Lying upon her bed, Lady Lian stared at the ceiling as the early morning light spilled gently into her chambers. The air still carried traces of the previous night's storm, and the memory of that brief yet intense encounter lingered heavily in her mind.
The icy steadiness in that slave's eyes throughout the entire ordeal refused to fade. His calm, unwavering gaze, even as he claimed absolute victory over a stronger opponent, clung stubbornly to her thoughts. What she had witnessed had not been the struggle of a desperate man.
It had been the bearing of a hero.
Even when she offered to send a physician to tend to his wounds, he had merely replied, "Do not trouble yourself over a few scratches."
"How can a hero be a slave…" she murmured softly.
Her slender hand slipped beneath the sheets, gliding past the folds of her garment and sliding beneath her underclothes. At the faintest touch, she felt the damp warmth waiting for her fingers.
"Just thinking of you does this to me… How much more thrilling would it be to have you between my thighs…"
Her breath grew shallow. One hand drifted upward, teasing the sensitive peaks of her chest, while the other moved slowly and deliberately against the soaked fabric. Her hips began to sway, following the rhythm set by her wandering fingers.
Her legs parted gradually, unfolding like petals at dawn. Her head tilted back as she brushed aside the barrier of cloth and allowed a finger to slip inside herself. It moved faster, deeper, drawing soft, uneven breaths from her parted lips.
She pressed a hand over her mouth, stifling the sounds threatening to escape. The maids lingered just beyond her doors. She could not allow her hunger to betray her.
She tossed upon the sheets, legs lifted and spread, her body writhing in restrained abandon as her fingers continued their relentless pace.
And while she whispered Si's name into the quiet of her chamber, muffling her soft cries against her palm, Yan Cheng stood guard outside her doors, his eyes burning with murderous intent.
He longed to storm out and challenge Si again, to reclaim the honor that had been stripped from him. Yet Lady Lian had crushed that thought without hesitation. A public duel would invite questions, and questions would inevitably lead back to her.
He was forbidden from touching Si unless it could be done without implicating her.
But how?
Yan Cheng would trade anything for another chance. To cleanse his disgrace, to restore his honor, and to secure his lady once more. If he lost her favor now, he would likely be conscripted and sent to the front lines against Jinshan under the Bi family banner.
Lady Lian's affection was the only shield standing between him and the mass graves Si so casually tended. He could not allow himself to fall to such a fate.
Suddenly, a thought flickered across his darkened mind. Si had mentioned he would soon join the military. If needed, Lady Lian could easily locate him there. Yan Cheng had acquaintances within the army, men who tolerated him only because of the benefits they extracted from Lady Lian through him.
"Big brothers… it is time you repay my kindness," he muttered, a quiet, malicious giggle slipping from his lips.
Meanwhile, in an abandoned storage room within the Bi family estate, Si sat as still as stone while Bao carefully cleaned his wounds with a damp cloth Lady Lian had left behind.
Bao still struggled to process everything that had occurred the night before. Si, however, showed no inclination to speak of it, not while his body remained lined with cuts and streaked with drying blood.
"You are fortunate the wounds are shallow. You must never involve yourself with that man again."
Bao's chest burned with anger as he examined the injuries Si had sustained protecting him. Though the cuts were superficial, they were numerous, and they would scar.
Then another thought crept into his mind.
Weren't scars symbols of valor? Proof of courage? A silent testimony carved into flesh? Stories of bravery could be admired, but scars etched upon the body could not be denied.
His anger faded.
Envy took its place.
"Do not show these to any woman before I have some of my own," Bao said with rare seriousness. "We are sworn brothers. We must find our wives and marry on the same day. Do you understand?"
Si could no longer restrain himself. Laughter burst from him, rich and unguarded.
Bao truly was the only man capable of worrying about such absurdities in the midst of danger. Had this fool stood beside him through the past two centuries, perhaps those long years would not have felt so hollow.
Bao, in turn, felt a wave of relief upon hearing Si laugh. It had been six months since that strange transformation, and this was the first time he had heard genuine mirth from him.
When the laughter faded, Bao finally gave voice to the concern weighing heavily on his mind.
"You know Yan Cheng will not let this go."
Yan Cheng was infamous for his cruelty toward slaves, especially when he believed someone had offended Lady Lian. The venom in his words the night before revealed just how deeply he despised their kind. Now that he had been humiliated by one, he would not let it rest.
"He will be dead soon. Do not concern yourself with it," Si replied with a casual shrug.
There were few in this world capable of threatening him.
Yan Cheng was not among them.
If the fool sought him through schemes, it would only hasten his own demise. And even if he did nothing, Si would eventually seek him out.
Like Yan Cheng, he believed the other needed to die. The difference lay in purpose. Yan Cheng desired his death out of wounded pride. Si required Yan Cheng's death to serve a greater end. Either way, the stagnant days were over.
In one week, he would apply to join the Bi family military. And on that day, his true life would begin.
Si closed his eyes and released a slow, measured breath. Though his outward demeanor remained composed, a fierce current of anticipation surged beneath the surface. The mere thought of stepping onto the battlefield once more stirred something primal within him.
For a true general, there was no greater calling than the clash of armies and the thunder of war.
And now, at long last, he stood on the threshold of making that desire a reality.