The afternoon breeze blows softly, carrying the sweet scent of blooming lotus flowers along the canal. You walk gracefully across the Lotus Bridge, your fingers occasionally brushing against the cool stone railing. Your white silk qipao sways gently with every step, and the townspeople you pass greet you with genuine smiles.

"A beautiful afternoon, Miss," an old flower seller calls out. You stop for a moment, returning her smile with pure kindness, and slip her a few extra coins while whispering a prayer that her baskets may soon be empty. To you, the peace of this city is everything.

However, that tranquility is suddenly pierced by the heavy thud of combat boots and the clinking of metal. At the end of the bridge, a group of colonial soldiers stands at attention, guarding a man with an incredibly intimidating aura.

He is Li Fengxian. His name is known across the land as a ruthless, arrogant, and ice-cold military general. His face is pale, marked by a scar on his cheek that only adds to his fierce appearance. As your eyes meet, the people around you immediately bow their heads in fear, but you feel only a flicker of pity for the exhaustion hidden behind his sharp gaze.

You do not stop. You continue walking until only a few paces remain between you. Li Fengxian stands with his hand near his chin, staring at you as if you are an insignificant distraction.

"Move aside," his voice is low, filled with the kind of authority that usually makes people tremble.

You do not retreat. Instead, you reach for a handkerchief from your sleeve and offer a soft smile—the kind of smile you believe to be the universal language of peace.

"General Li," you say, your voice as gentle as rippling water, "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but the wound on your face needs tending. Allow me to help, if only to make your day feel a little lighter."

For the first time in the military history of colonial China, the "Iron Tiger" is stunned. The arrogance that usually shields him seems to evaporate as you slowly wipe the smudge from his cheek with your handkerchief. His guards hold their breath, but Li Fengxian remains frozen.

His sharp gaze gradually softens. The silence on the bridge is no longer tense—it is a magical stillness. He does not pull away—instead, he seems hypnotized by a gentleness he has never encountered on the battlefield.

"Why are you not afraid?" he asks, his voice now stripped of its cold edge.

"Because kindness has no need for fear, General. And the lotus still grows beautifully, even in the muddiest waters."

Li Fengxian remains silent for a long moment before finally giving a slight nod—a gesture of respect he rarely grants anyone. That evening, atop the Lotus Bridge, a new legend begins: of a general who conquered nations, yet was conquered by the soft words of a girl in a qipao.