Chapter 4: The Marriage Order

The summons came during tactical simulations.

I had just finished outlining a basic escape route from an ambush scenario when an officer entered the training room and handed a sealed document to our instructor.

“Jiang Lanying,” the instructor said flatly, not even glancing at me. “Report to the main administration building. Formal dress. Immediately.”

I changed in silence—dark skirt, white blouse, tailored coat with gold buttons. Everything fit too well. Like this life had been measured in advance.

By the time I reached the administration building, two black cars were parked out front. One military. One government. Inside, a meeting room waited, filled with people I didn’t know—except two.

My father, General Jiang Shuren. And across from him: a tall man in a dark uniform, jaw sharp, posture straight, eyes unreadable.

Lu Zeyuan.

Captain. Twenty-five. Special Forces.

Also: my new fiancé.

The Announcement

General Jiang didn’t bother with warm-up.

“You will be engaged by the end of the week,” he said.

“To him?” I said before I could stop myself.

Lu Zeyuan’s eyes flicked toward me. Not surprised. Not amused. Just… calm.

The General continued. “The match has been planned since you were fifteen. Postponed until your health stabilized.”

My hands were cold. “You think now is a good time? After a head injury and memory loss?”

He met my gaze with the full weight of command.

“There’s no better time. Stability is essential.”

Translation: this marriage isn’t about me. It’s about alliances. Control. Power consolidation between military families.

I wasn’t a daughter. I was an asset.

I turned to Lu Zeyuan. “And you? You just go along with it?”

He studied me for a long moment. “Duty and agreement are different things,” he said quietly. “But I agreed.”

The First Private Moment

The meeting ended with signatures I didn’t remember giving and a date circled in red ink.

Afterward, I found Lu Zeyuan alone outside the building, standing under the overhang with his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t left yet.

I stepped next to him, leaving a full meter of distance.

“So,” I said. “This is happening.”

He didn’t look at me. Just nodded.

“Why did you agree?” I asked. “Really.”

He glanced at me, then forward again. “Because you’re not the girl from the file.”

That caught me off guard.

“You read my file?”

“Of course. Everyone does.”

“And?”

“You were weak. Quiet. Scared.” He paused. “You’re not anymore.”

I wasn’t sure whether it was an insult or a compliment.

“I didn’t choose this,” I said.

He met my eyes then. “Neither did I. But here we are.”

The Memory

That night, the wind slammed against the dorm windows. I lay in bed, eyes wide open, listening to Tan Wei snore on the other bunk.

Another flicker.

A memory.

I’m small—maybe six or seven. Standing at the top of a staircase. Someone’s yelling in the next room. A woman. My mother?

I move toward the noise.

A hand grabs my arm.

“You didn’t see anything,” a voice says.

A man’s voice. Calm. Cold.

The memory ends there. My hands tremble.

I sit up, gasping for breath.

The File

In the morning, before first bell, a file was slipped under my door. No name. Just a note: “You’re not the only one they tried to silence.”

Inside: a copy of Chen Yimei’s death report.

My mother.

Official cause: heart failure.

But the toxicology line was blacked out.

And the doctor’s signature?

Same as the one on my hospital chart.

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