Pain greeted Rui before consciousness did. His wrists ached from the golden chains binding them together, the metal cool against his skin despite the warmth of the room. He stirred, vision swimming, the scent of incense and sandalwood filling his nose.
He was no longer in the palace ruins.
Silken curtains swayed in the dim candlelight. The bed beneath him—no, the throne-like bed—was draped in rich crimson, embroidered with golden dragons chasing pearls of fire. Everything was extravagant, opulent… suffocating.
Rui gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright, ignoring the dull pain in his body. His robes had been changed—he now wore red, the color of marriage. The flowing silk wrapped around him was absurdly fine, the embroidery intricate, but it was not his. It was a bride's robe.
His stomach twisted.
The doors creaked open.
Li Yuan entered, his presence as suffocating as ever. He had abandoned his armor, now dressed in imperial robes of deep gold, his long dark hair loosely tied behind him. The flickering light cast shadows across his sharp features, emphasizing the cruel amusement in his golden eyes.
"You're awake," Li Yuan observed, his voice infuriatingly casual. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through our wedding night."
Rui glared at him. "This farce is no wedding."
Li Yuan stepped closer, the air around him charged with cultivation energy. His presence demanded submission, as if the world itself bent under his will. But Rui refused to yield. He straightened his back, lifting his chin despite the chains around his wrists.
Li Yuan's gaze flickered to them. "The chains are for your own good. I had no desire to bind you, but after you nearly killed my physician, I had little choice."
Rui smirked, unrepentant. "He deserved worse."
A chuckle rumbled from Li Yuan's throat, as if he truly enjoyed Rui's resistance. "You're a stubborn one. I expected defiance, but not to this extent. Most would have broken by now."
Rui's jaw tightened. "Then you don't know me at all."
Li Yuan's smile was lazy, but his gaze was sharp. "No. But I intend to."
With a flick of his fingers, the golden chains dissolved into nothingness—his cultivation at work. Rui rubbed his wrists, though the gesture was more out of defiance than relief.
"Why keep me alive?" Rui demanded. "Why marry me?"
Li Yuan studied him, then turned toward a nearby table where a jade teapot rested. He poured a cup of tea, his movements unhurried. "There are many reasons."
He held out the cup. Rui didn't take it.
Li Yuan sighed and took a sip himself before setting it down. "For one, your power. The Moonlit Qilin Bloodline runs through your veins—rare, valuable, and wasted in a fallen kingdom. With proper cultivation, you could surpass even the grandmasters of the sects. I would be a fool to kill you."
Rui clenched his fists. His late father had always warned him never to reveal the full extent of his bloodline's abilities. And yet, Li Yuan had already uncovered his secret.
"You want to use me," Rui accused.
Li Yuan didn't deny it. "Yes. But power alone does not interest me."
He stepped closer, close enough that Rui could see the faint traces of old scars beneath the fine silk of his robes. A warrior, even beneath all the regality.
"I have conquered many lands, Rui," Li Yuan murmured. "And I have taken many things by force. But I have never taken a consort. Not until now." His voice dropped lower. "Not until you."
Heat coiled in Rui's stomach, not from attraction but from frustration, from the sheer arrogance of this man. He hated the way Li Yuan looked at him—like he was something to be unraveled, something to be claimed.
"You may have stolen my kingdom," Rui said, his voice cold, "but you will never have me."
Li Yuan tilted his head, his gaze burning. "Then fight me, Rui of Yue. Fight me with everything you have."
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "But be warned—there is more than one way to conquer."
Rui's heart pounded as Li Yuan turned, exiting the room without another word. The doors shut behind him, leaving Rui alone in a cage woven of silk and gold.
He exhaled shakily. He would fight. He would resist.
But deep in his bones, he knew the war was far from over.
It had only just begun.