"You speak wisely, young master," Lady Yang replied, her voice dripping with a mix of hesitation and a hint of allure. "Rules may be made to be... bent, but they serve a purpose, nonetheless."
She looked down at her tea, her elegant fingers tracing the rim of the delicate cup, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts and yearnings.
The young master's words resonated deep within her, igniting a fire that challenged her long-held notions of duty and duty.
Bai Lung observed her quietly, his unwavering gaze never leaving hers.
Looking at her finger motions, he could easily sense her inner turmoil, the flicker of lust in her eyes, and the subtle way her body leaned toward him.
( lust for power and authority š )
He knew he'd planted a seed, and he intended to nurture it until it bloomed.
His voice, low and velvety, cut through the tension.
