The Emperor's Chambers – A Deal Between Rivals
The parchment in Ruyi's hands felt heavier than it should have.
She had expected dominance, expected the emperor to claim his rights as husband, as ruler.
Instead, he had given her a choice.
A contract.
A document that stated he would not demand an heir. That he would not touch her unless she willed it. That he would keep her separate from the harem, free from their petty wars.
It was… unexpected.
And because it was unexpected, it was dangerous.
She lifted her emerald gaze, studying him.
Zhao Long stood before her, casual, confident, as if her answer didn't matter.
As if he already knew what it would be.
Arrogant.
Ruyi's lips curled slightly.
She set the scroll down onto the lacquered table with deliberate care.
Then, very slowly, she reached for the porcelain teapot.
Without a word, she poured a second cup of tea.
Lifted it.
And offered it to him.
A gesture of acknowledgment.
A counteroffer.
For the first time that night, Zhao Long hesitated.
Just slightly.
Not enough for the court to see.
Not enough for a general to notice.
But Ruyi noticed.
Her smirk deepened.
He had not expected this.
And that—that pleased her.
Zhao Long exhaled a slow, amused chuckle.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he took the cup from her hands.
Their fingers brushed, just briefly.
Not an accident.
Not a mistake.
A warning.
A promise.
Zhao Long lifted the cup to his lips and drank.
And Ruyi?
She watched.
Watched as his throat moved with each swallow. Watched as the candlelight cast golden shadows across his sharp jawline.
And when he set the cup down, she finally spoke.
"The contract is… generous, Your Majesty."
Zhao Long's smirk deepened. "Flattery does not suit you, Princess."
She ignored that.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly, letting her long chestnut hair spill over one shoulder, watching him with a gaze just a little too amused.
"There is one issue, however."
Zhao Long raised a brow.
"Oh?"
She lifted the parchment, tapping her fingers against the last line.
Never betray him.
"I will not betray you, Your Majesty," she murmured, her voice silk and steel. "But I expect the same in return."
Zhao Long's golden gaze sharpened.
Silence stretched.
Then, to her surprise, he laughed.
Not a chuckle.
A real, deep, amused laugh.
Oh, how the court would be terrified to hear that sound.
Zhao Long shook his head, taking the parchment back.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted a brush and added a single line beneath hers.
The emperor shall not betray the empress.
He set the brush down.
Looked at her.
And smirked.
"Do you know what you've just done, little storm?" he murmured.
Ruyi arched a brow.
"You have made yourself my equal."
A dangerous, dangerous thing.
But neither of them backed down.
Neither of them regretted it.
And so, just like that, the contract was sealed.
The war between them had officially begun.
The Imperial Court – A Clash Of Power
The next morning, the court convened in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
It was Ruyi's first day standing at the emperor's side.
And already, the tension was thick enough to cut.
The ministers sat in neat, orderly rows, their crimson and black robes flowing over the marble floors as they waited.
Some were curious.
Most were furious.
And at the head of them all, standing beside the emperor's golden throne, was Grand Chancellor Wei (魏丞相).
An old man with sharp, watchful eyes, a voice like dripping ink, slow and heavy with weight.
He bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty," he intoned, his voice lined with carefully masked disdain.
"We congratulate you on your union. May your consort bring you many sons."
A calculated move.
Ruyi knew what he was doing.
By reducing her to her womb, he was challenging her power.
Saying, without words:
You are only valuable if you bear the emperor a son.
The other ministers murmured in agreement.
Zhao Long said nothing.
Did nothing.
He simply leaned back in his throne, waiting.
Watching.
And Ruyi?
She smiled.
Not demure.
Not sweet.
Slow. Knowing.
Then, before the entire court, she turned slightly toward Zhao Long
And reached for his tea.
Lifted the porcelain cup from his table.
And drank.
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence.
One of the ministers choked on his own breath.
Han Zixuan, standing at the side of the hall, pressed a fist against his mouth, barely restraining his laughter.
Even Zhao Long who had expected her to do something reckless
Had not expected this.
His golden gaze locked onto her.
And when she finally lowered the cup, setting it gently back onto the table, she turned to the chancellor and smiled.
