Despite being the daughter of the Celestial Emperor, Yao Ji was but a naive young girl. She had never experienced mortal life, knew nothing of worldly affairs. Even the vast mountains and rivers, the pristine snow she would journey through, were sights unseen.

The mortal realm was truly a beautiful place.

Three months later, the procession finally reached the Youjin tribe. The accompanying officials and servants complained incessantly, while the princess, accustomed to luxury, remained spirited. Having listened to Aqing's endless tales of the Northern Lands' desolation and the barbarians' crude dwellings, Yao Ji, upon seeing the magnificent and imposing golden tent, thought, this isn't bad at all.

She didn't know that while the Northern Lands were indeed desolate, the Youjin, the largest barbarian tribe, possessed wealth that surpassed the declining Great Yan Dynasty.

After a night's rest, preparations for the wedding began in earnest.

Yao Ji donned a five-colored phoenix robe, her head adorned with a nine-pheasant, four-phoenix crown. Long Yingluo necklaces draped down, obscuring her delicate, jade-like face. As she sat in the tent, attended by maids preparing her, she heard the envoy, Wang Shiwen, who had accompanied her, exclaim angrily outside, “The wedding is tonight, yet the groom is nowhere to be seen! May I ask Your Honor, is this how your tribe treats our Great Yan's sincere offer of alliance?!”

“Calm yourself, Lord Wang, calm yourself,” the right hand man of the Khan placated, his tone dismissive. “The Tijia tribe has rebelled, and the Great Khan is on the front lines battling those traitors. How can he be disturbed lightly? Rest assured, the Great Khan has sent word that he will surely achieve victory tonight.” The implication was clear: between the wedding and quelling the rebellion, the latter took precedence.

Wang Shiwen was furious, but the Great Yan Dynasty was now reliant on the Youjin tribe. Despite this humiliation, he could only swallow his anger. He found an opportunity to meet with Yao Ji, the elderly man lamenting, “Your Highness, you have witnessed the barbarians' attitude. I will endure this temporary humiliation and return to the capital after the wedding. You will be alone in this desolate land. Please take care of yourself.”

Yao Ji's joyful anticipation faded at his words. She had been so focused on her husband being Fei Guang's reincarnation that she had forgotten he wouldn't remember their past.

In the Great Khan's eyes, she was a princess from a foreign land, his wife in name only. They were strangers, with no shared history, let alone love. If he was a kind man, he might treat her with respect. If he was like the right hand man, she feared she would be neglected immediately after the wedding.

Anxiety gnawed at her until the wedding commenced. She was led to the large bed within the golden tent, yet the other half of this union remained absent. Yao Ji's heart sank further, her small hands clenching the fabric of her robe. She suddenly understood her father's words before she insisted on descending to the mortal realm, "Yao Ji, this journey will be far more arduous than you imagine."

Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. The rhythmic beat of war drums. Like a roaring sea, the heavy, synchronized thud of hooves approached like a torrential downpour. Yao Ji lifted her head, feeling the ground tremble beneath her.

Neither she nor the sheltered Princess Xincheng had ever heard such a ferocious sound. It was the sound of war and weaponry, of storms and clashing steel. A short distance from the golden tent, the hooves abruptly halted. The clatter of swords against armor followed as the riders dismounted and knelt. Yao Ji's heart pounded in her chest. Silence descended, even the crackling of the candle flames seemed to vanish.

The tent flap was flung open, a gust of wind swirling snowflakes inside. The sudden chill made Yao Ji shiver involuntarily. He's here, she knew, he's arrived.

Blood-stained footprints marked the pristine white wool carpet as the man strode in, his pace measured and steady. A strange tension filled the air, making it hard for Yao Ji to breathe. He seemed to walk both slowly and quickly at once. As he stopped before the elaborately dressed young woman, Yao Ji could still see the snowflakes clinging to his cloak.

A calloused, slender hand reached out and tilted her chin upwards. The long Yingluo necklaces cascaded down like water, revealing her exquisite face, framed by the intricate headdress.

“Yao Ji,” the man said, a smile playing on his lips.

Thump, thump. Yao Ji's heart skipped a beat. Was this Fei Guang? A strange, dangerous aura emanated from him, an intensity unlike anything she remembered of Feiguang. Yet, there was something undeniably captivating about him.

Before she could process her thoughts, the man leaned down, his thumb tracing her lips before he gently kissed her.