Ling Xiao returned to his hometown with illustrious military achievements, only to hear rumors that his restless sister-in-law had conspired with an outsider to mu*der his long-ill elder brother.

He watched as she knelt before the coffin, clad in plain white mourning robes, her slender frame as delicate as a willow, her brows like distant mountains, weeping so pitifully it could move anyone’s heart.

With a sharp sword, he lifted her fragile chin, his killing intent flaring: “A bewitching beauty brings ruin—you deserve death!”

—

Later, she proved her innocence, yet he still despised her, for his brother had died because of her.

He warned her, “Rein in your seductive ways. If you dare stray from your widow’s duties and fail to remain chaste for my brother, I will kill you all the same.”

—

Later still, she fled at the sight of him, trembling at his every word, avoiding him like a venomous snake.

Yet in the dead of night, he pinned her against the wall, his rough fingers greedily caressing her face: “Why won’t you seduce me?”

—

Love is surrendering to fate, drawing a prison around oneself, kneeling in submission.

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