*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 steady, but the subtle urgency in his words didn’t escape Xiu Yan. His sharp eyes scanned every corner of their home, taking in the stillness, sensing the faintest trace of danger. To the world, he was just another Ming merchant. But beneath the calm fa?ade lay a deadly edge—one honed by years of survival.
He preferred to travel under the cover of night. Darkness offered him anonymity, a shield against the eyes that might recognize him. Fewer eyes meant fewer questions, and fewer questions meant fewer risks. Trust was a luxury he could not afford, not when danger was always lurking.
As he stood at the threshold, a moment of hesitation gripped him. His gaze landed on Xiu Yan—his rock, his constant, the woman who had anchored him through every storm. His love for her was quiet, steadfast, woven into the very fabric of their life. She, and their daughter—his little Xian Lian—were the light that softened the hardness of his world.
Xiu Yan stood by the window, her fingers idly brushing the pendant that hung from her neck, the familiar warmth of its weight a silent comfort. The serpent engraved on the pendant, winding around a crown, had always been a reminder of the delicate balance they lived in. She gave it a soft, affectionate touch before letting her fingers fall, her gaze meeting his.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, the touch lingering just a fraction longer than usual. No words passed between them, but they both understood the gravity of the moment. This could very well be the last time he saw her—saw them.
Xiu Yan met his gaze, her face unreadable, a mask of strength, but her breath betrayed her—faint tremors in the rise and fall of her chest. "Go safely, my husband. I’ll wait for you," she said, her voice firm, though the tremor at its edges revealed her hidden worry.
Anke gave her a sad, yet reassuring smile before turning to their daughter. "Xian Lian," he called softly.
At the sound of her name, the little girl’s laughter filled the room, her bright giggles ringing out with innocence and joy—a stark contrast to the danger that loomed.
"Baba! Promise to come back home!" Xian Lian''s voice was filled with hope, too pure for the cruel world they inhabited. The words struck Anke''s heart like a blade, a painful reminder of everything he stood to lose.
Anke chuckled, brushing his hand through her hair. "I will, little one. Be good for your mother."
"I’m always a good girl!" Xian Lian declared proudly, puffing out her chest with confidence that made his heart ache.
If he could, he would have stayed forever in this moment—the moment when danger seemed a distant thing, and nothing threatened the peace of his family. But the world was never so kind. Duty called.
He kissed Xiu Yan once more, his lips lingering, and in that moment, he wondered—what if this was the last time? The thought gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. There was no room for hesitation now.
With a final glance at his family, Anke turned toward the door. The golden light of the setting sun stretched across the courtyard as he stepped outside, its warmth a fleeting comfort against the cold chill creeping through his bones.
As the sun sank lower, the warmth began to fade. Xiu Yan stood by the window, her fingers lightly resting on the frame. The sky outside was ablaze with orange hues, casting a soft glow across the room, but a heaviness settled in her chest with each passing second.
Something wasn’t right.
The silence of the house, the soft breathing of Xian Lian asleep in her bed, did nothing to ease her growing unease. Instead, it only heightened the gnawing sensation in her gut.
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. The night air carried the faint rustling of leaves, the distant sounds of merchants winding down their day. But beneath it all, there was an unnatural stillness. The kind that made her skin prickle.
Without a word, she scooped Xian Lian into her arms, holding her close against her chest. She moved quickly, silently, to the hidden safe room—the one they hoped they would never have to use. She tucked a worn necklace—an heirloom from long ago—beside her daughter before sealing the door with practiced hands. Her fingers trembled as she locked it.
The pendant, the serpent that had once symbolized power, now seemed to carry the weight of an impending fate. She ran her thumb across the carving, wishing it could shield them from what might come.
If the worst came, she had to be ready. She wouldn’t fail them.
The wind picked up, whispering through the trees. The night deepened, its shadow stretching across their home.
Anke’s footsteps were light but purposeful, his boots soft against the dirt path. The last traces of daylight had vanished, leaving only the pale moonlight to guide him. The air was still, but every instinct screamed that something was wrong.
A rustle in the brush.
He stopped. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his dagger, the familiar coolness of the serpent’s hilt fitting his fingers perfectly—like the one Xiu Yan wore, the engraving shared by both.
His grip tightened.
The silence pressed in, thick with the promise of danger.
Then, they struck.
Three masked figures emerged from the darkness, their blades gleaming under the moonlight.
Anke’s dagger flashed, a streak of silver cutting through the night as he swiftly took down the first assassin. The second fell just as quickly. But before he could even regain his stance, more figures emerged from the shadows.
