Evening had settled gently over the Ning estate.
The training yard behind Jiang Ning was still warm from the day's exertion, the last echoes of clashing steel fading as torches were lit one by one along the inner paths. The sky above had deepened into a calm indigo, stars just beginning to pierce through the veil of dusk.
Jiang slowed his steps as he left the yard.
For once, he didn't head toward his study or the armory. Instead, his path curved inward, away from the bustle of guards and servants, toward a quieter wing of the estate.
Lina's quarters.
He stopped in front of her door and raised his hand.
Then paused.
A small thing, really. He could've entered freely, he'd done so countless times before, usually to tease her or deliver some trivial message. But tonight, he knocked.
The sound was soft, deliberate.
Inside, there was a muffled shuffle. Then the door swung open sharply.
"I thought you went to train," Lina snapped, words tumbling out in a rush. "Do I not get a moment's peace in my own room-"
She froze.
Her eyes widened as she took him in, still dressed in training clothes, hair damp at the temples.
"M–My lord?" Her cheeks flushed instantly. "I- I'm sorry, I thought it was... I mean, I didn't know it was you."
Jiang blinked, then laughed quietly.
"It's fine," he said, raising both hands in surrender. "I probably deserve that for having you watched all the time."
She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, clearly mortified. "I shouldn't have spoken like that…"
"You should," he replied easily. "If I can't take a little complaining, how will I ever manage married life."
That made her look up at him again, surprised. He leaned slightly against the doorframe, his posture relaxed, unguarded in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.
"I know it can feel… suffocating," he continued, more softly. "Having someone nearby all the time. Not being able to take a step without someone watching."
Her lips pressed together. "…It does feel like that sometimes."
"I figured," Jiang said. "So if you want to complain, I won't stop you."
For a moment, she simply stared at him.
Then, as if deciding something, she reached out, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him inside before he could say another word.
The door closed with a quiet click behind them.
Lina's room was modest but warm, lit by a single lamp on the bedside table. It smelled faintly of clean linen and dried flowers. She released his sleeve and sat on the edge of her bed, then glanced up at him expectantly.
Jiang hesitated only a second before sitting beside her.
He glanced around, then smirked faintly. "You realize how this looks, right?"
She followed his gaze, then flushed again. "I don't care."
The words came out softer than her earlier outburst, but firmer too.
"If people want to talk, let them talk," she added. "They wouldn't be saying anything new anyways."
He studied her profile for a moment, the way she tried to sound brave while her fingers twisted nervously in her lap. Something in his chest loosened.
"Fair enough," he said.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The world outside the room felt distant, muffled by stone walls and quiet.
Eventually, Lina broke the silence.
"My lord…" She hesitated. "You never really explained why Sir Ronan and the others are always so close. I know it's for my protection, but… why now?"
Jiang didn't answer immediately.
He could've brushed it off. Could've given her something vague, reassuring but empty.
Instead, he exhaled slowly.
"I don't trust my uncle," he said.
Her head snapped toward him.
"Lord Qin?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "I suspect he might try to hurt the people I care about. Maybe not directly. Maybe not openly. But I won't take that chance."
Her shoulders stiffened. After a moment, she whispered, "He always gave me the creeps."
Jiang's gaze softened. "You weren't wrong to feel that way."
She went still, then frowned slightly. "You said… the people you care about."
He turned to face her fully.
"Yes."
Her breath caught. "…You mean… love?"
He didn't look away.
"Yes," he said again, just as calmly.
"I'd rather be cautious than regretful," he continued. "And I won't pretend otherwise. You're the only one for me."
For a heartbeat, Lina forgot how to breathe.
Then her face went crimson.
"You, you're being far too bold lately," she stammered, half mortified, half smiling. "Do you know that?"
Jiang chuckled. "I've been told."
She didn't say anything else. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, as if afraid he might vanish if she loosened her grip.
He hesitated only a moment before returning the embrace, one hand resting gently against her back.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Eventually, the tension melted away, replaced by quiet conversation, small things, unimportant things. Lina complained about the stiffness of the new sheets. Jiang joked about Henry's scowl when he left the yard. Their voices grew softer, slower, until fatigue crept in unnoticed.
At some point, they lay back against the bed without ceremony, side by side, fully clothed. The lamp burned low.
Sleep came easily.
Jiang didn't know how long he'd been asleep when something tugged him awake.
At first, he thought it was nothing. A dream dissolving. A trick of the mind.
Then he stilled.
Lina's breathing was steady beside him, slow and even. The room was dark now, the lamp long extinguished. Moonlight traced pale lines across the floor.
He closed his eyes.
The world shifted.
His Sixth Sense stirred, subtle but unmistakable, like a thread being pulled tight inside his chest.
There.
A presence.
Faint. Careful. Above them.
On the roof.
He listened, not with his ears, but with that strange, sharpened awareness. Footsteps too light to be accidental. A pause. Then movement again, deliberate and controlled.
This wasn't imagined.
And it wasn't random.
Jiang lay perfectly still, eyes closed, breathing unchanged. His mind began to work, calm and precise, already measuring distance and intent.
Whatever was out there… he would stop it.