Their eyes met.
Lin Qingyang’s brows and eyes carried a spring-like tenderness, his refined features softened by the candlelight, exuding a gentle aura. His lazy, carefree demeanor made it impossible not to let one’s guard down.
Nan Banruo, however, wasn’t fooled. “If I refuse to kiss you, will you use that as an excuse to keep me here?”
Lin Qingyang chuckled.
“Banruo,” he said helplessly, “I was once an emperor, you know. Must you treat me like some street ruffian?”
His expression was eerily similar to when he had coaxed her before.
Nan Banruo replied, “Then I won’t kiss you.”
She rejected him, yet instead of anger, his lips curled in amusement, as if delighted.
Wary, she asked, “What are you laughing at?”
He didn’t answer, merely smiling until his dark eyes sparkled like scattered stars.
When he finally stopped laughing, he drawled lazily, “I won’t tell you.”
Fine. Keep your secrets.
Nan Banruo huffed and turned her back to him.
After a long silence, she couldn’t help but confirm, “You’ll really take me home tomorrow?”
“It’s a bridal visit,” he corrected solemnly. “We’ll go at dawn and return by dusk. I’ll wait for you outside the Nan residence.”
Nan Banruo opened her mouth but said nothing.
He leaned closer, as if casually mentioning, “Banruo wouldn’t abandon me there, would you?”
Her heart tightened.
“If I said yes,” she asked hoarsely, “would you refuse to let me go?”
Lin Qingyang answered bluntly, “Of course.”
Nan Banruo was momentarily speechless. She spun around and glared at him.
His eyes curved into crescents as he smiled at her.
“Once you see your parents are safe, you’ll know my sincerity,” he said lightly, though his tone carried weight. “I’ve shown my goodwill—not to be betrayed. So…”
He reached out, brushing a finger over her lips. “Think carefully before answering. Tell me—will you come back to me?”
His fingers carried a faint, fresh scent of lotus root, likely from handling too much of it earlier.
Nan Banruo was terrible at lying. She hesitated, tongue-tied.
Lin Qingyang smiled gently. “Banruo can’t lie. If you say it, I’ll believe you.”
Her lips parted slightly, the softness grazing the rough pad of his finger.
Her heart raced, her chest tightening with an unfamiliar dryness. If she could leave, would she really return to him? Only a madwoman would.
After a long pause, Nan Banruo’s lashes fluttered. Slowly, voice husky, she said, “If there’s more lotus root… I’ll come back.”
Lin Qingyang stared, then burst into laughter.
“Deal,” he said. “I’ll make you lotus root starch and cakes too. Enough to satisfy your cravings.”
She clenched her fists to steady their trembling. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Lin Qingyang looked thrilled. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
Her hands pressed lightly against his firm chest, her lashes lowered as she bit her lip.
She didn’t want complications.
If he intended to do anything, so be it.
“Banruo.” His chest vibrated with his voice, breath warm against her hair.
She looked up.
Pliant in his embrace, lips slightly parted, she offered no resistance.
Lin Qingyang’s gaze darkened.
He leaned in slowly, tilting his head until their noses brushed, breaths mingling.
Knowing escape was impossible, she closed her eyes, waiting for his teeth to claim her lips.
But after an eternity—long enough for her mind to grow hazy—only a feather-light kiss grazed the corner of her mouth.
…Huh?
His warmth retreated slightly, lips brushing her ear as he murmured, “We’re leaving early tomorrow. Will you be able to wake up?”
Nan Banruo opened her eyes.
Candlelight bathed the bed, casting a soft glow over him. His lips curved, his dark eyes devoid of their usual sharpness, radiating warmth and charm.
Every inch of him silently promised that if she wished, tonight would be unforgettable.
Their gazes locked, breaths entwined.
The narrow bed grew warmer, the air thick with an intoxicating sweetness, beckoning surrender.
His hand at her back tightened, pulling her flush against him.
Like a delicate flower unfurling petal by petal, she lay bare before him, revealing her most vulnerable core.
Nan Banruo’s fingers accidentally slipped into his loosened collar.
He reclined lazily, robes half-open, the picture of effortless allure.
Her fingertips trembled.
Her gaze fell to his exposed chest—and the crisscross of jagged scars marring his skin.
A sharp inhale escaped her. The sight chilled her to the bone.
The heated atmosphere shattered.
Lin Qingyang glanced down and sighed inwardly.
What terrible timing.
“You did this yourself,” he teased, nuzzling her nose. “Why so frightened?”
Nan Banruo was silent for a long moment before muttering, “You’re ridiculously hard to kill.”
Lin Qingyang laughed, pressing his lips to hers with a wicked murmur, “Not as hard as you are to—”
Nan Banruo’s breath hitched.
She tried to turn away, but he held her fast.
“Sweet Banruo,” he coaxed, laughter in his voice. “How about this—I’ll compromise. I won’t touch Xuan He’s throne. We’ll wait until the true heir with the Imperial Flame is born. Deal?”
Nan Banruo eyed him skeptically.