And then one stepped forward.
The man’s robes were of fine quality, understated but clearly expensive, his presence commanding. His sword gleamed under the dim light, elegant but deadly.
"So, you’re the one who crossed the border and made things... difficult," Hyun Yeol’s voice was low, his tone edged with restrained fury. His words hung heavy in the air, a threat masked beneath an air of professionalism.
Anke’s eyes narrowed. The man before him had a sharp edge to him, one that made Anke’s instincts flare. He was no stranger to danger, but something about this confrontation felt different.
"You’ve caused me a lot of trouble," Hyun Yeol continued, circling him slowly, his eyes narrowing with purpose. "Zhang Lei Hong doesn''t forget those who complicate his plans, especially when they’re a thorn in the side of something much bigger than they realize."
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Anke’s mind raced. He had suspected Zhang Lei Hong might be behind the growing danger, but hearing Hyun Yeol''s words confirmed it. Zhang Lei Hong—corrupt, ambitious—had no intention of letting him live, no matter how insignificant he had tried to appear.
"You think I care about Ming politics?" Hyun Yeol sneered, his voice cold. "I’m here for her. The Crown Princess. Where is she?" His blade pressed closer, the edge a whisper away from Anke''s throat.
Anke’s lips curled into a bitter smile. This fool didn’t even know. Zhang Lei Hong had sent him for one woman—never mentioning the royal blood Anke carried. A distraction. A decoy. And now Xiu Yan and Xian Lian would pay the price.
"Zhang Lei Hong wanted to be rid of you long ago," Hyun Yeol said, his eyes cold, calculating. "But here you are, still standing in his way. I was sent to make sure that ends tonight."
Anke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, another assassin lunged forward, his blade slashing deep into Anke’s side.
Pain exploded through him, blood soaking his clothes as darkness crept into his vision. He staggered, his knees buckling beneath him.
"Xiu Yan..." The name slipped from his lips, a whispered prayer. His love, his regret, his hope—all of it bound in that single word.
He fell to his knees, the cold earth pressing against him. The assassin loomed over him, his blade poised at Anke’s throat. The finality in his eyes was unmistakable.
"You don’t deserve her," the assassin hissed. "If she bore any of your children, I’ll make sure they die with you."
Pain surged again, but all Anke could think of was Xiu Yan and Xian Lian. What had he left them to face?
The world faded away.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
To the assassins, he was just another casualty—a man caught in the crossfire of power. But his death would not go unanswered. His fall would ignite a fire that neither Zhang Lei Hong nor Joseon could control.
As Xiu Yan stood by the window, a sense of dread gnawed at her, a cold heaviness weighing down her chest. She glanced over at Xian Lian, who slept peacefully in the hidden safe room, and whispered a silent prayer for Anke’s safety. But deep down, she knew. The silence in the air wasn’t peace—it was a harbinger of loss.
Faint, deliberate footsteps crept across the roof, the sound sharp and unsettling. A jolt of fear shot through her, instincts kicking into overdrive. She rushed to the master room, grabbing her sword, but before she could take a stance, the door slammed open. A shadow loomed in the doorway, his presence cold and commanding.
The Joseon assassin moved with terrifying speed, disarming her in a single fluid motion. His gloved hands seized her wrists before she could react, and in the next instant, she was forced onto the bed, her body pinned beneath his.
“Let me go!” Xiu Yan shouted, struggling to break free. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest, but the assassin’s strength was unyielding.
Slowly, the man pulled down his mask, revealing his face. Xiu Yan froze, a chill running down her spine. The world seemed to collapse in on her as recognition hit like a physical blow. It was Yi Hyun Yeol—the King of Joseon, the very man from her past.
Her lips trembled, a breathless whisper escaping her. “Your Majesty…”
In that moment, a forgotten name surfaced in her mind—Hae-ju, the name she had buried when she left Joseon. She had shed that identity, severing herself from the woman she had once been, but now, it lingered like a ghost. Hae-ju was no more; Xiu Yan was born from the ashes of that name.
The world seemed to still. Hyun Yeol’s cold smile stretched across his face, as empty and cruel as ever.
“You remember me,” he said, his voice low and too familiar. “Good. You were never his. You were kidnapped, and I’ve come to rescue you.”
Xiu Yan’s eyes blurred with tears, but she forced them back, pushing the fear and sorrow down as she gathered the strength to speak. “Where is my husband?” Her voice trembled, but she stood her ground, determined despite the overwhelming terror building within her.
