Waaah, I'm being forced into loving my yandere wife's brain.

"Please come with me, Your Highness."

Lin Zhiyao was helped through the long palace path, the brick joints under her feet were so smooth that there was almost no undulation.

The skirt swept across the ground with a soft rustling sound, and occasionally a palace lantern would dart through the edge of the veil for a moment.

Lin Zhiyao was very nervous, gripping the palace maid's hand tightly. "Where is my maid, Xiaotao?"

She would feel much more at ease if a familiar person were by her side at that moment.

The palace maid paused, seemingly sensing her unease, and gently comforted her, "Your Highness, Xiao Tao still needs to undergo some training before entering the palace. She will return to your side in a week."

Lin Zhiyao didn't know what to say.

She could only let the palace maids help her continue walking into the palace.

The further you go in, the dimmer the light becomes, until finally only flickering candlelight remains.

The carpet beneath my feet was thick and expensive, so soft that it felt like I could sink right into it.

The palace maid helped her sit down on the edge of the bed, then let go of her hand, lowered her head and left quietly, barely making a sound.

Lin Zhiyao heard the soft sound of the palace doors closing behind her.

The hall was so quiet that only her own soft breathing could be heard.

And the subtle sounds of the candles burning.

Lin Zhiyao rested her hands on her knees, her fingertips tracing the embroidery along the edge of her wedding gown, feeling the extremely fine gold thread beneath her fingertips, the stitches tightly bound together.

Lin Zhiyao felt increasingly uneasy.

This specification is incorrect.

Although she had never witnessed the scene of the newly selected ladies entering the palace, the matrons had mentioned it briefly when teaching her the etiquette, saying which gate the newly entered ladies should enter through, which hall they should live in, and which group of people they should serve.

Compared to her today, none can match her.

Aside from the fact that he hadn't yet been officially appointed and was being taken to the Temple of Heaven for the sacrificial ceremony, all the protocol he was being treated was like that of an empress—no, perhaps even higher than that for an empress.

Lin Zhiyao became even more nervous.

She clutched the hem of her skirt above her knees, her fingertips twisting the crepe fabric, through which nothing could be seen.

One could only smell a very faint scent of ambergris in the air, mixed with a few indescribable, familiar, and refreshing aromas.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she suppressed it.

impossible.

After an unknown amount of time, a sound finally came from behind the screen—the beaded curtain was lifted, and the beads collided, making a crisp, delicate sound.

Then came the sound of footsteps.

Stepping onto the thick carpet, I felt steady and powerful.

Through the red veil, one could vaguely see the strong physique of the person approaching, completely unlike the old emperor who needed help even to stand.

Lin Zhiyao's knuckles turned white as she gripped the hem of her skirt.

The footsteps drew closer and closer, finally stopping in front of her.

No, something's definitely wrong.

Lin Zhiyao's heart suddenly raced, and the unease felt like someone was pressing fingertips against her chest, causing her whole body to tense up.

The black toe of the shoe stopped at the edge of the field of vision.

Only a small patch of ground and the boots could be seen under the veil, their gold threads gleaming faintly in the candlelight.

Lin Zhiyao stared at the cloud pattern embroidered on the shoe, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst her throat.

A jade-like hand with distinct joints reached out, its long, slender fingers gently pinching the edge of the veil.

Those hands don't look like those of someone in their forties or fifties at all.

Lin Zhiyao's almond-shaped eyes suddenly widened.

But the person moved very slowly, as if deliberately tormenting her. First, he hooked the string of beads, and then slowly lifted it up.

The instant the candlelight illuminated her eyes, she saw Shen Jin's handsome face looking down at her.

The fox's eyes were slightly upturned at the corners, the curve of which was clearly outlined by the candlelight, and a half-smile played on its lips.

He wore a deep red brocade robe, with a gold and jade belt around his waist, and a twelve-tassel crown on his head, with strings of pearls hanging down, shrouding his eyebrows and eyes in a fine, shadowy veil.

Lin Zhiyao stared at him with wide, almond-shaped eyes, her pupils reflecting the shimmering light of the twelve tassels. She froze, her lips moving slightly, but she couldn't utter a single word.

She instinctively shrank back, her back pressed against the carved bedpost, with nowhere left to retreat.

Shen Jin put the veil aside, and then slowly squatted down in front of her.

The shadow he cast was deeper and larger, firmly enveloping Lin Zhiyao within it.

The pearl tassels on Shen Jin's crown swayed gently as he leaned forward. As Shen Jin leaned in so close, the pearls touched her face, the touch icy cold and penetrating.

He raised his hand, his warm palm pressed against her stiff cheek, and his thumb gently caressed it.

His fox-like eyes deepened as he gazed at the rosy glow that rose from her fair, translucent skin after soaking in the hot spring.

"Yaoyao," Shen Jin's voice was low and tinged with amusement, "What's wrong? Did you see your cousin looking dumbfounded?"

"Or... is Yao Yao unhappy?"

The last syllable carried a chill even greater than the jewels on a crown.

"Cousin...cousin?"

Lin Zhiyao finally managed to squeeze out a weak, breathy sound, as faint as a kitten's meow: "You...how could you..."

Her voice trembled at the end, her teeth chattering, "You...how did you get here...Where is the Emperor?"

Shen Jin didn't answer, but instead moved his face even closer, his nose almost touching hers. His fox-like eyes reflected the candlelight, dark and deep, as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

With Lin Zhiyao's gaze trembling as if she had nowhere to retreat, Shen Jin leaned down and placed his palm on the brocade quilt beside her.

An endless shadow descended, enveloping her entirely.

He was extremely close, so close that Lin Zhiyao could smell the familiar scent of pine wood ink on his clothes, mixed with a faint hint of ambergris.

"Yaoyao," Shen Jin looked down at her, the curve of his lips deepening slightly, "the emperor is no longer here."

Lin Zhiyao opened her mouth, a terrifying speculation forming in her mind, but it was as if she had a lump in her throat, and she couldn't utter a sound.

He... he... murdered his lord...?

They are capable of regicide and usurping the throne.

It is possible.

What in this world could Shen Jin want but not be able to have?

"Didn't Yao Yao really hate marrying that old emperor?"

Shen Jin let out a low chuckle from between his lips, his palm sliding from her soft cheek to the back of her neck, which was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

He forcefully dug his five fingers into her hair, gently pulling her soft body forward and wrapping her in his broad chest.

Lin Zhiyao helplessly let him do as he pleased.

Shen Jin's soft lips pressed against her earlobe, his familiar hot breath falling and brushing against her thin skin.

It was scorching hot.

It seemed as if it could burn Lin Zhiyao through her arms.

Like a whisper, like a gentle kiss.

"So, Yao Yao, from this day forward, I am your husband... Are you happy?"

"My wife."