Perspective: Wu Xian Yue
Yue knew that look all too well.
Her father's eyes — cold, heavy, merciless — were a reminder that she had crossed an invisible line.
It wasn't the gaze of a father.
It was the gaze of an emperor.
That look meant disappointment.
Defiance.
And, above all, a public affront to his authority.
There had been few times when he'd looked at her that way — and none of them had ended well.
Every memory of that gaze came with punishments, silence, and a cutting chill that made any word feel like a sentence.
For an instant, Yue felt the instinct to step back.
To stay silent, to apologize, to pretend regret and simply accept what fate had chosen for her.
It would've been easier — and perhaps safer.
But not this time.
Because now, what was at stake wasn't a whim.
It was her life.
Not her present — that, she already owned — but her future.
Every year to come, every path she'd walk, every limit fate would try to impose.
All of it was being decided here, beneath the iron throne and the eyes of the man she both respected and feared the most.
And if she backed down now, she knew she'd be surrendering forever.
So even with her heart pounding against her ribs, she kept her gaze steady.
Unafraid.
Unflinching.
The hall was drowned in silence.
Not even the crackle of torches or the whisper of fabric dared interrupt the moment.
Every eye — her brothers', the guards', the servants' — was fixed on her, as if witnessing something impossible.
Then… something happened.
The emperor drew a slow breath, and for a moment Yue thought he would rise and order an end to this madness.
But instead — he leaned back.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips.
A sound she had never heard from him before.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't irritation.
It was… resignation.
And then he spoke — his voice firm, but lacking its usual hardness.
"Very well," he said, resting one hand on the arm of the throne.
"As long as the Zhuge heir accepts this agreement, you have my permission."
The words seemed to echo in the air, mingling with the distant crackle of a torch that flared higher — as if even the palace itself had been startled.
For a moment, Yue couldn't believe what she'd heard.
She had done it.
A wave of relief surged through her, and despite herself, a small smile touched her lips.
Not a smile of defiance or triumph — but of pure, genuine joy.
It was only the first step.
The first obstacle overcome.
But even so, it was a victory.
Because for the first time, the path ahead belonged to her — and no one else.
Freedom was still distant, perhaps veiled in danger and humiliation, but she could see it now.
And seeing the horizon, even out of reach, was enough to fill her heart with strength.
Now came the second half of the challenge.
Her father had relented.
But the final decision wasn't his.
It depended on the man standing only a few meters away — the heir of the Zhuge clan, the man they called a living catastrophe, the slayer of a hundred and four monks, the nightmare of an entire monastery.
Yue didn't believe a man like that would ever back down.
A name like his couldn't survive an act of cowardice.
And a man who had defied temples and spiritual orders wouldn't allow himself to be humiliated by a mere woman.
She was certain he would accept.
And she was ready for it.
With a steady heart, she turned slowly, letting her gaze fall upon him.
She expected hatred.
Wounded pride.
Perhaps the cold, arrogant look of someone who couldn't bear being challenged by a woman.
But unexpectedly… she was wrong.
The man before her didn't look angry.
Not even offended.
There was something different in his eyes — something Yue couldn't name right away.
And for a brief instant, fire and ice — opposites that had stood apart until now — seemed to recognize each other.
Zhuge Yu Jin.
The man she had just challenged — the one she had essentially called weak before the entire Wu court — didn't react as she expected.
He showed no anger.
No offense.
Not even surprise.
He simply looked at her — and smiled.
That smile…
It was open, sincere, and somehow completely out of place in that hall where even the air seemed bound by the gears of formality.
A smile of someone who found amusement in chaos.
Someone who saw not insult — but opportunity.
For an instant, Yue was speechless.
He wasn't like anyone she had ever met.
And in that silence, she finally understood why the world called him a catastrophe.
It wasn't just his strength — it was his nature.
Yu Jin seemed like the kind of man who would set the world on fire just to watch it burn.
There was something dangerous about him — but also something deeply fascinating.
A living, untamed energy that clashed violently with the rigid, controlled air of the iron throne.
He watched her for a while longer.
Not with judgment, but with an almost playful curiosity — as though he were assessing a new weapon, or a promising opponent.
And then, finally, he spoke.
"I naturally accept," he said, his voice low but carrying a confidence so casual it was almost infuriating.
"However… I have a condition of my own."
The entire hall froze.
Yue held her ground — her posture straight, her gaze unwavering, not letting the tension show.
She answered with the same calm tone she used in training — the one that concealed every trace of emotion.
"State your condition," she said, each word measured with precision.
His smile widened.
The kind of smile that always came before an explosion.
Yu Jin stepped forward — and for an instant, the light of the torches reflected off his golden hair, making it shimmer like liquid fire.
His gaze — intense, reddish-gold, full of sparks — met hers with the ease of someone who had already decided the outcome.
"It's tradition," he began, speaking slowly, savoring every word, "for a Zhuge's bride to visit the imperial castle before the wedding."
Yue said nothing, though her heart skipped a beat.
He continued:
"My elder brother's fiancée is always there… so, if I win this duel, I expect Lady Yue to accompany me back to Zhuge Island."
The words were spoken so calmly that for a moment, the hall didn't seem to grasp their weight.
But Yue understood instantly.
That man had just turned her fate into a public wager.
And in doing so, made it clear that for him, victory meant claiming her not just in name — but in presence.
His gaze was confident — arrogantly so.
There was no doubt, no hesitation, not even overt provocation.
It was as though he simply knew how it would end.
The same smile remained on his lips — softer now, almost careless.
But to Yue, it meant something entirely different.
It wasn't the smile of a man who wanted to win…
it was the smile of someone eager to see how far she would go to resist.
And for the first time, Wu Xian Yue realized that the game had stopped being a matter of honor.
From this moment on, it was a war of wills.