Chapter 2

Ning Zhen’s wedding was scheduled for two weeks later.

She still hadn’t met her fiancé, Sheng Changyu.

Sheng Zhangyu had inherited his father’s position. Two years ago, after his father passed away, he took over the army. To stabilize the situation, the Northern Government appointed him Governor of four provinces in Eastern China.

He was twenty-five years old, four years older than Ning Zhen.

In her childhood, she often heard her brothers talking about Sheng Changyu, calling him the “Young Marshal.”

The Young Marshal, being the eldest son of the great warlord, was quite unruly, frequently angering his father to the point of needing to beat him every few days.

Later, Ning Zhen went abroad to study.

By the time she returned to Suzhou, Sheng Changyu had risen to a high position.

He was busy, and Ning Zhen didn’t like going out, so they had never crossed paths.

She had, however, heard about his passionate relationship with Su Qing’er, and was aware of the two powerful concubines in his household.

Ning Zhen had never imagined she would ever be involved with him.

Fate had other plans.

“…You need to check the two estates and meet the managers,” her mother urged her repeatedly.

Though the wedding was arranged hastily, the Ning family spared no effort in their preparations.

Ning Zhen was the only daughter of the Ning family’s three branches, and she was especially cherished among her many brothers and cousins. Her dowry had been prepared by her grandmother for over a decade.

Her dowry included six estates and six shops, all of which were well-managed.

Before the wedding, she was supposed to inspect these assets, but she was too lazy to bother.

Her grandmother and mother, indulgent of her nature, only insisted she visit two of the more important properties.

“Fine,” Ning Zhen nodded. “I’ll drive myself.”

Her grandmother frowned. “What kind of warlord’s wife drives her own car?”

Ning Zhen had learned to drive while studying in London and would often take her friends out on weekends.

After returning home, the family did have a car, but they wouldn’t let her drive it.

To them, driving was like handling a carriage—improper for a refined young lady.

“Let her have her way this once. Once she’s married, there will be no more opportunities,” her mother said.

With a pang of affection, her grandmother relented.

Granted permission to drive, Ning Zhen wasted no time. She left immediately, taking no one with her, but placing two rifles in the passenger seat and a handgun in her pocket.

The road was smooth, and within half an hour of leaving the city, she saw someone waving to stop her car.

It was a man in military uniform.

Her father was Commander Ning, and the garrison in Suzhou knew her well. Ning Zhen wasn’t afraid.

She pulled the car over.

The man in uniform, an adjutant, jogged over to her window.

Seeing her behind the wheel, he was visibly surprised. “You… you’re driving?”

“Yes. Why are you stopping the car?” Ning Zhen asked.

The adjutant snapped out of his surprise. “My apologies, Miss. Our car has run out of fuel. Do you happen to have any diesel with you?”

Ning Zhen had filled her tank before leaving, so she shook her head. “I didn’t bring extra.”

The adjutant looked troubled. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Are you sure it’s out of fuel, or are you just guessing?” she asked.

The adjutant seemed a bit startled and scratched his head. “It won’t start, so we assumed it’s out of fuel.”

Upon returning to Suzhou, Ning Zhen had noticed that most of the cars ran on diesel, which often clogged the engines.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” she offered.

Having driven herself for so long, she had naturally picked up some basic car repair skills.

“You can fix cars?” the adjutant hesitated for a moment. “Please wait a moment, I’ll ask for permission.”

He hurried back to his car.

After a brief conversation, he returned. “Miss, if you know how to, could you please take a look? And if it really is out of fuel, we’d need to trouble you further.”

Ning Zhen nodded and got out of her car, walking over to theirs.

Through the windshield, she could see a man sitting in the back seat, his eyes closed, seemingly resting.

The cabin was dim, the curtains drawn, so she could only make out his faint outline.

Ning Zhen, speaking with the adjutant, opened the hood.

She wrapped a handkerchief around her hand and tinkered a bit.

“There’s fuel. It’s likely a blockage,” Ning Zhen concluded.

The adjutant was pleasantly surprised. “You know how to fix cars?” 

