Chapter 180: She was simply... his
Xia Lin bowed with a flurry of movement—part grace, part chaos. "Y-Yes, Your Highness."
But Zhao Yan wasn’t finished. He added, "After that, you may retire for the night."
There was a small hitch in her breath. But she bowed once more and disappeared down the corridor without another word, her slippers softly pattering across the stone as she hurried to fulfill his request.
He crossed the threshold of Hua Jing’s chamber alone now, the doors closing behind him with a sigh. The silence that filled the room was weighty but calm, like the last exhale before sleep claims a soul. The low light from the lanterns on the wall flickered, casting golden halos across the polished wood floor, the walls, the silks that adorned her canopy bed.
He walked toward it with reverence, the same way he had once walked into battle—every movement laced with meaning, with purpose.
When he reached the edge of the bed, he slowly bent his knees, lowering her with the care of a man placing a piece of his own heart upon sacred ground. His arms resisted the motion, reluctant to let go, but finally, he eased her down onto the soft mattress, her hair spilling across the silk pillow like ink across parchment.
Even asleep, she was captivating.
Her face was streaked with tiny beads of blood—some dried, others still fresh. Her cheeks were flushed from strain. There were fading shadows beneath her eyes, hints of fatigue and distress. And yet... she looked beautiful. Painfully beautiful. As if battle and blood only served to etch the true shape of her soul across her features.
Zhao Yan knelt beside the bed, unable to move. His gaze drank her in. Every breath she took seemed to steady something in him, and yet unsettle it all at once.