THE MUTE CONCUBINE AND THE NORTHERN PRINCE

The bridal veil was heavy. Silk pressed against Chen Yuren’s face, blinding him in crimson shadows. He could not speak, could not protest. His lips were painted red, his lashes lowered like any maiden’s. To the world, he was Lady Wen Lanyin, the offering from the House of Wen.

But beneath the veil, he was only a mute servant—a boy who had never been allowed to choose his fate.

The doors of the Northern Prince’s palace opened, and the air chilled. He was led forward, every step a death sentence.

On the dais, Prince Li Zhaoyang sat waiting. His dark eyes gleamed with hunger, cruel and unflinching.

The veil was lifted.

A silence hung between them.

Then the prince smiled. Slow. Dangerous. As though he had just discovered the rarest treasure in the empire.

“Exquisite,” he murmured. “My little mute bird.”

And Chen Yuren knew then—his life was no longer his own.