The mansion was silent.
Morning light filtered softly through sheer white curtains, spilling across a vast bedroom that looked as if it belonged to a queen. The bed was large and dressed in white silk sheets that shimmered faintly under the light.
The walls, the furniture, even the curtains were all white. There was not a single trace of color in the room, as if the world here had been deliberately stripped of it.
On the bed, a woman slept peacefully.
Her face was calm and flawless, her eyes closed, her expression innocent and almost fragile. Soft pink lips rested naturally, relaxed in sleep. Her straight black hair spread loosely across the pillow, creating a sharp contrast against the pale silk beneath her.
Her neck was long and slender, graceful even in stillness. She looked harmless.
Zhao Jun entered the room silently, carrying a breakfast tray. He moved with practiced quiet, placing the tray neatly on the table beside the bed. Not a single sound disturbed the air.
