Lu Zhaoning is the legitimate daughter of the Prince of Zhenbei and the secret leader of the emperor’s personal guard, trained by the late emperor. She commands the spies across the realm.
Shen Yanzhi is the pawn she personally helped rise to the position of chancellor: frail, obedient, and always at her command.
So she married him.
She married without hesitation, as though it were only natural. At court, she is the prickly noblewoman forced into the match by imperial decree; behind closed doors, he is the piece she placed in the most crucial position.
On their wedding night, she sits beside the bridal bed, planning how to use this new bond to further her schemes.
But he suddenly speaks.
“My lady, there’s no need to trouble yourself.”
Lu Zhaoning looks up.
In the candlelight, the “sickly” chancellor slowly removes his outer robe, revealing the secret guard’s insignia at his waist, one she knows all too well.
“The thirty-two people you planted in the Chancellor’s residence,” he says, “were all handpicked by me.”
Lu Zhaoning’s pupils contract.
He smiles faintly, his gaze clear and bright, nothing like that of a sick man.
“I forgot to tell you: three years ago, the letter your father had someone deliver before he died was meant for me.”
I thought he was a pawn.
He thought he was putting on an act.
Neither of us knew that the first move in this game had been made fifteen years ago, on a snowy night.
