*Warning: This chapter includes sexual assault.*

  “Darling, I’ll return late. If I’m not back by sunset, you know what to do. Keep yourself and Xian Lian safe.”

  Cao Anke’s voice was calm, but each word carried weight. His gaze swept the house—each shadow, each flicker of light from the lanterns. His senses were sharp, alert to every shift in the air, every faint whisper of movement. He was a merchant to the world, but few merchants carried themselves like this. His steps barely disturbed the ground, and his eyes saw danger before it struck.

  Xiu Yan’s fingers brushed the pendant at her neck, its warmth grounding her. She said nothing but understood the silence between them, the past he’d never fully shared. The long nights he kept, the moments when his gaze turned distant. His hidden life, one she accepted but could never fully grasp.

  He stepped closer, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. His hand steadied against her cheek, but she felt the subtle tension in his grip—a quiet farewell, just in case.

  “Go safely, my husband. I will wait for you,” she said, her voice unwavering.

  Xian Lian’s bright giggle cut through the tension. “Baba! Promise to come back home!”

  Anke crouched, ruffling her hair. “I will, little one. Be good for your mother.”

  “I’m always a good girl!” she beamed, chest-puffing with the certainty only a child could have.

  Anke smiled, but his heart clenched. If only the world could leave her innocence untouched. One last glance, he stepped into the darkening dusk, his figure swallowed by the night.

  The sun had long vanished, leaving slivers of moonlight to filter through the trees. Anke moved with purpose, his breath steady, his mind focused. Yet something was wrong. The silence gnawed at him, a premonition that gripped his gut. The air, too, still felt suffocating.

  His fingers brushed the dagger at his waist—familiar, cold, a steady companion. But it wasn’t enough. Not against what was coming. The weight of his family—his promises—pressed on him, an invisible burden that made every step heavier.

  A shift in the wind.

  A whisper of steel.

  Before his mind could catch up, Anke's body reacted. The first strike came fast, but he ducked just in time, the blade grazing the air where his head had been. The next was quicker, a sharp slice across his side. Each blow wasn't just a fight—it was a reminder of what he stood to lose: his family, his life.

  His dagger flashed in the moonlight, each movement fluid, precise. But his thoughts kept drifting to Xiu Yan, to their daughter. Survival was no longer just about him—it was about them.

  The first assailant staggered back, clutching his throat. Anke barely registered the kill, his mind scattered with memories and unfulfilled promises. More shadows gathered—four now. His breath was steady, his muscles were screaming, and he fought through the pain. But it was Xiu Yan he feared for, and he couldn’t stop.

  One attacker lunged. Anke sidestepped, twisting the man’s wrist with a sharp crack, sending the sword flying. A quick thrust of his dagger silenced him. Another came, spear aimed for his ribs. Anke spun, kicking the man to the ground. His movements were automatic, the fight blurring together as his body grew heavier.

  A third assailant charged, but Anke was faster. His dagger flew, embedding deep into the man's throat. One remained.

  This one didn’t charge. His cold eyes studied Anke, calculating.

  Anke’s grip tightened. His heart raced, not from the fight, but from the fear of what would happen if he lost. The stranger’s voice cut through the air.

  “You’re not a merchant.”

  Anke stayed silent, his mind consumed with his promise to protect Xiu Yan. The stranger’s predatory gleam didn’t go unnoticed.

  “I’m looking for someone. The Crown Princess.”

  The words hit Anke like a blow to the chest. His blood turned to ice.

  The stranger smirked dark satisfaction in his expression. “Where is she?”

  Anke’s silence felt like a betrayal, but revealing the truth could cost him everything. It wasn’t just his life—it was hers, their daughter’s.

  The stranger’s patience thinned. “Zhang Lei Hong wants you gone,” he said, raising his sword. “Let’s finish this.”

  The attack came without warning. Anke parried the first blow, steel ringing in his ears. His limbs were slower now, breaths quick and ragged. Memories of Xiu Yan and their daughter filled his thoughts.

  Another strike. The blade grazed his ribs, pain flaring, but the worst ache was the thought of leaving them behind.

  Xiu Yan... Her face, her warmth. Anke clung to the memory, but his strength was fading. His grip slipped, his knees buckling under him.

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  A boot pressed into his chest, forcing him down. The assassin's blade hovered above him, gleaming cold in the dim light.

  "You don’t deserve her," the man hissed. "If she bore any of your children, I’ll make sure they die with you."

  Anke’s hand jerked toward the dagger he had dropped, but his limbs were slow, heavy, and unresponsive. Darkness crept in around him, suffocating. In the haze of his fading consciousness, one image pierced through the fog—Xiu Yan’s face, soft with love, as she whispered, “I will wait for you.”

  The assassin’s blade descended.

  Time stretched. The cold steel sank into his flesh, and yet, in that final moment, Anke’s thoughts weren’t on the pain or death. They were of her—the life they would never share. The world around him dimmed, and silence swallowed him whole.

  Xiu Yan stood by the window, her chest tight, an uneasy feeling settling over her. The night felt wrong—unnatural. Her gaze drifted to the hidden safe room where Xian Lian slept, and the silence pressed down on her like an invisible weight. A quiet prayer for Anke’s safety slipped from her lips, but something twisted inside her. The calm in the air felt like the world holding its breath before a storm.

  The hairs on her neck prickled. A creeping chill crawled up her spine, suffocating in its stillness. Outside, the wind rustled faintly—hollow, distant. Her pulse quickened, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach. Something was wrong.

