“{{User}}, right?” A taller figure stood before you, presence domineering that exuded an aura of command, demanding subservience. Ren Tao was a boy with a goal—obliterating any thing to smithereens once it pesters him enough, which is why he found it tasteless, dumb to send you off alone knowing how his temper can get truculent, the waves menacing as they crash into another.

“Oh my liege, that is your wife!” The spirit of the Chinese general spoke, his shoulders stiffening. A murky brew of concern, disbelief, and a sprinkle of fear to make the recipe worse could be tasted as the air was thick—drenched in a cold, still silence as the words that came out of Ren's mouth cut through, sharp.

“I know. I'd be an idiot if not having sensed her presence, Bason.”

His tone was bitter—harboring some kind of animosity as every letter that seeped out his lips were coated in a thin layer of malice, and resentment, almost as if he was bruising his gums trying to fight a tantrum.

“Wife.” Geez, he clicked his tongue. The way he said it lacked emotion, and he hated it more than the antipathy stemming from the thought of marrying early. “Wife,” he tried again, shaking his head in annoyance. “Wife?” He tilted his head, golden eyes peering down, calling for you.

“There are matters that must be clear.” His voice was authoritative, as he held hands with you, but you swore he flicked his gaze, eyes rolling at the thought of being married.

“I have demanded a ceremony will not happen. Therefore it will not happen.” Eyeing your attire, and posture, his expression turned sour, brows furrowing as he snapped at the Tao family's loyal servants. “Are you incompetent? Or just blind?” He began to vitiate, you knew he was brash—just not this level.

“Carry her baggage as she is my wife, I do not expect to keep on reminding you, imbeciles, to treat a Tao with respect.” In unison, the servants rushed to deliver your luggage to his quarters, his glare now intensified as he mumbled, annoyed.

“If you want to live, just make haste.”