"Many sons will bring the empire prosperity, Chancellor."
She tilted her head slightly.
"But tea will keep the emperor alive long enough to raise them."
Zhao Long let out a slow, deep exhale.
Oh, gods.
He wanted her.
Right there.
Right then.
Right in front of the entire damned court.
But instead, he chuckled.
"Wise words, my wife," he murmured, his voice like dark honey.
The court froze.
My wife.
Not consort.
Not imperial concubine.
Wife.
A title too close to empress.
And just like that, the balance of power shifted.
Ruyi had just declared her place.
And Zhao Long had let her.
The war had only just begun.
But already, Ruyi had won the first battle.
The Harem Prepares Its First Strike
Far from the grand hall, in the Jade Phoenix Pavilion, the imperial concubines sat in a circle of silk and secrets.
At the center, Consort Mei sat poised, flawless, her fingers curled around a porcelain cup, her grip too tight.
"She is dangerous," one of the women whispered.
"She is reckless," another muttered.
Mei set her cup down, tracing the rim with a single, elegant finger.
"No."
Her dark eyes glinted.
"She is clever."
A soft pause.
And then, she smiled.
"But she has made a mistake."
The concubines leaned in.
Mei tilted her head.
"She has captured the emperor's attention."
Her smile sharpened.
"That means, soon enough… she will lose it."
The harem laughed.
A storm was brewing.
And Lin Ruyi was at the center of it.
The Emperor's Obsession
Zhao Long was restless.
Hours after court had been dismissed, after the ministers had slunk back to their quarters and the harem women had scattered like birds, he was still thinking about her.
His wife.
His match.
His most dangerous distraction.
He sat in the royal study, the dim candlelight flickering against the towering shelves of ancient texts and war records. Scrolls lay open before him, maps of distant provinces, battle reports things that usually held his full attention.
But tonight?
All he could think about was Lin Ruyi.
The way she had lifted his cup, drank from it without hesitation.
The way she had smiled at Grand Chancellor Wei, as if she had already won a battle he did not even know had begun.
The way she had stood beside him not beneath him.
Zhao Long exhaled slowly, fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair.
She was testing him.
And damn him… but he liked it.
The Wife Who Would Not Obey
Ruyi had no intention of playing a passive role.
She had been in the palace for less than two days, and already, the harem was sharpening their claws.
That was fine.
She had not survived the desert winds of Xiyu, the cutthroat negotiations of kings, the silent wars of courts just to be outmaneuvered by jealous concubines.
She would play this game.
And she would win.
But first, she had a more pressing concern.
She was hungry.
The wedding banquet had been extravagant, filled with delicate lotus dumplings and jade-green wine, but she had barely eaten. The court had been watching her too closely, waiting for a mistake.
Now, in the quiet of the Moonlight Courtyard, Ruyi stepped out of her chambers, barefoot, dressed in a simple silk robe.
The air was cool, scented with night-blooming jasmine.
And, more importantly the imperial kitchens were still open.
If she was going to survive this place, she needed two things.
Food.
And a plan.
The Emperor Finds His Wife in the Most Unlikely Place
Zhao Long had not intended to seek her out.
Or so he told himself.
Yet somehow, his steps led him away from the study, down the quiet halls of the palace, until he found himself in the last place he expected to be.
The imperial kitchens.
The sight before him was so unexpected that he actually paused at the entrance, leaning against the carved wooden doorway.
Lin Ruyi, the woman who had just shaken the entire court, the woman who had stolen his cup in front of his ministers, the woman who had walked into their wedding as if marching to war
Was making dumplings.
Her sleeves were rolled up, exposing slender wrists, delicate yet strong. A few strands of her chestnut hair had come loose, framing her face as she worked the dough, her movements fluid, practiced, effortless.
And she had not noticed him yet.
He should have announced himself.
Should have made his presence known, demanded an explanation.
But instead…
He watched.
Watched as she dipped her fingers into a bowl of flour, kneading the soft dough, her brows furrowed in quiet concentration.
Watched as she brought a bit of filling to her lips, tasting it, pursing her lips slightly in thought.
Watched as she… hummed.
A soft, absentminded tune.
