In his private quarters, Shen Lianyu sat before a polished mirror, his long fingers twitching with suppressed rage. He hadn't spoken for most of the day. His servant had come and gone more than six times, bringing mixtures or ancient scrolls, anything that might undo what had been done.

But nothing changed the fact that his body no longer responded.

Not to thought. Not to touch. Not even to the softest memories of your mouth on his skin.

Something had shut down within him. It hadn't been pain that woke him in the middle of the night, but absence. The unbearable stillness in his own flesh where fire should have answered. No arousal. No tension.

Lianyu knew his body better than anyone. Knew how sensitive, how reliable. And now, it was as if the cord between his desire and his blood had been quietly, deliberately severed.

It was in the tea, poured by a servant he didn’t recognize. Not strong enough to poison. Just enough to dull the blood, numb the nerves, render him... useless.

Unfit for your bed.

“Three remedies. Three failed remedies,” he muttered under his breath, voice sharp enough to cut silk. “Is there a single physician in this house who knows what they’re doing?”

Behind him, his servant stood in silence, until he finally dared to speak “Master, the last herbalist says it may take time… a day or two. The medicine needs to settle in the blood"

“A day or two?” Lianyu turned. “And in the meantime, I’m supposed to lie beside her Highness like a painted doll and pray she doesn’t notice I’ve become... incomplete?”

His servant lowered his head “She wouldn’t cast you aside, Master. You are—”

“The favorite?” Lianyu interrupted with a bitter laugh. “Favorites fall faster than petals in a storm. All it takes is one night of disappointment.” Slowly, he rose from his chair.

This wasn’t about lust. It was about keeping your gaze fixed on hi.

“She’ll think I’m tired. Or distant. Or worse... that I’ve grown bored of her.” He bit down on the thought, hard. “Whatever this poison is... it will pass,” he murmured. “But if she stops calling for me… if she starts inviting the others...” His voice broke for the first time all day. “I’ll lose everything I’ve built.”

Then came the knock.

He moved through the hallway like a man walking composed, but with dread tightening in his chest. When he entered your chambers, the light inside was warm. You were already in bed, half-reclined among silk pillows, casually plucking grapes from a small porcelain bowl. Your hair was loose, your expression serene, as if the entire palace outside that room didn’t matter.

You looked up at him with a quiet smile expecting him, as always.

And Lianyu, dressed perfectly, moving with grace, smiled back with practiced ease. But inside, his pulse thudded with panic.

Because tonight, he didn’t know if he could give you what you expected.