Volume One, Chapter 2: On Our Wedding Night, My Strength Soared!

Crazy! Truly mad!

Zhang Heizi’s coarse voice exploded through the wind and snow, drawing the villagers’ attention all around.

“He won’t last three days alive, and yet he dares to claim a female spy from Northern Yan?”

“That wretched girl once injured a government soldier—does Zhang Muyang not fear waking up with his throat slit?”

“Love is a double-edged sword...”

Zhang Muyang paid no heed to their words, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the young girl.

Her lips were tightly pressed, the scar beneath her right eye flushed unnaturally red in the biting wind. Yet her eyes blazed with a fierce light, like the only flame unfrozen in a snowy night—defiant, sharp, and tinged with a barely perceptible despair.

Zhang Muyang’s voice was hoarse: “From today onward, she is my wife!”

His voice was low but silenced the crowd instantly.

The squad leader shouted impatiently, “Hurry up and choose! I still have to report back to camp!”

“Yes, yes.”

The bachelors surged forward like whipped dogs, crowding around the captured women.

For the men of Zhangjia Village, having a peasant woman who could farm and bear children was a blessing from the heavens. As for those delicate daughters from wealthy families, soft-skinned and useless in the fields, who would want them wasting food and breath?

In the blink of an eye, the female captives were almost all chosen, leaving only two standing alone. One was fair-featured and scholarly, clearly a lady from a respectable family. The other, barely sixteen or seventeen, timid as a flower bud yet to bloom, clinging tightly to the elder’s sleeve.

Both were pale with fear, trembling like withered leaves in the cold wind.

Zhang Muyang looked at them and suddenly asked, “Commander, what do we do with these two?”

The squad leader spat, his tone icy: “What else? Take them back to the camp as camp prostitutes!”

“Then... can I take them too?”

“What?”

Laughter erupted around them.

The squad leader pointed his whip at Zhang Muyang mockingly: “With your weak body, you probably won’t live through tonight, yet you want to swallow three at once?”

“I... I can manage!”

Coughing violently, Zhang Muyang bent double, unable to straighten his back.

“Fine!”

Suddenly, the squad leader stopped laughing and agreed.

He already found the female captives a burden—each mouth to feed consumed precious rations. In the eyes of these soldiers, only those who wielded swords were kin; women were mere liabilities.

“Each woman gets seven days’ rations!”

“After seven days at the hour of the snake, report to the county military camp!”

He tossed small bags of coarse rice onto the snow with dull thuds. Drawing his blade with a flash of cold light, he struck a sapling nearby, snapping it like a twig, white splinters flying.

“Anyone who disobeys will be beheaded!”

The squad leader’s gaze was fierce. The villagers of Zhangjia shrank back silently, not daring to breathe.

The soldiers finally left.

“Muyang, what are you doing to yourself?” The old clan leader stomped anxiously. “Those two delicate girls—how could your broken-down hut support them?”

Zhang Muyang coughed and smiled weakly: “Clan leader, each comes with their own rations... With two extra mouths to feed, maybe I can survive a few more days.”

“You...” The old leader choked, then sighed. “Fine. Go back. Keep the Zhang family line alive.”

“Of course!”

Coughing violently again, Zhang Muyang’s vision darkened, and he collapsed face-first into the snow, scattering white flakes.

The old clan leader and villagers were stunned.

In this state, still thinking about three wives? Could he even keep them alive?

The last heir of the Zhang family seemed doomed to perish today!

The girl stared at the barely breathing Zhang Muyang in the snow. The scar beneath her eye twitched slightly. She could escape—these Liang soldiers would never catch her.

But where could she go?

The Northern Yan military camp hunted her relentlessly. Within the territory of Daliang, enemies were everywhere. Her only hope was to hide behind Zhang Muyang’s identity.

“Lead the way.” Kneeling on one knee, she hoisted Zhang Muyang onto her back like a sack.

“Alright.”

The old clan leader led the way. The girl stumbled along with Zhang Muyang on her back, while the two women carried the bags of coarse rice, following step by step.

Zhang Heizi’s hawk-like eyes glared at their backs, a sinister smile twisting his mouth—just a dying consumptive, not worthy at all!

They arrived at a thatched hut, all sides leaking wind. The mud walls had collapsed at one corner; the roof’s straw was rotten enough to see the sky. The wind howled through, and the three women froze, surprised at the state of the Zhang family home.

The younger girl’s eyes were timid as she asked, trembling, “Is this... where we’re going to live?”

Before leaving, the old clan leader snorted, “Don’t even think about running. If the soldiers catch you, it’ll be your heads.”

“We wouldn’t dare.” The three women paled and lowered their heads.

“Cough, cough...” Zhang Muyang lay on the bed, gasping for breath before asking, “What are your names?”

The girl replied coldly, “Su Ying.”

The scholarly woman bowed slightly, speaking softly, “I am Yang Wenxiu.”

The younger girl beside her whispered, “I... I’m Yang Wenjuan, Wenxiu’s younger sister.”

They were sisters!

Zhang Muyang raised an eyebrow.

Yang Wenxiu glanced around, her eyes resting on a half-bundle of firewood and a chipped clay pot in the corner. Softly, she said, “Husband, perhaps we should tidy up the house first?”

Su Ying sneered coldly, “Tidy up? This rotten hut will collapse at the slightest wind. Better to just build a lean-to.”

Yang Wenxiu’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Miss Su, we should at least have shelter from the wind.”

