After Disguising Myself as a Man and Taking My Sister's Place as a Bride, the Possessive Patriarch Wants Me Every Night

Three in the morning. Dead silence.

Ling Su’s consciousness was jolted awake by a rough tug. A cold iron cuff snapped shut around her wrist, its other end fastened to a heavy bedpost.

“Miss, forgive us.” Two expressionless matrons held her down and changed her into a glaring scarlet wedding robe with practiced ease.

The elaborate patterns had been designed for a man. The robe was loose, but its stiff fabric rubbed harshly against her skin.

“Let go of me!” Ling Su’s voice was hoarse, but her eyes held no fear, only a bone-chilling coldness.

Her answer came from outside the door: the sharp scrape of her stepmother Madam Liu’s lacquered fingernails against the wood.

“My dear daughter, stop struggling.” Madam Liu’s voice came through the crack in the door, undisguisedly malicious. “Your brother’s health can’t take much more of this.”

Ling Su’s heart sank.

She turned to look out the window. Through the narrow gap, she saw two tall servants supporting a slender figure between them. The figure swayed in the night wind. It was her twin brother, Ling Chen.

His mouth was gagged, and he could only make muffled sobs. His pale face was full of despair.