Chapter 22: The Guest Arrives
The knock was soft. Unhurried. Expected.
Lin Mu's breath caught as the sound echoed through the polished wood of their chamber door. It was barely more than a tap—three measured raps—but it rang louder than thunder in his chest.
He stood from his cushion, palms already damp, and walked to the door with steps that felt both automatic and irreversible.
Sliding it open, he met the gaze of Yan Zhuo.
Dressed in a black inner robe that framed his broad chest, the man carried himself like a guest at his own banquet. Not arrogant—precisely—but assured. His eyes flicked briefly to Lin Mu's face, then just slightly downward, pausing on the subtle tension in Lin Mu's jaw.
"Senior Brother," Yan Zhuo said smoothly, inclining his head. "You said she'd be ready."
Lin Mu swallowed.
"She is."
He stepped aside.
Yan Zhuo entered without hesitation, his sandals silent against the polished stone floor. The scent of warm oil and incense curled through the air—a blend Lin Mu had mixed by hand only an hour earlier. The fragrance clung to the space between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.
And at the heart of the room, Xue Lan waited.