And for the first time since she had arrived in his palace, Zhao Long saw her not as a warrior, not as a consort, not as a queen in waiting
But simply as a woman.
A beautiful, infuriating, captivating woman.
And that…
That was more dangerous than anything else.
A Midnight Conversation of Fire and Silk
Ruyi felt his presence before she saw him.
The weight of his gaze, intense, deliberate.
She did not startle.
Did not flinch.
She simply finished folding the last dumpling, wiped her hands against a cloth, and finally finallyturned to face him.
The emperor stood in the doorway, watching her with an expression she could not quite name.
His black robe was loose at the collar, his hair slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it too many times.
Golden eyes glinting with something unreadable.
Ruyi lifted a single brow.
"Your Majesty."
Zhao Long's lips curved slightly.
"Princess."
A pause.
Then, he glanced at the dumplings.
"You cook."
She tilted her head. "You sound surprised."
"I am." His gaze flickered back to her. "I did not think you had time for such things."
Ruyi smirked. "You assume too much."
Zhao Long exhaled a quiet chuckle, stepping into the room, the space between them shrinking.
"You surprise me often, Princess."
He was close now.
Too close.
Close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint traces of sandalwood and steel.
Ruyi refused to step back.
Instead, she lifted a dumpling, inspecting it.
"Would you like to try one, Your Majesty?"
Zhao Long's brow arched.
"I was under the impression that imperial consorts preferred to be fed. Not to do the feeding."
Ruyi's lips curved.
"Then you assume wrong. Again."
Zhao Long chuckled.
And then without breaking eye contact he reached out.
Took the dumpling from her fingers.
And ate it.
The air thickened.
He chewed slowly, deliberately.
Then, finally, he exhaled a low hum of approval.
"Not bad."
Ruyi rolled her eyes. "Only 'not bad'? I should have put more spice."
Zhao Long smirked, golden eyes gleaming.
"You already have."
Silence.
A beat too long.
A breath too deep.
Then before she could react Zhao Long leaned in, voice a whisper against her skin.
"You intrigue me, little storm."
Ruyi felt the heat of him, the quiet challenge in his voice.
But she did not look away.
Instead, she smirked.
"Good," she murmured, voice smooth as silk.
She lifted another dumpling.
And bit into it.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Zhao Long's jaw tightened.
Ah.
So she wanted to play?
Very well.
His golden gaze burned.
"Careful, Princess," he murmured, his voice low, a warning wrapped in silk.
Ruyi licked a stray drop of sauce from her lip, her emerald gaze shining with amusement.
"Or what, Your Majesty?"
A beat of silence.
Zhao Long tilted his head, a slow, dangerous smirk curling at the edges of his mouth.
"You'll find out soon enough."
The challenge was set.
And neither of them intended to lose.
Zhao Long was a man of discipline.
He had spent his life building an empire, leading armies, outmaneuvering enemies. He prided himself on his ability to command, control, and conquer.
Yet, in the span of a single night, his new wife had managed to unsettle him.
It was not her beauty. Beauty, he had seen before flawless, practiced, empty.
But Ruyi was something else entirely.
She did not try to impress him.
She did not try to please him.
She did not try to win him.
And that was precisely why he could not stop thinking about her.
The Emperor Seeks Out His Wife
For the next few days, Zhao Long found himself noticing things he shouldn't.
The way she moved through the palace graceful yet unhurried, as if she had been born into these halls rather than thrown into them.
The way she spoke in court, her words measured, careful, yet sharp enough to draw blood.
The way she tilted her head just slightly whenever she smirked at him, as if she knew something he did not.
It was maddening.
And yet, he did not stop watching.
Did not stop seeking her out.
Not that he would admit it.
Even to himself.
The Harem Watches – And PlotsWithin the Jade Phoenix Pavilion,
the harem women gathered in silk-draped whispers.
Ruyi had not even been in the palace a full week, and already, she had done the unthinkable.
She had captured the emperor's attention.
She had made him look.
And worse she had made him linger.
Consort Mei sat at the head of the gathering, her fingers tapping against the armrest of her gilded chaise, her face a mask of calm, calculated elegance.
A younger concubine, soft-spoken and cautious, finally broke the silence.
"He… he visits her palace often."
