The morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains, drawing a long, thin strip of brightness across the carpet.
Jiang Lijin opened her eyes and stared at the plaster patterns on the ceiling for a long moment, her mind still hazy and disconnected.
Her waist ached, her legs were weak, and she didn’t have the strength to lift even an arm.
The bed beside her had long been empty, the sheets kicked into a tangled mess, the fabric wrinkled beyond belief. There was still a lingering trace of something unspeakable in the air—it was obvious last night had been rough.
That mad snake.
She turned over. The memory of water running late into the night in the bathroom came back in fragments—the cold, unforgiving edge of the sink counter, her lower back still throbbing dully at the thought.
Baal was all about command and order in the military, but when it came to this, he acted purely on instinct. No finesse whatsoever. And his stamina was simply ridiculous.
Last night, the little black snake had been shut outside, frantically tapping its tail against the door. Inside, Baal’s golden pupils had blazed almost too hot to bear, gripping Jiang Lijin’s waist tight as he kept going, over and over.
[Jiang Lijin got kicked out of her own body, yeah?] a mechanical voice chimed inside her head, full of cheek. [Mornin’, host big sis. Sleep well?]
Jiang Lijin rolled her eyes internally, ignoring it.
[Oh, come on, I’m just lookin’ out for ya, you know?] The voice—Little One—refused to die, rattling on without fear. [Baal left before dawn, by the way. Cleaned up the bathroom real quiet-like before he went. Real gentle, careful not to wake you.]
At least he had the sense to get out fast.
She threw off the blanket and swung her legs out of bed. The moment her toes touched the floor, her knees buckled.
Grabbing the nightstand for balance, she glanced down at herself.
That silk nightgown had long since been reduced to shreds, lying discarded in the trash. Now she was wearing a loose black military T-shirt—coarse fabric, the hem barely reaching upper thighs. The neckline was loose enough to reveal, when she looked down, all the red and purple marks spread across her collarbones and neck.
Like a dog. He was just like a dog.
Slipping on her house shoes, she shuffled into the bathroom. The counter was spotless, not even a smear of water in sight. But by the mirror sat a small note.
The handwriting was wild, practically snarling off the paper with its intensity—【Wait for me.】
After a quick wash, she headed downstairs. The aroma of breakfast had already drifted from the kitchen.
Chiron was seated at the dining table, holding a printed briefing report. He looked up when he heard footsteps on the stairs. His gray eyes paused over Jiang Lijin for just a moment.
That gaze was calm enough, yet it seemed to see everything.
“You’re awake,” Chiron said, setting down the report. He stood and pulled out the chair. “There’s snowberry-and-oat porridge in the kitchen, along with a few light pastries. You’re... not suited for anything heavy right now.”
Jiang Lijin sat down, stiffness in every movement. She had that feeling that the “right now” he’d added held some deeper meaning—but to be fair, that man’s face-control was so perfect he gave nothing away.
“Where’s Tinia?” Jiang Lijin took a sip of porridge.
“Out in the yard, beating on a punching bag.” Chiron returned to his seat, tone flat. “He was a bit unsettled this morning. Probably didn’t sleep well last night.”
That night hadn’t just been ill sleep. That golden fox had a nose keener than anyone else’s. The sour and pungent smell leftover from Baal’s passion during the night must have already marked every corner of this villa.
Jiang Lijin didn’t bother engaging. She kept her focus on breakfast.
After a meal, they moved into the study.
Chiron came over and placed a warm therapeutic pad gently behind Jiang Lijin’s lower back. Soft heat seeped through the fabric, soothing most of the pain.
“Daron went into quite the fit after returning to the palace last night, replacing the entire gold vault security system three times over in the span of a single night,” Chiron said, pulling up a holographic projection on the screen. It displayed energy consumption data from the Cabinet building.“Since the Defense Forces Supreme Commander defected to our side, Daron has become isolated. But he isn’t going to just give up.”
“What tactics could he still pull? The crown’s on Rona, and the Defense Forces are in my hands,” Jiang Lijin leaned back against the pad, finding a comfortable spot.
“The aristocracy,” Chiron replied, bringing up a name list. “Daron has deep influences among the council. He might incite those old-guard nobles into demanding a regency committee on the grounds that Rona’s too young to rule. If that succeeds, your powers would be hollowed out. It’s the official narrative.”
“By now, the starlit net has split in two sides: one believes you are the royal family’s rescue, while the other streams Daron’s sponsored hatespeech, which claims you’re forcing the cabinet with military threats to take the throne for yourself.”
Jiang Lijin let out a cold laugh. “Taking the throne? These politicians don’t have a single other conspiracy on their minds besides that, do they?”
Chiron looked at her, his gray gaze turning a little softer.
“I’ve already instructed the Information Security Division of the Science Institute to intervene, removing the accounts deliberately stirring negative commentaries. As for Cloud Lan Group, Tinia’s also invested heavily—managed to corner a few headline spots across the mainstream outlets.”
“That boy spends money like it’s nothing.”
“Every action for you,” Chiron said neatly, praising Tinia’s efforts while subtly underscoring his motivations.
He certainly wanted his wife to watch his worth a second longer. But more than that, he wanted this home to remain a careful balance, not a single-suned sky.
In the courtyard, the splintering sound of the savage-bag stopped. It was replaced by the long rush of water from a tap, and a thick, half-suppressed sigh of frustration.
