The night cloaked the mansion in inky shadows, flickering lamplight casting a warm glow as the banquet drew to a close. The hall emptied, leaving only a charged silence in its wake. Lü Bu reclined at the table, his chiseled frame a study in power—broad shoulders taut beneath his robe, muscles honed by battle flexing with each breath. His smoldering gaze fixed on Diao Chan beside him, her beauty a quiet storm in gossamer silk. Her willow-slim waist swayed beneath the sheer fabric, every shy movement laced with unspoken promises. She stole a fleeting glance at his handsome face—sharp jawline, piercing eyes—and their gazes locked, sending a flush to her cheeks. She quickly turned away, her lashes lowering in demure retreat, a gesture that only stoked the fire in his chest.
Wang Yun sat to the side, observing the scene with a concealed smirk, his heart thrumming with satisfaction. Lü Bu had taken the bait, his carefully woven plan falling into place like silk threads in a loom. Feigning a drunken sway, he slurred with deliberate ease, "This old man can't handle his wine—allow me to retire briefly. Let my daughter entertain the general with a few more cups." He paused, casting a sly smile at Diao Chan. "My dear, the fortunes of our entire household now rest on the general's favor."
Diao Chan's cheeks flushed at his words, a delicate rose blooming beneath her porcelain skin. She lowered her gaze, as if unable to meet Lü Bu's piercing eyes, her lashes casting shadows of feigned innocence. She turned swiftly, her gossamer silk skirts whispering against the floor, as if to flee to the inner chambers—but Lü Bu shifted restlessly in his seat, his breath catching, torn between the urge to call her back and the fear of appearing too forward. Wang Yun, catching the flicker of desire in Lü Bu's gaze, felt a surge of triumph. He chuckled softly, his voice warm with false benevolence. "General Lü is my dearest friend, child. It's only fitting you keep him company."
At Wang Yun's words, Diao Chan hesitated, a faint tremor in her slender frame, before gliding back to sit beside Lü Bu. Her movements were a dancer's verse, each gesture imbued with a tender grace as she lifted the wine jar to pour for him. She leaned in, her jasmine-scented breath warm against him, her murmured encouragements a silken thread weaving through the air. Her smile unfurled like a spring breeze, kindling a molten glow in Lü Bu's chest. His gaze, ablaze with hunger, roamed her delicate features, then dipped lower, lingering on the curves beneath her sheer silk, drinking in her beauty like a rare, forbidden nectar.
Wang Yun watched the tableau unfold, his fingers stroking his beard with quiet glee. Clearing his throat, he spoke with measured gravity, "This old man has a mind to secure my daughter's future—by offering her hand to the general in marriage. Would the general deign to accept such a humble union?"
Lü Bu's eyes widened, a storm of joy and disbelief raging within him. For a heartbeat, he sat frozen, the words sinking in, before he dropped to his knees in a fervent bow, his voice thick with emotion. "Lord Situ honors me beyond measure—Lü Bu swears to repay this kindness with the loyalty of a hound!" His gaze burned with gratitude and raw anticipation, his mind already racing with visions of this ethereal beauty bound to him in wedlock.
Wang Yun's heart swelled with smug delight as he helped Lü Bu to his feet, his smile indulgent. "We'll choose an auspicious day soon, and I'll send my daughter to your residence. For now, I'll take my leave to rest—let the two of you speak freely."
Lü Bu's chest tightened with a mix of gratitude and restless yearning, knowing Wang Yun's promise was no idle jest—this moment marked a turning point in his life. Beside him, Diao Chan's eyes shimmered with a veiled emotion, a fragile dance of anticipation and uncertainty stirring in their depths, her heart caught between the role she played and the fire Lü Bu's presence kindled within her.
As Wang Yun's figure retreated into the shadows, the air between Lü Bu and Diao Chan thickened with an unspoken intensity, time itself slowing to a languid crawl. Their gazes met once more, the spark between them flaring brighter, a silent promise of the tempest to come.