"No," she said flatly. "I don’t snore."

"Good."

He didn’t move.

Neither did she.

The space between them was as thin as glass.

---

Then he stepped back.

Turned toward the bed.

"There’s space on the left. Don’t cross to my side."

Su Wan blinked again. "You’re... letting me stay?"

He didn’t look at her. "Grandfather will send someone to check in an hour. If you’re not here, he’ll ask questions."

Of course.

Not generosity. Not acceptance.

Strategy.

She nodded. Moved toward the left side of the bed. Placed her suitcase down. Sat on the edge.

The mattress was firm. The sheets were cool. The scent of him—cedar and something darker—clung to the pillows.

She tried not to notice.

---

Lu Shaohan returned to his desk. Picked up his documents. Read in silence.

The only sounds were the turning of pages and the soft rhythm of their breathing.

Outside, the wind picked up. Rain began to tap against the windows.

Su Wan lay down. Stared at the ceiling.

She could feel him there. Across the room. A presence she couldn’t ignore.

One night, she told herself.

Just one night.

But even as she thought it, she knew—

This was only the beginning.

---

Suddenly, a soft knock shattered the quiet room.

Lu Shaohan looked up slightly irritated. "Enter." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

A servant stepped in—young, pale, trembling. "Young Master... there’s a problem."

She froze mid-step, seeing Su Wan already on the bed, her eyes widening as if she’d walked into something forbidden.

Lu Shaohan’s voice turned cold. "What is it?"

The servant swallowed hard. "Second Madam sent tonic for Young Madam’s pregnancy. She insisted Young Madam drink it tonight before bed."

Su Wan sat up slowly.

Her eyes narrowed.

Tonic?

Poison.

In the original novel, the tonic caused heavy bleeding. Almost caused miscarriage. Blamed on stress. On weakness. On the baby’s own frailty.

Another trap.

Wrapped in silk and served in jade.

"Bring it here," Lu Shaohan said.

The servant hurried forward, placing a small porcelain bowl on the desk. Took a few steps back trembling.

Lu Shaohan picked up the bowl. Looked at it. Dark liquid. Sweet scent. Harmless to anyone who didn’t know better.

Then—to everyone’s shock—he raised it to his own lips.

Su Wan moved before she thought.

Her hand shot out. Fingers wrapped around his wrist. Tight.

The room froze.

Her skin against his. His pulse beneath her fingertips. Steady. Strong.

Their eyes met.

And she whispered—urgent, low—

"Don’t drink that."

Silence.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Then, very slowly, Lu Shaohan looked at her hand gripping his wrist. Then at her face.

And asked in a voice that could cut glass—

"How did you know?"

The question hung in the air like a blade.

Outside, thunder rolled.

Inside, something far more dangerous stirred.

Because for the first time—he was beginning to suspect.

His wife knew too much.

The room fell silent.

So silent that even the rain striking the windows sounded loud.

Su Wan still held Lu Shaohan’s wrist. Warm. Firm. Dangerously intimate.

And she realized—too late—what she had done.

She released him at once.

But the moment her fingers slipped away, Lu Shaohan caught her hand. Fast. Hard but not painful. His dark eyes locked onto hers.

"How did you know?"

His voice was low. Controlled. Which was somehow more terrifying than anger.

Su Wan’s mind raced. One wrong answer—and suspicion would explode.

Then she said calmly, "The smell."

She looked at the bowl. "There’s saffron in it."

Silence.

The servant carrying the tray nearly dropped to her knees. Because saffron—could cause bleeding in pregnancy.

Lu Shaohan’s gaze sharpened. Still studying her. Still not fully convinced.

Then—to Su Wan’s surprise—he lifted the bowl again.

And said, "If it’s poison..."

He pressed the bowl into her hands.

"Drink it."

Boom.

Like lightning striking. Even Su Wan’s pupils contracted.

So ruthless. He was testing her. If she refused, she looked guilty. If she drank, she risked whatever else might be in it.

Cruel. Very cruel.

The old Su Wan would have panicked.

But Su Wan smiled.

Then she raised the bowl and drank.

The entire room froze. Even Lu Shaohan’s expression shifted—because he had not expected that. Not expected her to call his bluff.

She set the empty bowl down.

Silence.

One second. Two. Three.

Nothing happened.

The servant let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

Then—Su Wan’s fingers tightened slightly at her side. So subtle that most wouldn’t notice.

But Lu Shaohan did.

A faint heat spread through her abdomen. Not sharp. Not immediate. But wrong.

She lowered her gaze for a fraction of a second. Measured it. Endured it.

Not enough. Not enough to do anything.

Her pulse steadied again.

Then she lifted her head as if nothing had happened and looked at him.

"Your turn, husband."

The word—husband—landed strangely in the room.