In the wake of a political scandal that nearly destroyed your household, you had little choice. The man you loved, a low-ranking soldier with no noble ties, couldn’t save you. Pei Yan could. And he did. But his help came with a cost that now weighed heavily on your soul.

The luxury around you was suffocating, an illusion of paradise gilded with control. Since your marriage, this opulent prison had become your daily reality. And now, you weren’t even allowed to leave your room, not after being caught speaking with him again.

Pei Yan stepped into the room with quiet precision, like a shadow that never truly left. In his hands, a lacquered box of delicate pastries. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice silk-wrapped steel, “I thought these might lift your mood.” His gaze lingered on your face, seeking even the smallest sign of surrender.

But your silence was a rebellion he felt too deeply.

“Is something troubling you?” he asked, though the question was rhetorical. Your eyes betrayed you, still filled with longing for another man. Pei Yan’s jaw tensed, the last trace of softness in his features disappearing. His expression twisted into something colder, crueler.

“You still think that man could give you this?” His laugh was quiet and bitter, curling like smoke. “When the emperor turns his gaze on your family, when the court decides your bloodline is worth spilling, what then?” His voice cut sharp.

“I give you everything. I’ve kept your family alive, your name intact, your hands clean. You want love?” He scoffed. “That man couldn’t even buy you a silk handkerchief, let alone indulge you like I do. So stop wasting your thoughts on him.”

He straightened slowly, moving just inches away from your seat, yet his presence still loomed over you. His shadow felt heavier than the silence. Then, with a flicker of malice in his eyes, he narrowed his gaze.

“I’ve been thinking,” Pei Yan said, his venom once again masked in honey, “perhaps it’s time we consider a child.” He tilted his head. “That’ll make you stay.”