From Bai Xuan Hua's Perspective
Hua had fallen into a trap.
Not just any trap — a master plan, the kind worthy of a cunning strategist straight out of an old romance novel.
And the worst part?
She knew exactly who the mastermind was: her fiancé, Zhuge Su Yeon.
She was absolutely certain of it.
Of course, he would never admit it — not with that serene face and those eyes that swore he had done nothing wrong.
But Hua knew him too well. She recognized that faint, treacherous sparkle that appeared in his gaze every time he plotted something.
And yes, he had plotted this.
All of it.
It had started that morning — and honestly, Hua wished she could go back in time just to slap her naïve self from a few hours earlier.
She had woken with her heart restless.
She had spent an entire week worrying about him, wondering what exactly he was doing locked away in isolation while she was left at the mercy of his sisters (and her own), tormented in every possible way.
But the instant she saw him in the hall, seated at the table with that troubled expression, her heart melted.
He looked… vulnerable.
Yeon rarely showed emotion. So seeing him like that — tired eyes, slightly lowered gaze, tension in his shoulders — was enough to shatter any wall Hua had built around her heart.
Without thinking, she ran to him.
And that was where everything began to crumble.
The second she got close, he looked up — and before she could say a single word, he pulled her into his arms.
Just like that.
No warning. No chance to react.
And just like that, the worried Zhuge Su Yeon vanished like morning mist in sunlight.
In his place appeared the real villain — calm, smiling, confident, and, worst of all, completely pleased with himself.
In that moment, Hua knew.
It had all been an act.
A perfectly staged performance designed to make her surrender.
And surrender she did.
Oh, how she did.
Now, thinking back on it, Hua wanted to drown in embarrassment.
Her glorious plan for revenge — the one she had spent an entire week crafting — had died a swift and tragic death before it even began.
She had planned to ignore Yeon completely, to make him feel the weight of leaving her alone.
Maybe even reject his sweet words for a few days — nothing extreme, just enough to make her point.
But all of that collapsed the moment he wrapped his arms around her.
And he was fast — as fast as he was dishonest.
Before she could even remember her own name, he had already guided her to the seat beside him, draped an arm around her shoulders, and started talking as if nothing had happened.
He spoke of trivial things, as though a week in isolation were nothing more than a long nap.
And to make matters worse, he started feeding her.
Yes. Feeding her.
With his own hands, as if it were some tender gesture — when in truth it was nothing short of psychological warfare.
Because Hua, proud as she was, would never spit out the food he offered her.
That would be rude.
Unworthy.
A loss in the sacred battlefield of etiquette.
So, of course, she swallowed.
And he knew she would.
That was the whole point.
That morning turned into sweet torture.
Yeon spoke softly, his voice low and melodic, and Hua — still trying to maintain her righteous anger — found herself laughing despite herself, answering without thinking.
Before she knew it, they were eating breakfast together like a happy couple, as if there had been no week of isolation, no vengeful plotting, no resentment at all.
The bastard had won.
And when she finally realized it — when the breakfast was over and she was ready to reclaim her lost dignity and maybe hit him (just a little, just to balance things out) — he dragged her away.
Literally.
With that same calm smile, Yeon stood, took her by the hand, and led her out of the hall, saying something about an "important meeting."
And before she could protest, they were standing before six Zhuge princesses — each impeccably poised, kneeling in perfect harmony before the ice throne.
While the girls bowed with reverence, Yeon, that saintly-faced villain, remained serene, expression immaculate as if he had never done a single wrong thing in his entire life.
And before everyone, he began taking gifts from his spatial ring — like the most benevolent brother in Zhuge history.
One by one, rare and priceless items appeared in his hands.
Ancient-forged spirit blades, jade fans infused with energy, daggers of divine alloys.
Then came the refined pills, each radiating a faint golden glow — elixirs that even the elders of great sects would beg to possess.
And he distributed them with infuriating ease, each gesture accompanied by soft, affectionate words.
"These will strengthen your inner meridians."
"This sword is of fine spiritual lineage. Pair it with your fire energy, Huo."
"And soon, each of you will receive a personal cultivation manual — one tailored to your own spiritual nature."
The sisters looked at him as if the sun itself had descended to bless them.
And Yeon smiled.
That same calm, patient smile — the one he always wore when he was up to something.
Hua knew.
She knew exactly what he was doing.
He was spoiling his sisters, playing the part of the perfect brother, while pretending he had done absolutely nothing wrong.
As if a week of disappearance, the abandonment of his fiancée, and all her emotional chaos had never existed.
And there he was:
Perfect.
Serene.
Giving gifts.
As if the entire universe had conspired to absolve him of all guilt.
Hua crossed her arms, turning her head away — mostly to resist the urge to throw him off the palace balcony rather than out of modesty.
But deep down, she knew exactly what that serene gaze concealed.
Zhuge Su Yeon could fool the whole world with that unshakable expression.
But she knew the truth.
That man…
That man was a genius of evil.
Not only had he escaped punishment, but he was now using his sisters as shields — surrounding himself with innocence and reverence, making it impossible for Hua to lose her composure there.
She couldn't yell, couldn't scold him, couldn't raise her voice — not without looking like the hysterical fiancée who fights the Emperor in the middle of an imperial gathering.
He knew that.
Oh, how he knew.
And the worst part was that, even knowing all this, she still couldn't bring herself to hate him.
Because as she watched him standing there, serene and distant, surrounded by his sisters, Hua couldn't help but think:
"Damn you, Zhuge Su Yeon…
you're impossible to hate."