The General Said She Would Not Take a Wife

Chapter 1: Lin Aoxue

Early winter had arrived, and the winds along the border carried a piercing chill. Light snow drifted down from the sky as the soldiers guarding the frontier stood with their backs straight, their expressions solemn. Their frost-reddened eyes gazed steadfastly at the vast expanse of earth and the gray-blue heavens above.

Armed with bloodstained weapons, they upheld the backbone of their nation, defending the ground beneath their feet and the countless citizens within the Beichen Empire.

While the fortress walls above exuded silence and gravity, the training grounds below were filled with a cacophony of battle cries.

New recruits were sparring in pairs, eager to prove themselves. Those who demonstrated exceptional skill had the chance to rise directly to the rank of squad leader. The atmosphere was charged with intensity as each soldier gave their all, hoping to catch the eye of the general.

The northern border had recently weathered an autumn campaign, fending off invasions by barbarian tribes. The battle had left the army with heavy casualties. Now, with the first snowfall marking the start of winter and the impending closure of the passes, the soldiers could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

General Beichen Long, recognizing the need for the army to recover during the harsh winter, had ordered the recruitment of new soldiers. In just ten days, over ten thousand able-bodied men had flocked to the military camp from nearby cities, eager to enlist.

For many, joining the northern army, even as the lowest-ranked soldier, meant enough wages to support their families. If they fell in battle, General Beichen Long would ensure their families were cared for. For those fortunate enough to survive and accumulate merits, a future as a minor official, bringing honor to their descendants, was within reach.

The people of the Beichen Empire knew that while life in the northern army was arduous, it offered hope to those with ambition, physical strength, or little else to their name. Thus, every recruitment drive attracted a flood of hopeful men. To prevent spies from barbarian tribes infiltrating the ranks, the army implemented stringent background checks.

Aspiring recruits first registered their names with the overseers, who verified their backgrounds before granting access to the training grounds.

The grounds were teeming with noise when a new challenger was sent flying off the sparring platform with a single kick. On the platform stood a burly man wearing only a short-sleeved tunic despite the winter cold. His grin was wild and brash, having defeated nine opponents in succession.

"Who's next?"

He wiped the sweat from his face, his eyes sharp and brimming with confidence.

If no one challenged him before sunset, the squad leader position would be his by default.

The recruits below exchanged hesitant glances, none daring to step forward.

Suddenly, a clear voice rang out above the clamor:

"I'll go!"

The crowd turned toward the sound, their gazes drawn to the slender figure stepping onto the platform. The challenger wore a coarse short robe, and their thin frame seemed almost frail compared to the burly man. Even standing straight, they barely reached the man's shoulder.

What caught everyone's attention, however, was not just the challenger's seemingly overmatched stature but also the crude mask that concealed the right half of their face, adding an air of mystery.

The burly man, rather than underestimating his opponent, laughed heartily and clasped his hands in a respectful martial greeting.

"I am Shang Wu. Your move, my friend!"