Replaced Bride, Ruthless Wife: The Cold Captain Is

Chapter 1: The Bride in the Storeroom

"Come out, Wanqing! The groom's people are waiting!"The pounding on the storeroom door shook the dried gourds hanging from the roof.Wen Yi opened her eyes.For a few seconds, she had no idea where she was. The ceiling above her was black with old smoke. A fat spider hung in the corner, perfectly calm, like it had paid rent. The air smelled of camphor and wet straw.This is not the lab.Her heart began to pound.Her last memory was clear. Three o'clock in the morning. The museum workroom, silent except for the hum of the lamp. A Qing dynasty embroidery screen lay under the light, and she was halfway through repairing one torn silk thread when something cold and heavy squeezed her chest. The lamp tipped sideways. The floor rushed up to meet her.Then nothing.I fainted. Someone will find me. The night guard will...But she remembered the pain, and it had been too big, and too final, to be a faint.Wen Yi sat very still on a pile of rice sacks. Her hands began to shake.I died.The thought did not come with a scream. It came quietly, and that was worse. She thought of Professor Gao, who had trusted her with that screen. Of her tiny apartment, and the cactus she always forgot to water. Of the call she had meant to make to her mother on Sunday. She had been so busy. She had always been so busy.Her throat closed. Her eyes burned. She pressed the back of her wrist against them, hard.Ten seconds, she told herself. You get ten seconds. Then you figure out where you are.She counted slowly. At ten, she wiped her face on her sleeve, took a deep breath, and looked down.A red cotton-padded jacket hung from her shoulders, and the sleeves were so long they covered her hands. The pants were tied at the waist with a piece of string. Her hair felt stiff and sticky with some kind of cheap oil."Wanqing! Do you hear me? Stop pretending to be dead!"The voice outside was sharp as a sewing needle.And then her head split open.It felt as if someone had cracked her skull and poured a whole life inside. She pressed both hands to her temples and held still while it rushed through her.A woman with warm hands, humming while she embroidered by the window. A small girl hiding under a table at her mother's funeral. A man who coughed every winter, until one winter he stopped. A new woman in the house, with a hard voice and a stronger fist. Years of getting up before the sun, of washing everyone's clothes in cold water, of eating whatever was left in the pot.The pain faded, and Wen Yi found she was crying again. This time it was not for herself.Lin Wanqing, she thought. Nineteen years old. And you never once said no to anyone, did you?She knew everything now. The body she was sitting in belonged to a girl from Qingshui Village, a day's walk from Suzhou. Her mother had been the best embroiderer in three villages. Her mother had died when she was seven. Her father had died two winters ago. Since then she had lived under the roof of her stepmother, Zhao Guifen, who treated her like a farm animal that could also do arithmetic.Today was October 8th, 1978.Today was supposed to be the wedding of her stepsister, Lin Meiyu.The groom was Captain Shen Yuchen of the army. Long ago, his grandfather had saved Wanqing's grandfather's life during the war, and the two families had made a promise: a daughter of the Lin house would marry into the Shen house.There was only one problem.Lin Meiyu had run away last night with a truck driver from the county town. She had left a note on her pillow.Well, Wen Yi thought. That's inconvenient.She looked around the storeroom for any sign of help. No glowing panel floated in front of her. No voice announced a mission. No magic jade pendant warmed against her skin.Just a thin body, a sore head, and the worst wedding day in history.She crawled over to a shelf where a small square mirror leaned between two jars of pickles. One corner was cracked. She picked it up and looked.A stranger looked back.The girl in the mirror was thin, far too thin. Her skin was pale and dry. Her lips were chapped, and there were dark circles under her eyes like two thumbprints.But Wen Yi had spent twelve years looking at damaged silk. She knew the difference between something worn out and something ruined.She tilted her head. The girl in the mirror tilted hers.The eyes were large and dark, shaped like almonds, with long lashes that curled at the ends. The nose was small and straight. The cheekbones, sharp from hunger, were high and well-shaped. Even cracked, the lips had a soft, natural curve.Good bones, she thought. This face is worn. It's not ruined. Not even close.Give this girl three months of real food and a good night's sleep, and people will walk into walls.She lifted her left hand out of the long sleeve. There was a hard, shiny callus on her index finger and another on her thumb. These were not a farm girl's calluses. They belonged to someone who had pushed a needle through cloth for years.Her lips curved, just slightly.At least the hands are good.The door banged open.A broad, pale-faced woman in a brand new blue jacket stormed in and slammed it behind her. Her eyes were red, and her voice came out in a furious whisper."Do you want to die in here? Get up! The Shen family has been waiting half an hour!""Aunt Zhao," Wen Yi said slowly, trying the name on her tongue. "Where is Meiyu?"Zhao Guifen's face twitched."Meiyu is ill. Very ill. She cannot come.""Ill with a truck driver?"The woman's mouth fell open.In Lin Wanqing's memory, this stepdaughter had never once answered back. She had lowered her head, swallowed everything, and cried quietly at night. Zhao Guifen was so surprised that she forgot to shout.Then her face twisted."You little wretch, who told you that? Listen to me. The Shen family promised to marry a daughter of the Lin house. You are also a Lin. Today you will go out there, bow three times, and become Mrs. Shen. And if you ruin this, I will throw you out of this house, and your mother's embroidery chest goes into the stove!"There it was.The chest. The only thing Lin Wanqing had left of her mother. Wen Yi felt a hot, ugly anger rise in her chest, and it was not entirely her own.She made herself breathe slowly.Anger is useful. But only if you point it at the right target.She was a practical woman. In twelve years of work, she had learned that nothing could be saved with tears. Things could only be saved with patience, planning, and the right tools.At the moment she had no tools. No money, no papers, no bag, and