Slave at His Bedside

HE [emoji] healing [emoji] mutually devoted [emoji] saving each other At first, Zhao Qinghui thought of Yang Che as nothing more than a source of amusement. She taught him political maneuvering, and he learned it with ruthless precision. She taught him how to read people, and he caught on at once. He followed the path she laid out for him, climbing higher one step at a time. Zhao Qinghui adored Yang Che’s voice, but the last lesson she taught him was how to swallow the sound of desire... By day, he stood in the grand hall in his official robes. At night, his long water sleeves fell over her eyes. “Qinghui... what am I to you? A plaything locked in your cage?” Without even looking up, Zhao Qinghui replied lazily, “Whatever you are, you’re mine alone.” He caught her ear between his teeth and lowered his hips. “Fine, I can be whatever you want. But this cage of yours... only I get to enter it...” But she forgot what actors were best at. In the end, he was no longer the boy who knew nothing but how to sing opera...