“Shelter? This place?”

“Enough!”

Zhang Muyang coughed, “Wenxiu, cook some porridge. Su Ying, fix the roof... If you keep arguing, no one gets to eat tonight!”

Yang Wenjuan hurried off to start a fire.

Su Ying was nimble and quickly climbed onto the roof, but the straw was already rotten to mud. The moment she stepped, it collapsed with a crash. Fortunately, she caught a beam and hung there, swaying midair, her face splattered with mud.

Zhang Muyang saw Yang Wenxiu carefully pouring rice into the pot and immediately urged, “Cook one bag of that coarse rice!”

“What? All one bag?” Yang Wenxiu exclaimed. In these hard times, coarse rice was more precious than life.

“All of it.” Zhang Muyang’s tone was firm. “We need to eat well to survive.”

After a while, Su Ying used dry straw to plug the hole in the roof. Yang Wenxiu finished cooking the porridge, the thick, hot rice soup filling the room with its hearty aroma.

“Gurgle...”

All three bellies growled in unison, their eyes fixed on the pot, throats moving restlessly.

Yang Wenxiu ladled a bowl and handed it to Zhang Muyang with flushed cheeks. “Husband, you eat first.”

“Alright.” Zhang Muyang took the bowl but didn’t start eating, smiling, “Aren’t you hungry? Come eat with me.”

“Ah? Husband eats first...”

“There are no such rules in our family.” Zhang Muyang put the bowl on the table, his face stern. “If anyone doesn’t eat, I’ll divorce her now.”

“We’ll eat!”

The three women quickly agreed, but the porridge was too hot, and there were no proper spoons.

Su Ying grabbed a rusty kitchen knife from the corner and skillfully carved several wooden spoons, shaving off splinters neatly.

Zhang Muyang had already finished eating quickly, gulping down a bowl with a loud slurp, then called out, “Another bowl!”

After three bowls of hot porridge, warmth seeped into his frozen bones, his mind clearing. The room didn’t feel so cold anymore.

But a new problem arose—there was only a broken wooden bed in the hut, no proper quilt.

They could only gather dry grass and spread it on the floor.

By the time all was done, the sky outside had grown dark.

Yang Wenxiu cooked more porridge and boiled a basin of hot water, filling the cold hut with steam and a faint sense of life. She brought the basin over, her cheeks as red as ripe apples, her voice soft as a mosquito’s whisper, “Husband, here’s some hot water for you to wash.”

Zhang Muyang soaked his stiff, frozen body in the warm water, feeling immense comfort.

When he finished and returned to the room, Su Ying and Yang Wenjuan were already nestled together, asleep on the straw bed.

Yang Wenxiu clenched the quilt with trembling hands. She had once been the legitimate daughter of the prestigious Yang family in Youzhou, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Now, she was forced to lie in this drafty hut, bound to a dying man she had never met.

But...

At least he had saved her and her sister’s lives!

Curled under the quilt, Yang Wenxiu shyly said, “Husband, let’s rest early tonight?”

“Good.”

Zhang Muyang eagerly slipped under the covers.

(Three seconds later)

[Alert! Host has completed the wedding night for the first time. The “Marry to Grow Strong” system is officially activated!]

[Reward granted: Elite Soldier Physique 【Expression】1]

[Current wife count: 1 (Name: Yang Wenxiu)]

[Current status: Stamina 0.01 【Expression】1.0 (returning to normal)]

[Strategy +1 (from Yang Wenxiu): Political affairs efficiency increased by 10%]

Zhang Muyang covered his face. “Is that it?!”

Yang Wenxiu curled up nearby, ears flushed red. “It’s... it’s alright, Husband. You’re weak...”

Is this system run by bandits?

Not even counting the wedding ceremony, you have to actually consummate the marriage?!

But then—

Suddenly, a fiery heat exploded from his dantian, like burning liquor coursing down his throat, spreading throughout his body!

His once emaciated arms began to swell visibly with muscle, veins twisting like dragons, knuckles cracking as if every inch of flesh was being reborn.

Breath—

What was once shallow and weak became deep and strong. With each inhale and exhale, his chest rose and fell like a bellows, even the cold air inside the room felt scorching as it filled his lungs.

He clenched his fists instinctively, the joints popping sharply. Hands that had barely been able to hold a wooden spoon now felt capable of crushing stone!

This... was the physique of an elite soldier?

Zhang Muyang tightened his embrace around Yang Wenxiu; his arms felt like iron bands, his palm’s warmth burning to make her heart flutter.

“H-Husband?”

Her face burned red with fever, both shy and embarrassed.

Su Ying lay sideways on the straw bed, her back to the main bed, a slight sneer curling her lips, eyes flashing disdain. Yet she bit her lip tightly, her fingers unconsciously clutching a handful of dry straw—she should have slit this sickly man’s throat and fled under cover of night, but she had nowhere to run.

She couldn’t return to Northern Yan, and Daliang would not accept her.

She could only curl up in this leaky hut and listen to the sounds of the couple behind her—a ludicrous situation.

Suddenly, Yang Wenjuan trembled all over, clutching Su Ying’s sleeve tightly in panic.

“Sister Su... someone’s coming!”

Su Ying sprang up, gripping half an arrowhead between her fingers, her gaze fixed on the door crack.

Outside in the snow—

Zhang Heizi’s towering figure approached, stepping through the snow, his cleaver reflecting the pale moonlight as he bellowed, “The coarse rice and the women, I want them all tonight!”