no place to run. In 1978, a girl with no household registration, no work unit, and no family was not free. She was simply lost.But the wife of an army officer had a household registration. A ration card. A roof.All right, she decided. Marry first. Plan later.She looked up."I'll do it," she said.Zhao Guifen blinked. She had prepared for tears, for begging, perhaps a fight. She had not prepared for a yes."But," Wen Yi went on, calmly, "I have conditions.""Conditions?" The woman's voice rose. "You dare...""Keep your voice down, Aunt Zhao. People are listening outside."Zhao Guifen shut her mouth so fast her teeth clicked.Wen Yi ticked off the points on her fingers. She was not nervous anymore. Strangely, she felt almost calm. It was the same calm she felt in front of a damaged piece of silk: first find the tear, then find the thread."First, my mother's embroidery chest comes with me. All of it, not half. Second, whatever wedding gifts the Shen family sent, the sewing machine, the bicycle, the cloth coupons, you stop spending them. They were given for the bride, and today I am the bride.""You...""Third." She lowered her voice. "If you say one word about Meiyu running away before I leave this village, I'll tell every guest in that courtyard where the bride price went. And who bought that new blue jacket."The color drained from Zhao Guifen's face.The sewing machine had been sold three days ago. Wen Yi remembered the empty square of floor by the front window, where it used to stand.Outside the door, the neighbors buzzed like bees."Is it really the younger one? The quiet one?""Aiya, what a pity. Meiyu was the pretty one.""A pity? She's marrying an officer! If I had a daughter, I'd push her out the window to take that place.""They say the captain is very tall. Very handsome. But his face is cold as ice.""Cold is better than a drunk. Mark my words, that poor child will eat white rice for the rest of her life!"Zhao Guifen heard every word. A vein jumped in her temple.After a long, awkward silence, she hissed through her teeth, "Fine. The chest goes with you. Now hurry!"She grabbed Wen Yi's wrist to drag her up. Wen Yi quietly pulled free, stood by herself, and rolled the long sleeves back until her hands showed. Then she walked to the door and opened it.Sunlight poured in. She squinted.The courtyard was full of people. Red paper decorations hung over the gate. A table with sunflower seeds and hard candy stood next to the well. Every head turned, and the noise died as if someone had cut it with scissors.Wen Yi stood in the doorway and let them look.She was thin. The red jacket was far too big. But her back was straight, her chin was level, and the autumn sun fell on a face that, even pale and hungry, made the old women in the front row stop chewing their sunflower seeds."Is that... Wanqing?" someone whispered. "When did she get so pretty?""She was always pretty. Nobody looked."Then the crowd parted.A man stood at the far end of the courtyard.He was very tall, maybe one meter ninety, in a pressed army-green uniform without a single wrinkle. His shoulders were broad and his waist was narrow. He stood so straight that he looked like he had been measured with a ruler.And his face...Wen Yi's heart did a small, stupid jump. She told it to behave.It was the kind of face that belonged on a recruitment poster. Sharp, clean lines. A high, straight nose. Thin lips pressed together. Dark eyebrows, slightly drawn, as if he was solving a hard problem. A strong jaw. And his eyes were a strange light brown, almost golden, in the sun.They were also very cold.So this is what a hero from a poster looks like in real life, she thought. Pity he looks like he's about to arrest someone.Beside him, a young soldier was whispering urgently in his ear. The captain did not seem to be listening.He was looking at her.Not at the red jacket. Not at her hair or her thin wrists. His eyes moved over her face once, slow and careful, like someone checking a package that was not the one he ordered.Then his gaze slid sideways, to Zhao Guifen's brand new blue jacket. It stayed there for exactly one second.Then it moved to the empty spot near the window where a sewing machine should have been.Then, finally, back to her.Wen Yi felt it all the way down her spine.He counted the jacket. He noticed the machine.He's not angry. He's working something out.She had a feeling she knew exactly what he was thinking: Wrong bride. Wrong sister. Something in this house does not add up.The soldier finished whispering. The captain spoke at last, in a low, even voice that carried across the whole courtyard."Lin Wanqing?"The courtyard held its breath."Yes," she said."You are not the one I was promised."Someone gasped. Zhao Guifen's knees went weak.Wen Yi did not look away. She walked three steps forward, stopped at a polite distance, and answered clearly."No, Captain Shen. I'm not."A pause."But I am the one who is here."Something flickered in his eyes, so quick she might have imagined it.The captain looked at her for one more long second. Then he asked a question that nobody expected."Do you want this marriage?"The courtyard went completely silent.Wen Yi's throat tightened.In nineteen years, in this body's whole short life, not one person had ever asked Lin Wanqing what she wanted. Not her father. Not her stepmother. Not the neighbors, who were all watching now.And this stranger, this cold, sharp-eyed stranger in an army uniform, had just asked.She felt her eyes sting. She blinked once, hard."Yes," she said, and her voice came out steadier than she expected. "I do.""You understand it will not be an easy life.""I understand it will be a life."His eyebrows moved, barely. It might have been surprise."My grandfather made a promise to yours," the captain said, to the courtyard at large. "I keep promises. The ceremony will be at noon." He turned to the old man who was running the wedding. "That gives the bride one hour."The crowd erupted into whispers.Wen Yi let out a very slow breath, her fingers still hidden in the long red sleeves.She had just agreed to marry a stranger, in a decade she did not know, with nothing but a pair of calloused hands.One year, she told herself. I only need one year.As the captain turned away, she heard him mutter something to the young soldier. It was too quiet for anyone else.But Wen Yi had very good ears."Find out," Shen Yuchen said, "where the real bride went. And who helped her."Then, without looking back, he added:"Quietly."A chill crept up her neck.So the cold captain isn't just cold.He's already investigating.