The Little Darling Wife Who is a Divine Doctor Saved the Entire Family of the Duke's Mansion Chapter 1: Worship with Heroes and Idols

"Everyone, take a look. Here stands the legendary Mausoleum of Mo Jiuye, the celebrated general from history," declared the tour guide, swinging a small flag as she guided the group toward the underground palace entrance.

Upon arriving at this place, He Zhiran inexplicably sensed a deep solemnity.

As a special forces medic, she revered no celebrities—only genuine heroes.

The master of this mausoleum, Mo Jiuye, ranked among the heroes she truly admired.

Mo Jiuye served as the greatest general of the Da Shun Dynasty, crushing invading foes with utter decisiveness.

Yet even such a hero faced suspicion from the emperor of that era, who stripped him of his post solely due to his immense fame and influence.

As the guide droned on with endless details, He Zhiran kept sighing inwardly.

One could only lament that this hero emerged in the wrong era. Had Mo Jiuye survived a bit longer until the new emperor ascended, his name would have been cleared. Alas, cruel fate struck—he perished en route to exile...

While He Zhiran sank into her reflections, a fierce tremor suddenly rocked the ground beneath her feet.

A voice yelled out, "Run fast, earthquake!"

With her elite skills, He Zhiran could have escaped the catastrophe unscathed. But to rescue others, she remained behind forever.

Just before blacking out, a faint smile touched He Zhiran's lips. "Being laid to rest alongside the hero isn't so bad."

...

Da Shun Dynasty.

Joyous lanterns adorned the Duke of Protector's residence, filled with the clamor of drums and festive tunes.

"First, bow to heaven and earth!"

At the resounding call stretched long and loud, He Zhiran moved like a marionette, assisted in her bow.

"Second, bow to the high hall!"

"Now, bride and groom, bow to each other!"

"Proceed to the bridal chamber..."

Though dizziness lingered in He Zhiran's head, it failed to halt the influx of this body's memories.

Brushing aside the raucous cheers and the matchmaker's nonstop blessings, He Zhiran dove fully into her contemplations.

Once she pieced together those memories, acceptance dawned: she had transmigrated.

Even more astonishing, she had become the fresh bride of the very hero Mo Jiuye she idolized...

This body's original owner shared her name, He Zhiran—the eldest daughter of He Yuanming, the present Minister of Revenue. Betrothed to Mo Jiuye in childhood, the match was sealed early.

The Mo family boasted generations of unwavering loyalty. Every male had laid down his life for the realm, leaving only Mo Jiuye now.

Five years prior, after Mo Jiuye's eldest brother fell in battle, the then-16-year-old Mo Jiuye assumed command of the forces. Simultaneously, he shouldered the burden of sustaining the Duke of Protector's residence, brimming with widows.

With Mo Jiuye's victorious return, Old Madam Mo arranged the wedding on a propitious date.

Yet the original owner desperately sought to dissolve the betrothal. She refused to end up a widow like the women of the Duke of Protector's household.

After all, every Mo man had met an early grave on the battlefield without fail.

The original owner schemed relentlessly to break the engagement. However, her upright father, He Yuanming, refused absolutely to annul it.

To guarantee the original owner's seamless marriage into the Duke of Protector's residence, He Yuanming and his wife Ling Xueyan resorted to drugging her. They figured that once the deed was done, their daughter would yield to destiny.

Perhaps they erred on the dosage, causing the original owner to perish inside the bridal sedan—and paving the way for He Zhiran's soul.

Still, He Zhiran puzzled over one detail: in the history she recalled, Mo Jiuye remained unwed right up to his exile.

Might the original owner's death in the sedan have prevented the ancestral rites with Mo Jiuye, thus erasing her from records?

As her mind wandered, the din outside the bridal chamber swelled.

Her maid Qiao Yu nudged her arm gently. "Miss, the young master has arrived."

He Zhiran murmured back, "Alright."

A lively throng ushered Mo Jiuye, clad in vibrant red wedding attire, into the chamber.

"Young Master, lift the veil now! Don't let the lucky hour slip away." The matchmaker beamed, passing him a balancing rod adorned with scarlet ribbons.

"Ninth brother, make haste. We're all eager to behold your bride!"

"Exactly, ninth brother. No need to feel bashful..."

Clutching the balancing rod, Mo Jiuye was led by his sisters-in-law straight to He Zhiran.

Under the watchful eyes of all present, he paused and gently raised the red veil that blocked He Zhiran's view.

He Zhiran instinctively gazed at the man before her.

She estimated his height at around 185cm, his stance ramrod straight with powerful limbs.

His chiseled features resembled a masterpiece carving. That strikingly handsome face bore a resemblance to the portrait in the mausoleum.

His stoic expression paired with those piercing, profound eyes instinctively instilled a feeling of pressure in others!

In He Zhiran's mind, this was exactly what her heroic idol should look like.

While she was momentarily lost in thought, Mo Jiuye spoke in an icy tone.

"Have you looked enough?"

Only then did He Zhiran snap back to reality, realizing her mind had wandered.

Meeting those intense eyes, she impulsively replied, "Yeah, looked enough. Just so-so."

It wasn't a lack of respect for her hero; with so many onlookers, and him showing her no courtesy, she saw no need to fawn over him deliberately.

Noticing the rocky beginning right after the wedding, Sister-in-law Deng Xue hurriedly intervened.

"Ninth brother, ninth sister-in-law, don't let this ruin the auspicious moment. Drink the nuptial cup and retire early."

Sister-in-law Feng Cuilian chimed in as well, "Exactly, work hard and produce lots of heirs for the Mo family."

Hearing these sisters-in-law, even He Zhiran, with her modern soul, felt her cheeks heat up slightly.

In her past life as a 24-year-old singleton devoted to her nation, she'd never imagined facing such an awkward scene.

To hide her fluster, she promptly ducked her head.

Others misinterpreted the gesture once more.

Sister-in-law Xiao Qinger grasped He Zhiran's hand, "Ninth sister-in-law, no need to be bashful. You'll warm up to us sisters-in-law soon enough. We just love teasing."

He Zhiran attempted to clarify, "I'm not shy."

Before the other sisters-in-law could respond, a shout rang out from beyond the door.

"Young Master, His Majesty has dispatched an urgent verbal decree, commanding you to enter the palace at once."

At those words, He Zhiran's heart skipped a beat.

Seeing Mo Jiuye already striding away, she seized the nearby maid and demanded, "Qiao Yu, what is the current year and month?"

Qiao Yu blinked in surprise, her face full of confusion, before replying, "Miss, have you forgotten your wedding day? It's the eighth day of the seventh month in the 19th year of the Shun Yuan era!"

"Oh no!"

Gazing at Mo Jiuye's retreating back, He Zhiran's immediate thought was to ensure her idol hero survived, now that she was here.

Ignoring her frail state and the bewildered stares from the sisters-in-law, He Zhiran abruptly rose, hiked up her skirts, and dashed after him.

If memory served her right, tonight Mo Jiuye would be summoned to the palace by the emperor and falsely accused of invading the imperial harem, suffering a hundred brutal lashes.

The following day, he'd face charges of treason, the Duke of Protector's residence would be seized, and Mo Jiuye exiled.