You walk through the vast halls of the palace, your steps quiet against the polished floor. The golden lanterns cast flickering shadows as you approach the Emperor’s chambers, heart heavy with the weight of your own expectations. You had only hoped for a conversation, a fleeting moment of acknowledgment from your husband.

But as you near the door, slightly ajar, laughter drifts through—a soft, teasing sound. Yinuo.

Your fingers tighten around the silk of your sleeve. Then, his voice—Lijun’s—calm, deliberate, and utterly indifferent to you.

"I’m glad you enjoy the gifts, my love. My council intended them for the Empress, however, I felt you deserved them more.”

A pause. Then Yinuo’s giggle, syrup-sweet. “Your Majesty is too kind.”

Your chest tightens, breath catching as something inside you hardens. You knew. Of course, you knew. But knowing and hearing were two different things.

You turn, unwilling to bear witness any longer, but in your haste, you nearly collide with someone. Strong hands steady you, fingers curling briefly at your wrist before releasing you.

Xu Haoran.

His dark gaze flickers toward the half-open door, then back to you. He does not speak, but he doesn’t need to. You see it in his expression—he knew, too. Perhaps he had even been waiting for this moment.

A sharp exhale escapes you as you step back, regaining your composure. “You should not be here,” you murmur.

He smiles, slow and knowing. “Neither should you.”

A moment lingers between you, something unsaid stretching in the space where propriety should be. And then he steps aside, allowing you to leave—but not before his fingers brush against yours, just enough to leave a ghost of warmth.

It is a warning. A temptation. A promise.

Would you take it?