“I’ll give it a try,” Ning Zhen replied. “Do you have gloves?” 

The adjutant quickly fetched a pair of white gloves for her. 

It was a simple fuel blockage. Ning Zhen was accustomed to fixing such problems and soon had it sorted out. 

“Try starting it now. It should work,” she said as she straightened up. 

At some point, a man had appeared beside the car. 

The late March sunlight was bright, casting shimmering beams through the swaying willow branches along the road. The man was in a military uniform, a German-style one, exuding strength and elegance. The braid on his chest swayed lightly, and his medals were polished and gleaming. 

He stood tall, legs slightly apart, sharp as a blade. 

Ning Zhen looked up and met his eyes. 

He had a dark complexion, a broad forehead, a high nose, and thin lips. His pupils were deep and dark, impossible to read. 

Despite his intense gaze, his expression wasn’t too stern. 

He looked at Ning Zhen, and she looked back at him. 

Their eyes met, and seeing that Ning Zhen showed no signs of retreating, the man spoke first. 

“Do you know how to fix cars?” 

“I can handle small issues, but not major ones,” Ning Zhen replied. 

“Impressive,” he said in a calm, deep voice. 

Meanwhile, the adjutant tried starting the car and managed to ignite the engine, overjoyed. 

He came back and said, “Thank you, Miss. May I ask your name?” 

Ning Zhen smiled slightly. “No need for thanks. I have other matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave now.” 

She nodded to the man. 

The man also nodded in acknowledgment. 

Ning Zhen returned to her car, her fingertips stained with diesel. She found a cloth and wiped them clean. 

As she was wiping her hands, she briefly drifted into thought, sitting alone for a while before finally starting the engine. 

Because of the delay, she arrived at the estate an hour late. The manager had been anxiously waiting, worried something might have happened to her on the road. 

“…Governor, are young ladies these days really this capable? Not only can she drive, but she can also fix cars,” the adjutant, Cheng Yang, couldn’t help but chatter on the way back. 

Sheng Changyu leaned back in the rear seat, his legs crossed. His muscular legs stretched tightly against his uniform pants, the lines sharp and taut. 

“She studied abroad,” Sheng Changyu replied. 

Cheng Yang was surprised. “You know her?” 

“Judging by her outfit,” Sheng Changyu scolded him for his ignorance. 

The young woman wore tan trousers, a white shirt, and a dark brown vest, all Western-style clothing, similar to an equestrian outfit. 

The fitted attire accentuated her slim waist, a style old-fashioned women wouldn’t dare to wear. The pants were tucked at the ankles, perfect for either driving or horseback riding. 

“She’s also quite pretty, and her voice is pleasant,” Cheng Yang added. 

Her figure was graceful, and her voice was soft and sweet, like a springtime oriole singing from a cherry blossom branch. 

Sheng Changyu shot him a sharp look. “Stop ogling and focus on driving.” 

The adjutant immediately shut his mouth. 

Their commander, Sheng Changyu, had always disliked women who had studied abroad. He believed they had absorbed foreign ideas and abandoned traditional values, dismissing the heritage of their ancestors. 

What he hated most was that his mother had chosen a bride for him, and she, too, was a foreign-educated woman. 

As they neared the city, the adjutant asked, “Governor, shall we head to the old residence or return to the Governor’s Mansion?” 

Sheng Changyu’s Governor’s Mansion was his official residence, with no family living there. 

His beloved concubine, FanFan, resided in a separate estate. 

Since taking over his father’s position, his mother had moved back to the old family home. 

The old residence had been renovated, a vast Su-style garden with numerous small courtyards, each either exquisitely traditional or stylishly modern. 

His mother had even invited his three uncles and their families to live there, with over three to four hundred people, including servants. 

It was lively but not crowded, complex yet organized. 

“Head to the Governor’s Mansion,” he ordered. 

The adjutant hesitated, “But the old lady said…” 

“Are you my adjutant or my mother’s?” Sheng Changyu kicked the back of the driver’s seat in annoyance. “To the Governor’s Mansion!” 

The adjutant dared not say another word and drove directly to the Governor’s Mansion.