The seventh month of Yan Shuo's house arrest began with a profound, terrifying realization.
He was trapped.
He was not trapped by a grand array. He was not cornered by the Righteous Alliance. The ancient Demon Lord was completely, utterly immobilized on his own warm jade bed, pinned down by a force far more unstoppable than a heavenly tribulation.
He opened his dark eyes, staring blankly at the silk canopy above.
The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the paper windows, casting a soft, blue-gray light across the bedchamber. The room still smelled faintly of the rich amber and spring lotus massage oil from the night before.
Yan Shuo slowly, carefully tried to move his left arm.
Clench.
Instantly, the soft, pale arm wrapped securely around his waist tightened its grip with the crushing, inescapable strength of a Late Nascent Soul Grandmaster.
Yan Shuo froze.
Sleeping peacefully, her face buried directly into the crook of his neck, was Tantai Zhi.
