Chapter Two: Marry Me

Qin Yanzhou’s eyes flashed sharply as he reached out to grasp the woman’s chin, forcing her to lift her head.

Though her face was smudged with dirt, it was clear she was a beauty in the making—her face delicately tapered, with two sparkling eyes like dark grapes, bright and full of life.

She hissed softly, trying to break free, but the man’s grip only tightened.

“What’s your name?” Qin Yanzhou asked cautiously, his eyes like ink spreading endlessly deep.

Qiao Luo obediently gave her name, too afraid to move, unable to discern Qin Yanzhou’s true intentions.

He released his hold, then suddenly acted. In a single second, he tore apart the tattered linen garment she wore, revealing her fair shoulder at the neckline.

There, at the base of her collarbone, a small crimson crescent-shaped birthmark lay exposed, no longer hidden.

Qiao Luo’s pupils trembled inwardly—was he really starting off with something so provocative?

Fearfully clutching her chest, she stepped back, ready to scream, but before she could, she heard the man murmuring to himself.

“Luo Luo, I’ve found you.”

She let out a vague sound, meeting his gaze, her heart trembling.

There was intense affection in Qin Yanzhou’s eyes—not the glance of a stranger, but one filled with stirring tenderness in his dark, inscrutable pupils.

Yet just seconds later, the woman before him seemed to return to her original self, as if it had all been a mere illusion.

“Are you already married?” Qin Yanzhou’s voice darkened, nearly dripping with gloom.

Qiao Luo quickly shook her head, answering truthfully, “No, no. I’m here looking for my fiancé, his name is Chen Liao.”

He produced the letter confiscated from her the previous day—a note bearing their names and birth dates, along with a hastily scrawled engagement contract.

Last night, in the darkness, he hadn’t seen clearly; if only he had examined it more carefully, he might have found Luo Luo sooner.

A flicker of frustration crossed Qin Yanzhou’s face at the thought.

But unfortunately, Qiao Luo no longer recognized him.

“Chen Liao is a company commander in the Eighth Battalion, stationed not far from here. This isn’t your place,” Qin Yanzhou said with an unreadable tone.

Seeing that he no longer intended to execute her, Qiao Luo breathed a sigh of relief.

Yet the task was daunting. She mustered a couple of tears to play the victim. “Commander, you know Chen Liao? I’m just a weak woman, and last night the military camp’s aura scared me terribly. I dare not return rashly. Could you please help me find him?”

The woman’s acting was crude, but Qin Yanzhou’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, inexplicably finding her endearing.

Immediately, a shadow fell—she was here for another man.

“Alright,” Qin Yanzhou agreed.

To Qiao Luo, his mood seemed volatile, and she quickly nodded in thanks, pecking out her gratitude like a little bird.

Qin Yanzhou led her to his office, shielding her from the prying, gossiping eyes, then excused himself.

Everyone was curious—Qin Yanzhou was known as the Iron-Faced King in the army, rarely seen interacting with any woman, especially a suspected spy.

“Favorability increased to 50%. Memory fragment +1. Host’s path to wealth through childbirth is imminent!” A buzzing voice echoed in Qiao Luo’s mind.

She nearly dropped her jaw—progress was so fast, yet she had barely done anything!

“Did you secretly recharge my favorability?” she responded mentally.

“This commander would never cheat!” came the reply.

Memory fragments—how was she to use those? Qiao Luo lowered her gaze, touching the birthmark on her collarbone thoughtfully.

Before long, Qin Yanzhou returned.

“Chen Liao and the army reported their marriage, but the bride’s name they submitted isn’t yours,” he said, watching Qiao Luo’s reaction closely.

Her mind was racing. Unlike the original, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe Chen Liao wouldn’t find someone else in the military. This situation was expected.

If so, she had no reason to stay here. Her expression instantly fell, on the verge of tears.

Feigning heartbreak, she sobbed, “Our marriage was arranged by our parents. That faithless man! I’ve traveled three days and nights to get here. When I return, my family will surely kill me.”

Qin Yanzhou’s brows twitched; he wanted to say something but held back.

His gaze fell to his powerless legs and the rusted wheelchair, an overwhelming darkness clouding his eyes.

But unexpectedly, Qiao Luo’s next words—

“Commander, do you have a wife at home?” She wiped away nonexistent tears before revealing her true intention, “If not, why don’t we team up?”

Favorability was already at 50%. Qiao Luo was starting to grasp some of the genuine thoughts beneath this man’s hardened exterior.

Seizing the moment while it was still warm—if not now, then when?

Her birthmark and the nickname she’d slipped out suggested Qin Yanzhou must know her—or rather, know the original owner. She considered this a fortunate advantage.

Qin Yanzhou thought he must have misheard. Nowadays, most kept their feelings reserved; few were as bold and frank as Qiao Luo.

“I don’t have a wife yet,” he said steadily, fixing her with a sharp gaze. His lips pressed into a thin line, fierce in appearance. “Aren’t you afraid of me? I’m disabled, and beyond cure.”

Qiao Luo’s eyes fell on his legs. As a trainee surgeon, though her skills were only rudimentary, her medical knowledge was far more advanced than what this era could offer.

She bent down. “May I take a look?”

Qin Yanzhou’s expression was strange, but he didn’t refuse. He nodded slightly.

She pressed on his lower limbs, applying more force near the knee’s meniscus. “Do you feel anything here?”

He watched her closely, expression unreadable, shaking his head. “No.”

Qiao Luo rolled up his pant leg. His legs, never seeing sunlight, were unnaturally pale.

“Hm, the muscles are atrophied,” she observed seriously, as if completing a homework assignment. This case was insignificant compared to those in her medical textbooks.

“Spinal nerve injury. It’s troublesome, but it’s not as incurable as you said.”

Qin Yanzhou’s brows lifted. Having heard too many sighs from the medical teams, the woman before him was saying it wasn’t as hopeless as he’d been told.

For a moment, he wondered if he was hearing things.

“I can help you with rehabilitation,” Qiao Luo stood, clapping her hands. Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up her eyes with a gleam.

“But I have one condition—we get married,” she said, arms crossed, matter-of-fact.

Qin Yanzhou met her gaze, searching for any hint of deceit on her open, clear face.

“Have you thought this through? Marriage isn’t a game.” He turned his head away, trying to hide the rapid beating of his heart, but in vain.

“I’m asking you now, Commander. Have you thought it through?” Qiao Luo bent down to meet his eyes.

With a hint of teasing, audaciously, she reached out to tap his cheek.