Fire rushes to the sky.

The sound of heart-wrenching cries echoed in my ears, and the ground was littered with broken bodies. The remnants of buildings lay scattered everywhere, a testament to the shattered landscape.

The air was thick with a pungent, nauseating stench.

"Xi Xi, Xi Xi, Xi Xi…"

Who is it, whispering your name affectionately in your ear?

Internal organs feel dull and aching, meridians are severed as if cut in pieces, a excruciating pain like being flayed alive, slowly subsides within this warm voice.

"Xi Xi, Xi Xi, Xi Xi…"

The voice grew fainter and farther away, until it vanished. "Rongyu!"

Nang Xi abruptly sat up, her forehead covered in cold sweat, her eyes filled with fear.

The person, usually calm and collected to the point of indifference, was now breathing with an uncontrollable quickness.

"Having a nightmare?" The voice, noble and cold, sounded, carrying a hint of smoke-free breath. Like a cool breeze on a scorching summer day, it unexpectedly brushed past Nan Xi's ears.

Nang Xi was stunned, turning her head to meet a pair of indifferent eyes that held a certain... something. Her thoughts were still muddled, unable to differentiate between reality and dream.

His icy gaze locked onto the handsome man before him, leaving Nan Xi's mind a blank. All she could register was the lingering scent of sandalwood that filled her nostrils, each wisp seeming to etch itself into her bones, clinging to her relentlessly.

Nang Xi gently closed her eyes, greedily inhaling deeply the scent that had made her want to escape countless times before.

Then slowly, he blinked again. His eyes gradually regained their clarity, and he could see this man's face more clearly.

This is a face that is as stunning as a fleeting glimpse, breathtakingly beautiful.

Like a snow lotus, pure and cold; like a cloud crane, noble and graceful; like a blue dragon, lofty and unattainable; like...a Rakshasa, cruel and merciless.

Many flattering words were used to describe him, all related to his appearance.

Many adjectives describing him with awe stem entirely from his achievements and power.

His courtesy name was one that no one in all of the Zhou dynasty dared to utter out of respect.

Rongyu.

The surname is Rong. Rong Yu is the current emperor's youngest uncle. The Zhou Dynasty's powerful regent and generalissimo, he holds both military and political power.

The two characters "Rong Yu" represent a thousand pounds of weight, representing the ultimate elegance, dignity and strength.

He was just such a person, just such a person, but in the end...he died so tragically.

Nang Xi's jaw clenched, her face pale as a wave of dull pain washed over her.

It's all because.

"My presence, does it truly trouble you so?" Rong Yu looked at the pale face, his usually calm eyes now seemed to hold a brewing storm, yet his voice remained unnervingly placid.

Nan Xi was startled again and subconsciously raised her eyes to look at him.

The panic in his clear eyes hadn't faded yet, and it was reflected in Rong Yu's gaze. The man's thin jaw tightened, a trace of bitterness appearing on his elegant and noble face. He closed his eyes, then resolutely turned away.

"Rong Yu," Nan Xi spoke, her voice slightly hoarse, but without any fluctuations, "I have something to tell you."

Perhaps even he himself wouldn't believe it, to have calmed down so quickly in such a short amount of time.

Have something to say?

What are you saying?

She said she would never like him, and that as long as she could breathe, she would find a way to leave this place.

Or would you rather die than have to look at his disgusting face?

Rong Yu grasped his hand, voice strained: "This king doesn't want to hear it."

"You must listen." Nán Xī's voice was calm and flat, yet there was a hint of force. "If you don't listen, I will write you a divorce letter."