So, I’ve been quietly writing a novel and wanted to finally share a summary of it here.

There are stories that arrive gently, like petals drifting onto water.
And then there are stories that arrive like a wound, a prayer, and a promise all at once.

This one began with a girl who could hear what the world tried to bury.

For a long time, Huashi lived only in fragments of thought—shadows, battles, unanswered questions about love and loyalty. She wasn’t born from a plan. She grew from feelings I couldn’t place anywhere else: what it means to be strong when you’re misunderstood, what it means to obey when your heart longs for something truer, and what happens when two guarded souls meet, not to conquer, but to recognize one another.

The Ghost and the Iron Wolf is not just a war story.
It’s about survival turning into devotion.
It’s about being forced into a future you didn’t choose—then choosing it anyway.
It’s about two soldiers standing on opposite ends of a battlefield and walking toward the middle.

Below is the heart of that world: a glimpse into Huashi Song and Kezang Chen—their war, their tenderness, their defiance, and the love that threatens a throne built on control.

Huashi Song was never meant to be a bride.

Once abandoned in blood and betrayal, she learned to survive by listening to the dead. The spirits became her armor, her witnesses, and her curse. Through ten years of war on the Northern Frontier, Huashi rose as the Empire’s feared Phantom General—haunted, brilliant, untouchable. The court called her useful. The people called her cursed. And the Throne called her disposable.

Kezang Chen was forged for obedience.

Duke of the Iron Province and commander of an unbreakable army, he ruled through discipline, silence, and endurance. Known as the Obsidian Wolf, Kezang was the Empire’s shield—steady, lethal, and loyal. But loyalty to a corrupt throne is still a chain, and Kezang spent his life learning how to bear it without breaking.

When the Empress forces their marriage, it is not a union of love, but the weaponization of two legends meant to cancel each other out.

Their wedding becomes a battlefield. Assassins strike before the vows grow warm. Exorcists attempt to burn Huashi alive. The Empress replaces her army and tries to erase her name.

Yet instead of destroying one another, the Ghost and the Wolf recognize something dangerous in each other: a reflection. Kezang does not fear Huashi’s shadows. Huashi does not bend beneath Kezang’s iron. Together, they form a pact colder than romance and stronger than command.

What begins as an alliance becomes intimacy.

Behind fortress walls and blood-soaked banners, they discover one another beyond war—hidden talents, quiet laughter, vulnerability beneath armor. Kezang learns to hear the spirits whisper Huashi’s name. Huashi learns the gentleness buried inside a general carved from stone. Love does not grow from softness, but from survival shared.

But the Throne sees their bond as treason.

Two soldiers from opposite ends of a battlefield have met in the middle. Like legendary warriors reunited, their union threatens a system built on separation and control. The Empress moves to sever them before prophecy can take root—before the Shield learns the language of Fire and the Ghost learns what it means to belong.

Now, Huashi and Kezang must decide what kind of legends they will become:
Weapons of the Empire,
or the beginning of its end.

Writing them has reminded me why I love stories that live in shadows as much as in light. Huashi and Kezang aren’t just characters—they are fragments of courage, defiance, and longing. Their world is brutal and beautiful, but even amidst war, there is tenderness. And sometimes, when legends meet, the smallest moments—a glance, a shared laugh, a whisper—can change everything.

This is only the beginning. I hope, one day, you’ll meet them fully and watch as the Ghost and the Iron Wolf carve their place in a world that tried to keep them apart.

With love,

Ang 🌸