For a brief moment, Hyun Yeol’s smile faltered, replaced by a darkness that made her blood run cold. His grip tightened on her wrists, the pain sharp.
“What husband?” His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “You belong to me. You always have.”
Xiu Yan’s heart raced. She tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. This man—the one who had tormented her for so long—stood before her now, tearing apart everything she had fought for.
“You will never be his,” Hyun Yeol continued, his words thick with possessiveness. “I’ve come to reclaim what’s mine.”
Every part of Xiu Yan’s body fought against him, but the man she once knew—her captor, her tormentor—was too strong, too relentless. “Leave me alone, monster!” she spat, her voice full of hatred, but it was no use.
Hyun Yeol released one of her wrists, only to twist her body, locking her in place behind him. The weight of his presence crushed her, dragging her back to the horrors of the past she had fought so hard to bury.
“Remember when we almost… made love?” His voice was cold and mocking, sending shivers of revulsion through her. “Before your brother-in-law stopped us? If he hadn’t interfered, we would have been happy together.”
Xiu Yan went rigid, the memories flooding back in a violent rush. She struggled, but the weight of it all was too much. The man, the pain, the fear—it all came crashing back.
“Let go…” she whispered, barely able to breathe.
“You’ll bear my children now,” Hyun Yeol declared, his tone final, sickening. His hands tugged at her skirts, his touch vile. “No one else will ever touch you. You belong to me.”
Her heart shattered as he continued, every word and every action a brutal reminder of the trauma she had never truly escaped. She could no longer move, no longer fight—she was trapped in the past and the present, drowning in the storm of despair he had created.
An hour later, Hyun Yeol stood in the center of the room, adjusting his robes with practiced precision. He stared down at Xiu Yan, still motionless on the bed. His gaze roamed over her, filled with a disturbing mixture of obsession and something almost like regret. The air in the room was thick with his twisted thoughts, though he remained blissfully unaware of the torment he caused. To him, consequences were an abstract concept, never truly reaching him.
“You’re still so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice possessive, as his hand drifted along her exposed thigh. “If you bore his child, I’ll make sure it dies with him. But you’ll give me heirs. You belong to me now. You always have.”
The words hung in the air, vile and suffocating. His fingers traced along her skin, as though she were a possession to be admired, not a person with her own life and will.
But then, suddenly, Xiu Yan’s eyes snapped open. There was a fire in them—defiance burning through the layers of trauma and fear. With a ferocious scream, she lunged for the sword she had dropped earlier, her body trembling with the last of her strength.
“Die, monster!” she cried, her voice breaking with rage and sorrow as tears streamed down her face. Hyun Yeol barely had time to react. He dodged her strike with the fluidity of a seasoned warrior, moving with a speed born of years of experience.
Before he could regain his footing, Xiu Yan’s hand shot to the dagger at his belt. She yAnked it free and aimed for his heart, the blade glinting in the dim light. Her strike was swift, but Hyun Yeol was faster. With a harsh slash, he deflected the dagger, the blade grazing his side in a quick, shallow wound.
Xiu Yan staggered, her strength fading. Her body crumpled to the floor, the dagger slipping from her fingers. Hyun Yeol stood over her, breathless, as she collapsed, her blood staining the floor beneath her. His eyes locked onto her, but it wasn’t just her body that captivated him—it was his obsession, his twisted claim over her, that consumed him now.
“Hae-ju…” His voice faltered for the first time in years, and for a moment, he knelt beside her, his hands trembling as they hovered over her lifeless form.
Her eyes were glassy, the spark of life extinguished. And yet, Xiu Yan managed a final whisper, her defiance clear even in death.
“You’ll never have me… not in this life… or the next…”
Her words struck him like a blow to the chest, the pain more intense than any wound he had ever felt. He didn’t understand—why was she rejecting him? Why couldn’t she see that he, the King, could give her everything she ever wanted? Yet here she was, slipping from his grasp, just as she always had.
“No… please…” His voice cracked as he cradled her body in his arms, the coldness of her lifeless form sinking into his skin. “Hae-ju, don’t leave me…”
Tears fell from his eyes—tears unlike anything he had ever shed before. They were raw, desperate, filled with an agony he had never allowed himself to feel. “I promise I’ll be good to you… I swear it.”
But Xiu Yan didn’t respond. She was gone. Her body was a lifeless weight in his arms, and the reality of it hit him harder than anything he had ever known.
Hyun Yeol’s wail echoed in the empty room, the anguished cry of a man who had never truly understood loss until it was too late.