  Then it came—a tap, too soft, too precise. A whisper of movement from the roof, carrying the weight of imminent danger. A cold, bone-deep chill settled deep within her. Instinctively, she stepped back, her breath catching in her throat. Every muscle screamed to run, but there was nowhere to hide.

  With trembling legs, she moved toward the master room, each step slow, as though the ground beneath her feet were shifting. Her hand found the hilt of her sword, grounding her, though it did little to ease the fear gnawing at her. Every creak of the floorboards seemed too loud in the suffocating silence.

  Then the door crashed open.

  A shadow filled the doorway, tall and menacing. The moment he appeared, her body froze—every instinct screamed—the assassin from Joseon.

  He moved with terrifying speed, a blur of lethal intent. She barely had time to react before he was on her, disarming her with brutal efficiency. His grip on her wrists was like iron, suffocating, rendering her powerless. Panic surged in her chest as she struggled, but it was as if she were fighting against a stone wall. Her breath came in shallow gasps, the fear rising in her throat like bile, yet she fought with everything she had, even as the terror continued to crawl up her spine.

  "Let me go!" Xiu Yan gasped, desperation seeping into her voice. But his grip tightened, unyielding.

  Hyun Yeol slowly removed his mask, revealing his face. The shock hit her like a blow. Yi Hyun Yeol. The King of Joseon.

  Her breath hitched. "Your Majesty..." The name "Hae-ju" surfaced like a ghost—sharp and bitter. She had escaped that life, but now it loomed before her, a trap closing in.

  A twisted smile curled on his lips. "You remember me. Good. You were never his. I’ve come to rescue you."

  "Where is my husband?" Her voice trembled, but the question anchored her in the storm.

  His smile faltered, and the darkness in his eyes deepened. His grip tightened, pain shooting through her wrists.

  “What husband?” His voice dropped to a low growl, each word drenched in possession. "You’re mine. Always have been."

  His words sank deep, like poison, spreading through her veins. Hyun Yeol’s eyes burned with obsessive certainty. Her escape, her marriage—he dismissed them as temporary mistakes. She would be his. Her body, her heart—he would have them both.

  "You’ll never be his," he hissed, his voice cold, a promise. "Only I can make you whole."

  Xiu Yan’s chest tightened, and she fought back the rush of fury. "Leave me alone!" she spat, but his presence crushed her resolve, stifling her will to resist.

  Hyun Yeol loosened his grip, just enough to twist her body. His fingers brushed her neck, cold as death itself.

  “Remember when we almost...” His voice lowered, cruel and nostalgic. “Before your brother-in-law stopped us? We could’ve been happy together."

  The memories clawed at her, suffocating her. She tried to shove them away, but they dragged her back to a past she had buried. Trapped. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

  “Let go…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  “You’ll carry my children now,” he declared, his voice thick with malice. "No one else will touch you."

  His words shattered her. To him, she was a prize to be claimed, an object, nothing more.

  An hour later, Hyun Yeol stood with detached satisfaction, adjusting his robes. His gaze lingered on Xiu Yan, motionless on the bed. She was a thing to be admired but not truly seen.

  “You’re still beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers brushing her exposed thigh, icy like death. "If you carried his child, I'd make sure it dies with him. But you’ll give me heirs. You belong to me."

  The air grew heavy with his words, suffocating her even in silence.

  The weight of his words suffocated the room. His touch was deliberate, possessive, like an unspoken promise etched into her skin.

  Then, a shallow breath drew her back from the brink. Fury, long buried, ignited in her chest—hot and fierce. Her eyes snapped open, burning with defiance.

  "Die, monster!" she screamed, her voice raw with rage. Her hand shot for the sword she’d dropped. Every ounce of strength poured into her strike. She couldn’t let him win—not now, not after everything.

  But Hyun Yeol was faster, evading with eerie grace. She lunged again, wild, but her strike faltered. The energy drained from her, leaving her weak.

  Her hand found the dagger in his belt. She gripped it, slick with sweat, its cold promise of death like a spark in her veins. She aimed for his heart, but Hyun Yeol deflected it easily, the blade grazing his side. A shallow wound, but it jolted through him. It should have been nothing. But for Xiu Yan, the truth of how far she had fallen hit harder than any blow.

  Her vision blurred, the world tilting. Strength left her, blood draining from her face as she collapsed. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the dagger slipping from her fingers with a soft clatter. She fell to the cold floor, her body heavy and lifeless.

  The silence was suffocating. Hyun Yeol stood frozen, staring at her still form as her pulse slowed, then stopped. For the first time, the iron grip of his obsession faltered, just for a breath.

  “Hae-ju…” His voice cracked, barely a whisper. He knelt beside her, hands hovering uncertainly over her cold body. “Why?”

  Her eyes met his, glassy and lifeless, speaking in their stillness. With her final breath, she whispered, “You’ll never have me… not in this life… or the next…”

  The words cut deeper than any blade—final, defiant. She had chosen to slip from his reach, not just in this life, but forever.

  Hyun Yeol cradled her body, his heart splintering with grief he had never allowed himself to feel. "No…" The word escaped him, a broken plea. His hands trembled as they touched her cold skin. Tears, bitter and foreign, slid down his cheeks. He couldn’t understand—he had finally reclaimed her, but it was too late.

  Her body lay cold in his arms. The world, once full of obsession, now seemed dark and hollow. For the first time, Hyun Yeol felt truly lost.

  "I promise I’ll be good to you... I swear it..." But Xiu Yan didn’t answer. She was gone, and Hyun Yeol was left alone, trembling, his world shattered by the very grief he had never allowed himself to feel.