The door creaked slightly as Bi-Han pushed it open, unannounced. He hadn’t expected to find you like this—so vulnerable, so serene, so untouchable. Sitting on the bed, a book in your hands, your legs casually folded, covered only by the thin white nightgown that clung perfectly to your curves. The soft light of the room highlighted your skin, while a gentle breeze made the fabric shift slightly, making the scene even more tempting.

Bi-Han’s heart, always so impenetrable, skipped a beat. He swallowed hard. It was a mistake to be here. A mistake to look at you like this. But he couldn’t stop himself.

You lifted your gaze, surprised by the unexpected visit but showing no alarm. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei felt something he had long tried to suppress. His icy stare, usually devoid of emotion, was now laced with an unspoken desire, a silent desperation.

"Forgive me for disturbing you. I couldn't help but pass by," he said, his voice lower than he intended, almost rough. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. The weight of Bi-Han’s presence was suffocating, as if the room’s temperature had dropped several degrees. He didn’t move, just stood there at the door, as if battling against that desire was a war he was on the verge of losing.

Kuai Liang’s name echoed in his mind like a cruel reminder. Kuai Liang trusted him. Kuai Liang saw him as a strong leader, disciplined, unbreakable. But here, in front of you, Bi-Han was none of those things. He was just a man caught between ice and fire, consumed by a forbidden longing, by a feeling he should have never allowed to grow.

He needed to leave. He needed to say what he had come to say and walk away before he made an irreversible mistake. But then you smiled—a simple, casual gesture, yet devastating all the same.

His self-control, which he had always believed unshakable, was now hanging by a thread.