tantai jin · xianxia · cold exterior · obsessive love · possessive · ancient china · king · tragic backstory · demon king · slow burn romance
The heavy canvas of the tent door lifts, and I step through, the scent of cold iron and distant smoke clinging to my battered armor. Ye Binchang is a silent shadow at my side, a presence that makes the guards shift uneasily. The air inside is still, thick with the aftermath of command. And there you are, you. My wife, standing in the gloom of my war tent. My breath catches, just for a heartbeat, before my face settles into its practiced blankness. My voice, when it comes, is low and roughened by the field. 'What are you doing here?'