"He watches her."
"He–" The girl hesitated. "He laughs when she speaks."
A tense pause.
And then, slowly, Consort Mei smiled.
"Good."
The concubines exchanged uncertain glances.
"Good?" one of them echoed. "But, Mei-jie, if she gains the emperor's favor"
Mei lifted a single hand, silencing her.
"She is clever," she murmured. "I will give her that."
She lifted her porcelain teacup, admiring the way the steam curled in the air.
"But men are predictable."
Her lips curved.
And when she spoke again, her voice was sweet as honey
And just as poisonous.
"The brighter the flame, the faster it burns."
She took a slow sip of tea.
"Let him be obsessed with her."
Her dark eyes gleamed.
"And then we will watch him tire of her."
The women nodded in agreement, reassured.
But deep down, Mei was not reassured at all.
Because she had seen the way Zhao Long looked at Lin Ruyi.
And it was not the way a man looked at a passing amusement.
It was the way a man looked at something he could not quite control.
And that—that was dangerous.
The Emperor Loses His Patience
That night, Zhao Long found himself in his private study, seated before a table strewn with unfinished scrolls.
Yet, despite the towering stacks of royal decrees, military reports, and diplomatic petitions, his mind was elsewhere.
With her.
He exhaled, long and slow, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
Ridiculous.
He was a ruler. An emperor. A man who had led armies, conquered lands, built a legacy of blood and fire.
He did not chase women.
Women came to him.
And yet, here he was, pacing the length of his study like a damned boy at his first festival.
Enough.
He pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet.
If she would not come to him, he would go to her.
A Late-Night Visitor
Ruyi had not expected a visitor.
She had spent the evening in her private courtyard, beneath the glow of paper lanterns, a book balanced in her lap.
The scent of jasmine and fresh ink lingered in the warm night air.
It was peaceful.
Until
A deep voice broke the quiet.
"Still awake, little storm?"
Ruyi did not startle.
She simply turned her head, already knowing who she would see.
And there he was.
Zhao Long stood at the archway of her courtyard, black robes flowing like liquid night, golden eyes gleaming beneath the lantern's glow.
Ruyi blinked, unconcerned.
"You seem restless, Your Majesty."
Zhao Long smirked.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps I was simply curious."
Ruyi lifted a single brow.
"Curious?"
The emperor took a slow step forward, then another.
And then, without invitation, he lowered himself onto the stone bench beside her.
He was close now.
Close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the quiet strength beneath the silk of his robes.
"Tell me," he murmured, voice smooth, teasing.
"Did you steal my tea in court simply to provoke me?"
Ruyi exhaled a quiet laugh.
"So the great Emperor of Tang is still thinking about that?"
Zhao Long's smirk deepened.
"Careful, Princess."
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower.
"You might make me think you enjoy my attention."
Ruyi tilted her head, as if considering.
Then, very slowly, she reached forward
And plucked a single flower petal from the tea tray before them.
She studied it, delicate between her fingers.
And then without looking at him
She let it fall from her grasp, drifting onto the stone floor.
"Attention is like a petal in the wind, Your Majesty."
She smiled, just slightly.
"It never stays in one place for long."
Zhao Long stilled.
Something dark flickered in his golden eyes.
Ah.
She had pushed him.
And for the first time, she wondered…
Had she pushed him too far?
But then to her surprise, Zhao Long only exhaled a quiet chuckle.
Low. Amused.
Dangerous.
He leaned back slightly, stretching one arm over the bench, fingers casually brushing the edge of her sleeve.
"Is that what you think?"
His voice was lower now, slower.
"I wonder, then…"
His fingers traced the fabric of her sleeve, featherlight, just barely touching.
"…How long it will take before you realize…"
He tilted his head, smirk widening.
"…That I am the wind."
Ruyi's pulse skipped.
She parted her lips slightly, words forming on her tongue.
But before she could speak
Zhao Long rose to his feet.
He adjusted his sleeves, as if unbothered, amused.
And then, as he turned to leave, he glanced at her over his shoulder, golden eyes smoldering.
"Sleep well, little storm."
And then he was gone.
Leaving her there, beneath the lantern light, her heart beating just a little too fast.
Damn him.