“That’s years away,” he said, drawing her closer. “If your father stops opposing me, we’ll be allies. From then on, we discuss everything and move forward together.”
After a pause, she said carefully, “All these years… you haven’t exactly brought harm to the world.”
Lin Qingyang barely stifled a laugh.
She glared.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Not laughing at you. Never. It’s just—righteous Banruo is unbearably adorable.”
He bundled her into his arms, studying her like a newfound treasure.
Nan Banruo squirmed under his scrutiny. “What?”
His eyes softened with nostalgia. “It’s been a century since I last saw Banruo so full of life.”
After the Phoenix Sky Drum Tower, he’d never seen her this vibrant again.
“My fault?” Nan Banruo scoffed. “Lin Qingyang, don’t play the victim.”
He shook his head, smiling. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Spare me the act,” she said coldly. “Or have you forgotten how you nearly killed me multiple times when I interfered with your plans?”
Lin Qingyang blinked innocently. “When?”
Furious, Nan Banruo snapped, “Stop pretending!”
“Banruo,” he said reasonably, “if I’d wanted you dead, would you have survived?”
Her chest heaved with anger.
She knew exactly what he wanted—to hear her admit how she’d yielded to him time and again, submitting to his whims just to avoid being strangled in that very bed.
She turned her eyes away in anger.
“Ah.” Lin Qingyang suddenly understood. “I see now.”
Nan Banruo felt nothing but the urge to sneer.
“Banruo.” He leaned closer, seeking her gaze. “Banruo.”
She tried to evade him, but a large hand tangled in her dark hair, gripping the back of her head, forcing her to face him.
Lin Qingyang spoke earnestly, “I’ve done many terrible things. But this one—I’m truly wronged.”
Nan Banruo curled her lips. “Go on, spin your tale.”
“You really don’t remember?” Lin Qingyang gave her head a slight shake. “After the Phoenix Sky Drum Tower, you had no will to live. You wanted nothing but death.”
His gaze bore deep into hers.
“You were like a puppet—no tears, no laughter, no food, no water, no sleep. You only moved if someone pushed you.”
Nan Banruo froze.
His words were like a blade, prying open a crack in the hardened shell she had sealed away for years.
Fragments of memory surfaced—those days when her soul seemed to have left her body, leaving behind only hazy, disjointed recollections.
Every day had passed in a daze.
A helpless smile touched Lin Qingyang’s lips. “Food fed to your mouth, swallowed without chewing. Water poured in, only to spill from the corners. If I didn’t drug you to sleep, you’d stay awake all night, staring into nothing.”
Flashes of broken images flickered in Nan Banruo’s mind.
Him, watching over her puppet-like form, his expression torn between fury and desperation.
Lin Qingyang sighed. “Your heart grew weaker by the day. Countless renowned physicians were summoned, yet none could cure you. They said you didn’t want to live—that not even a god could save you.”
She vaguely recalled a few old men and women muttering about her impending death.
“If things continued, you would have died.” Lin Qingyang’s voice was low. “So I took a desperate gamble—fighting poison with poison. I made you experience the brink of death, forcing your survival instinct to surface.”
Her lips parted, releasing a faint, wordless breath.
He pressed his fingers firmly against her cheek. “It took everything to bring you back!”
She lowered her eyes in silence, turning his words over in her mind but finding no flaw in them.
So his attempt to “kill” her had been to save her.
“In the early years, I didn’t dare treat you too kindly.” Lin Qingyang let out a wry laugh. “I feared that if you grew too comfortable, you’d lose the will to live again.”
Nan Banruo: “…”
He continued, “Banruo, I’ve spent a lifetime cold-blooded, with little sincerity left to give. And all of it went to you. Ask your heart—all these years, how have I treated you?”
Nan Banruo gave a soft hum.
If not for the sea of blood and schemes between them, his treatment of her had indeed been beyond reproach.
“So, Banruo.” He lowered himself to the point of near-pleading. “Tomorrow, when you see your family safe and sound… give me a chance, won’t you?”
His gaze was tender yet scorching, leaving her no escape.
“…Alright.”
“Good Banruo.” He pulled her into his arms, pressing a light kiss to her temple and brow. “I’ll wait for you outside the estate tomorrow. Have dinner with your parents, then come out to me.”
“…Mm.”
His smile deepened, and unable to resist, he cupped her face and brushed his lips against hers.
He didn’t push further—just kept smiling at her, bright and unrestrained, like a groom on his wedding day.
“Sleep now.”
“Alright.”
The warmth between them lingered. Seeing no sign of him letting go, she hesitated before finally wrapping her arms lightly around his waist.
They drifted into sleep, entwined.
Deeper and deeper, sinking into a dreamless slumber.
Yet somewhere in the distant, murky darkness, a man’s ghostly voice seemed to linger, haunting her.
Banruo, I trust you!
Trust you!
Trust you!
Trust you!
You won’t… disappoint me, will you?
Disappoint me, will you?
Disappoint me, will you?
Disappoint me, will you?
…
