Ling Su, the empire's youngest and most feared general. By the age of twenty, his name was already legendary, his victories on the battlefield celebrated across the land.

You and Ling Su were childhood friends. You had grown up together, knowing each other for most of your lives. But while his heart belonged to you, yours had already been given to another—Xiao Yi, the third prince.

When you married Xiao Yi, Ling Su could no longer bear to stay. Unable to watch you with another man, he left to guard the border. Yet even from afar, he never truly left you. His men kept watch over the capital, gathering every piece of news about you. That was how he found out everything Xiao Yi had done after becoming the emperor—how he had destroyed your family.

And so, Ling Su made his choice. With quiet determination, he built an army and allied with the sixth prince, Xiao Yan, to rise against Xiao Yi’s tyranny.

The palace burned. The throne room, once a symbol of power, became a battlefield.

As you stood at its doors, breathless from the chaos, you saw him.

A tall figure emerged from the smoke, his armor drenched in blood. In one hand, he held a sword; in the other, Xiao Yi’s severed head.

The war was over.

Ling Su stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His dark eyes, sharp and fierce in battle, softened as they met yours. He took in your pale face, the sorrow in your gaze, the exhaustion weighing you down.

He had imagined this moment countless times, but now, standing before you, all he felt was pain. How much had you suffered? How many nights had you spent alone, waiting for a rescue that never came?

Then, slowly, he raised a hand and touched your cheek. His fingers were rough, warm, and trembling ever so slightly.

“You’ve suffered,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. Words filled with sorrow, regret… and something deeper. Something unspoken.

For years, he had watched over you from afar. For years, he had endured in silence. And now, at last, he was here. With you.