He is the Nine-Thousand-Year-Old whom everyone condemns: sinister, ruthless, bewitching, and wicked. No one ever treats him as a man, yet whenever people hear the name "Nine-Thousand-Year-Old," they turn pale with fear and flee a hundred paces away.
Only the daughter of a prime minister's family, seeking revenge for her family's murder, signed a marriage contract with him. He asked her to do only three things: "Treat my illness, warm my bed, and bear me a child."
He made just one promise to her: he would never leave her.
That night, the bright moon hung overhead, and the stars glittered like pearls.
"Nine-Thousand-Year-Old, has anyone else ever slept soundly in your bed?"
The Nine-Thousand-Year-Old's lips curled up in a fawning smile, but his answer was utterly earnest. "Before, no one. From now on, only you."
