Jiang Yunshu caught a deep, distinctive woody scent from Xie Lin, reminiscent of a forest on a rainy day. At this moment, she was entirely enveloped in his embrace, every inch of her wrapped in his presence. Her chin rested against his shoulder, while the white jade prayer beads on his wrist pressed against the tender flesh of her chest...
In an instant, Jiang Yunshu’s face flushed crimson.
Flustered, she struggled to straighten herself and pull away from Xie Lin’s arms. But in her haste, she nearly stumbled again, prolonging her time against him just a little longer.
"Th-thank you, Your Excellency..." she murmured softly.
Logically, she knew Xie Lin was a eunuch—such closeness shouldn’t defy propriety.
Yet Xie Lin was nothing like the other eunuchs, whose identities were obvious at a glance. His appearance, his voice—none of it betrayed him as a castrato.
On the contrary, he was a man of undeniable dominance.
Just a brief, accidental fall into his arms left Jiang Yunshu with the illusion that every strand of her hair now carried his scent.
Moreover, she didn’t subscribe to the common belief that eunuchs weren’t men. They were simply physically altered—their hearts and minds remained undeniably male.
As Xie Lin felt her slip from his embrace, his hands instinctively twitched to pull her back.
With the last shred of his restraint, he forced his trembling arms to stillness.
No words could capture the surge of joy he felt upon seeing those eyes again.
The moment he caught Jiang Yunshu, it was as if he had cradled the radiant moon he gazed upon every night.
For the first time, the hollowness in Xie Lin’s chest felt filled.
He never imagined this day would come.
Seven years ago, he had experienced a similar thrill.
That day, from the second floor of Zuixian Tower, he had glimpsed the same eyes that haunted his childhood memories. He later learned they belonged to Jiang Zhaohua, the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Xiping’s Mansion. He rescued her from the Late Emperor’s burial entourage and brought her to the Xie Residence, only to be utterly disillusioned when he lifted her bridal veil.
Beneath it were not the eyes he sought.
Jiang Zhaohua was not the one.
Xie Lin had thought himself deluded. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head—how could he expect a reunion in the vast sea of humanity?
Hadn’t he long accepted that those eyes were lost to him forever?
Yet now, he stood frozen, staring at Jiang Yunshu before him.
How foolish he had been.
It never occurred to him that seven years ago, he had simply mistaken the person.
By the narrowest margin—the one he sought was Jiang Zhaohua’s younger sister.
That tiny oversight had cost him years... A hair’s breadth from missing her for a lifetime.
The joy of rediscovery swelled in Xie Lin’s chest, mingled with a shuddering fear of what might have been.
His heart threatened to burst. He wanted to clutch her tightly, carry her straight to his palace, and crush her into his embrace until she melded with him...
He forced his breaths to steady, reminding himself to be patient—agonizingly patient.
The Xie Lin of seven years ago would have seized Jiang Yunshu without hesitation.
But the man he was now wouldn’t act so rashly. Silently, he began to scheme.
Because he wanted more—so much more—than just Jiang Yunshu herself.
Xie Lin suppressed the tremors coursing through his body as he watched Jiang Yunshu walk out of the pavilion.
It wouldn't be long before he'd make her return to his side.
