturb them. Only when her breathing steadied did Lu Feng rise, gently prying her fingers from his robe.

The next day, Jiang Wanrou awoke to the jostling of a carriage, her gaze meeting Lu Feng’s coldly handsome face.

***

She blinked, disoriented for a second. Sensing her stirring, Lu Feng set aside the military report in his hands.

"Awake? Eat something first. We’ll be there soon."

Memories of the previous day flooded back. Jiang Wanrou studied Lu Feng, now clad in dark robes—clearly changed from yesterday.

She asked, "Did you leave while I was asleep?"

Lu Feng didn’t flinch. "You were half-asleep when you let go."

Jiang Wanrou eyed him skeptically, but his expression betrayed nothing. She lifted the carriage curtain to peek outside. Soldiers in armor surrounded them like a fortress, the dense tips of red-tasseled spears jutting out, reminding her of the bloodshed from the night before.

She went pale and dropped the curtain. "Are we still in Turkic territory?"

Through the narrow gap, she glimpsed vast mountains and scattered tents—clearly not the lands of the Qi Dynasty.

Lu Feng only grunted in response. In truth, they weren’t heading toward Great Qi either. Jiang Wanrou didn’t know the way. She was unaware that Liu Yuenu had taken her deep into Turkic lands, nor that Lu Feng, in recent months, had stormed through several key Turkic cities, establishing garrisons there.

Returning to Weicheng now would take three days and nights of nonstop travel—a detour from Lu Feng’s original route. And after what had happened, he would never again leave Jiang Wanrou in Weicheng.

His woman—he’d only relax with her where he could see her.

Lu Feng wasn’t one for talking. Despite their long separation, aside from yesterday’s fierce kiss, little showed on the surface. Yet Jiang Wanrou knew he cared deeply. For instance, right now—Lu Feng would rather be on horseback. If not for her, he’d never have squeezed into this tiny carriage.

She had so much to say—about her travels, his injuries, his bad leg... But after a long pause, Jiang Wanrou looked up. "Husband, you promised... About those people last night—could you spare them...?"

Her heart pounded with unease. With the two nations at war and the situation hopelessly tangled, Lu Feng might indulge her in trivial matters, but when it came to matters of principle, she didn’t believe she could sway him.

Fortunately, Lu Feng was a man of his word. He said, "They're not dead."

It wasn’t a crucial stronghold to begin with. He had led his troops here personally only after receiving news of Jiang Wanrou’s traces in the area. Now that he had found her, the fury in his heart had settled. Since these people posed no threat, leaving them be wouldn’t hurt.

Jiang Wanrou felt slightly relieved but hastened to ask, "What about General Liu? It’s all thanks to her protection along the way that I could reach you safely."

At the mention of Liu Yuenu, Lu Feng’s gaze turned icy. He said, "Yes, all thanks to her indeed."