---
The letter was short.
Lù Zhāo wrote it with trembling hands and a steady heart.
> "Meet me tomorrow at dusk. There's something I believe you must see. Come alone."
She didn't sign her name with a title, nor mention the address.
Just a time.
Just a place.
And the Prince, despite everything, came.
---
When he arrived at the quiet countryside house, he found the door slightly ajar.
The princess met him at the gate with a serene smile, said nothing, and simply gestured him inside.
"You're early," she said gently. "He's in the back room. You should go speak to him."
He hesitated.
"…Who?"
But she only turned and walked away, sliding the gate shut behind him.
The Prince narrowed his eyes, realizing too late—this was not Lù Zhāo's house.
This was his house.
Shèng Lín's.
---
He opened the door cautiously, stepping into the small room with silent fury building in his chest.
And then—he froze.
The sound of footsteps echoed.
And then—
Shèng Lín stepped out of the bathing chamber.
His hair was damp, skin still glowing with warmth from the steam, a simple black robe tied hastily around his waist. Water droplets still clung to his collarbone.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
Their eyes locked.
The Prince turned immediately. "I'm leaving."
But before he could take a full step—
Shèng Lín grabbed his wrist.
> "Please. Don't."
The Prince stared at him, face dark. "You brought her into this?"
> "No," Shèng Lín said quickly. "She… did this on her own."
> "You think this is a game?"
The Prince yanked his hand away, his voice rising.
> "You think locking me in this room will fix betrayal?"
> "Do you think a single kiss could undo poison?"
Shèng Lín's throat trembled.
> "I don't want to fix it. I just wanted a chance to say sorry—without a sword between us."
His voice broke. "Please."
And then, he leaned forward—
And kissed him.
It wasn't soft.
It wasn't seductive.
It was full of salt and tears and broken things.
> "I never stopped…" Shèng Lín whispered against his lips. "Even when I should've."
The Prince didn't respond.
For a long second, he stood frozen—
And then he grabbed Shèng Lín by the collar and threw him onto the bed.
Shèng Lín gasped, startled, as the Prince climbed on top of him, hovering, his eyes burning.
Their lips met again—this time full of hunger, rage, longing. The Prince pinned both of Shèng Lín's wrists above his head.
He devoured the kiss like a man starved.
When they parted, their breath came heavy.
Their eyes locked—both trembling, both stubborn, both alive.
> "I hate you," the Prince said hoarsely.
> "I know," Shèng Lín whispered, eyes wet.
> "And I want you," the Prince admitted quietly.
> "I know that too."
They didn't kiss again.
They just stared.
For a long, long time.
And in that silence—
They knew something had broken.
And something else had begun again.
---