When a fluffy little panda cub tumbles down in front of the Wei army camp, clutching a bloodstained strip of old cloth, Wei Shao knows he will never escape the bond of fate between them. The little creature, who gained human form at just three years old, looks up at him, eyes holding the same coldness and stubbornness as his own.
“My name is Xiong Dudu, but you can call me Fufu,” she says. “I want you to raise me.”
The fires of war still rage across Youzhou, and undercurrents churn at court. Wei Shao has no desire to take in such a strange being. But she has a space unlike anything in the mortal world and a golden finger that lets her foresee the future. Time and again, she helps him escape danger amid the whirlpool of political schemes. A cold, abstinent marquis is forced to play the proud papa in public, yet slaughters every enemy for her in private. On the night the Qiao Clan falls, the blood-red glow stains her fur and illuminates the weakness in his heart.
If fate is a carefully staged collision, Wei Shao is willing to shoulder the debt, even if he must offer her the realm as a bride-price and repay her with the rest of his life.
When a divine beast descends into the mortal world and an emperor bows before her, who is the real captive?
