Chapter One: Reborn as a Female General?

What roused Lin Zhaoyan from the depths of chaos was a fierce clash of steel, the heavy beat of war drums reverberating between heaven and earth, and the incessant roars of men that sent chills down the spine of all who heard them.

Her gaze darted about, and as she took in her surroundings, an involuntary shiver ran through her. The thunder of drums, a vast army—thousands upon thousands locked in brutal combat. Blood sprayed and pooled, drowning the earth and forming rivers that stained the grass and trees a dark, ominous red.

Men fought with primitive cold weapons, swords and arrows flashing. Was this… an ancient battlefield?

She had barely a moment to process when an arrow whistled through the air, striking her squarely in the shoulder. Lin Zhaoyan toppled from her horse, tumbling into the nearby thicket.

"An Chu's lady general has been hit!" someone shouted hoarsely, voice trembling with excitement. "Great Qi will win!"

"Charge!"

Powerless, Lin Zhaoyan pressed her hand to the wound, warm blood seeping through her fingers and staining her armor crimson. Her mind was in turmoil. A general? She was a general?

There was no time to think. A burly man, sword raised, lunged toward her. Years of martial training kicked in—she rolled aside just as his blade plunged into the earth. Ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder, she sprang up and drove her foot into his lower back.

The man dropped to his knees with a grunt. Lin Zhaoyan didn’t hesitate; she stepped forward, braced her left foot on his back, and, wild with adrenaline, delivered a flurry of elbow strikes. He slumped to the ground, and in a swift motion, she locked him in place and slit his throat. Hot blood spattered her face.

The biting wind brought her back to her senses, and she could not suppress a shudder. She had killed.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her blade, her body trembling.

"The Qi bandit is dead!" a few An Chu soldiers cheered, rushing over to finish off the fallen man, who soon lay still.

The enemy surged forward like a tide, weapons raised against her.

"General! Retreat this way!"

She drew a deep breath, the act tugging painfully at her wound, a sharp reminder that this was no dream. Lin Zhaoyan’s eyes steeled, a cold gleam flashing within them.

To hell with it! In this place, it was kill or be killed—there was no room for mercy.

Though dizzy and half-delirious, she clenched her teeth and swung her sword with all her might, carving a bloody path through the chaos.

When she finally reached the safety of their lines, Lin Zhaoyan collapsed, vision swimming into darkness. Even as she lost consciousness, she clung to her sword, refusing to let go.

When she awoke again, Lin Zhaoyan lay on a bed, every inch of her body throbbing with pain. She gave up on the idea of sitting up.

"Zhaoyan!" A graceful woman hurried to her side, supporting her and handing her a cup of water. "You’re still weak—rest for now. Deputy Commander Song is wrapping things up outside."

Lin Zhaoyan held her breath, glancing around. She was in a tent, with only a woman in dark clothes beside her.

She looked down at the bandaged wound on her shoulder. "This injury…"

"Luckily, that Qi general, Meng Jiang, was a reckless man and a poor shot. The wound missed anything vital—you’ll recover in a few months." The woman’s voice was gentle and reassuring.

Lin Zhaoyan nodded, falling silent, finally able to gather her thoughts.

She was from the twenty-first century, CEO of a Fortune 500 company—though, truth be told, little more than a high-powered workhorse at the mercy of the chairman. After breaking up with her boyfriend on a stormy night, a lightning bolt had struck her dead-on.

When she next opened her eyes, she’d found herself here, a lady general, and had promptly been shot by an arrow.

Thank goodness she’d dabbled in Muay Thai and sparring since childhood—if she hadn’t, she’d have died the moment she arrived.

The sticky blood still clung to her cheek, and the memory made her heart race.

The tent flap lifted, and two men entered—one old, one young.

"Zhaoyan! You killed Meng Jiang; the Qi army was left leaderless. Then Prince Zhou arrived with reinforcements just in time, and we won a decisive victory, driving the Qi troops into retreat!" The younger man beamed.

So this must be Deputy Commander Song, whom the woman had mentioned earlier.

"Thank you for your efforts," Lin Zhaoyan replied politely, her mind racing as she met the gaze of the older man.

Deputy Commander Song introduced him. "You’ve been away from the capital for a while and may not know Prince Zhou well. His Highness came as our reinforcements, traveling a great distance."

"Prince Zhou, this is General Zhaoran. As you know, General Zhaoran is only twenty-five and has already won several battles—now she’s repelled the Qi invasion, earning great merit."

Prince Zhou regarded her with admiration. "General Zhaoran, you are truly a heroine among women."

"You flatter me, Your Highness." She kept her words brief—she was new here and cautious to the extreme.

Song introduced the woman tending Lin Zhaoyan. "This is Doctor Xia Wan, one of our army’s finest healers."

"Is General Zhaoran’s wound stable?" Prince Zhou asked with concern.

Xia Wan paused, casting a subtle glance at Lin Zhaoyan. "It’s not serious, but she must rest and avoid exhausting herself. Perhaps, Your Highness, you and the Deputy Commander should leave her to recuperate."

With that, Xia Wan saw the two men out, leaving Lin Zhaoyan alone in the tent.

Their shadows flickered on the canvas outside, and Lin Zhaoyan stared at the curtain, overhearing Xia Wan’s words drifting in.

This body’s hearing was sharp—though Xia Wan had lowered her voice, Lin Zhaoyan heard every word.

"…That Qi commander, Meng Jiang, was cunning—he coated his arrows with poison. It’s already seeped deep into the general’s body. If we don’t find an antidote soon, she… she won’t survive."

"Do you have a cure?" Song asked urgently.

"I’m working on one, but progress is slow—I have no leads. I think it best not to tell the general, lest she worry herself sick."

"How long until the poison takes hold?"

"About a month."

…

Lin Zhaoyan’s brow furrowed, her face drained of color. If there was a title for the unluckiest soul to ever travel through time, surely she deserved it.

If only she’d crossed over a few minutes earlier, perhaps she could have dodged it all.

No matter—she should have died in that lightning strike anyway; another form of death was just one more experience, wasn’t it?

She tried to comfort herself, rubbing her increasingly cold hands together.

After several days in this world, Lin Zhaoyan had pieced together the basics. This was a fictional dynasty; she was the only female general of An Chu, respected both in court and among the people.

Her parents had been pillars of the late emperor’s reign, having given their lives for the nation.

With Qi invading, she had led the defense, repelling the enemy again and again—this last battle was meant to drive them out for good.

Deputy Commander Song Zijie was her trusted subordinate; Xia Wan, a skilled military physician. Lin Zhaoyan was solitary by nature and only had close ties with these two.

It was only after several days of recuperation that she was allowed by Xia Wan to get out of bed and walk around. She strolled slowly, watching as soldiers dragged away mangled corpses, the stench making her stomach turn.

She looked away, heart still pounding at the memory of killing Meng Jiang.

"You little rascal! I brought you with the reinforcements so you could learn something—not to run off and make mischief!" Prince Zhou thundered, spittle nearly drenching the youth before him.

The young man, tall and elegant, stood with his head bowed. His hair was tied neatly with a jade crown, though his purple, flamboyant robes clashed oddly with the scene.

Lin Zhaoyan was about to slip away quietly when Prince Zhou, sharp-eyed, spotted her. "General!"

She managed an awkward smile. "Your Highness, what’s…"

"This is my wayward son—unworthy compared to a virtuous hero like you."

"—Zhou Jingxuan! Greet General Zhaoran!"

"Cough—cough, cough!" Lin Zhaoyan choked on her own saliva at the name.

Zhou Jingxuan!?

Wasn’t that the name of her damned ex-boyfriend?