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The grand audience hall of the palace was thick with the scent of incense and the low murmur of ambitious men. Zhao Guangyi sat stiffly on the lower seat to the right of the dragon throne, his usual cold composure cracking at the edges as yet another minister stepped forward.
“Your Highness,” Minister Wang began with an oily smile, bowing deeply, “my eldest daughter is eighteen this year. She is virtuous, skilled in the four arts, and beautiful enough to rival the moon. She would make an excellent match for you and bear strong heirs for the empire.”
Zhao Guangyi’s fingers tightened around the arm of his chair until the wood creaked. His voice was ice. “I have no need for a wife at this time. The court has more pressing concerns than my marital status.”
Another minister, bolder than the last, quickly followed. “Then perhaps Lady Li from the Ministry of Rites? Her family is loyal and her bloodline is excellent for producing sons. The empire needs an heir from the imperial line-”
“Enough.” Zhao Guangyi cut him off sharply, eyes narrowing. “I will not be forced into a marriage for the sake of appearances. If the empire requires an heir, there are other ways. My refusal stands.”
Emperor Zhao Kuangyin, Big Zhao sat on the throne, listening in silence. His sharp gaze occasionally flicked toward his younger brother, noting the growing tension in Zhao Guangyi’s jaw and the way his knuckles had gone white. He knew exactly why his brother refused every offer, every suggestion. The reason was currently absent from the hall but very much present in Zhao Guangyi’s thoughts.
Zhao Pu, standing quietly to the side as the prime minister, remained equally silent. He had long since pieced together the truth. The young hero who lived more in Zhao Guangyi’s private quarters than in his own rented house was not merely a trusted subordinate. The way Zhao Guangyi’s eyes softened only when speaking of him, the way he had rejected every marriage proposal for years. It all pointed to one conclusion. Zhao Pu had chosen not to comment. Some secrets were safer left untouched.
A third minister tried his luck. “Your Highness, with all due respect, you are in your prime. The court worries-”
“I said enough,” Zhao Guangyi snapped, his patience finally fraying. “I will not take a wife simply because you fear I might die without an heir. The matter is closed.”
The hall fell into an uncomfortable silence. Big Zhao finally raised a hand, his deep voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
“That is enough for today. There are more important matters to discuss like the border reports from the north and the grain distribution in the south. We will revisit the topic of marriage arrangements another time.”
The ministers exchanged glances but dared not protest. One by one, they bowed and filed out of the throne room, leaving only the three men behind: Emperor Zhao Kuangyin, Prime Minister Zhao Pu, and the visibly irritated Zhao Guangyi.
The heavy doors closed with a dull thud.
Big Zhao leaned back on the throne, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “You looked ready to draw your sword on them, little brother.”
Zhao Guangyi exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “They are relentless. Every week it is the same. Daughters, nieces, cousins. As if producing an heir is the only measure of my worth.”
Zhao Pu cleared his throat softly, his expression carefully neutral. “They mean well, my lord. The court is anxious about the succession.”
Zhao Guangyi’s gaze darkened. “Then let them be anxious. I have made my position clear for years.”
Big Zhao studied his younger brother for a long moment. His voice dropped, quieter now that only the three of them remained. “You know why they push so hard. And you know why you refuse every single one of them.” His eyes softened with understanding. “Because you already have someone you consider your 'wife', don’t you?”
Zhao Guangyi froze. The word 'wife', the one he used only in the deepest privacy of his own mind when thinking of the young hero, hit him like a physical blow. He had never spoken it aloud, not even to his brother. Yet Big Zhao had seen through him long ago.
Zhao Pu remained silent, but the slight nod of his head showed he shared the same understanding.
Zhao Guangyi’s shoulders tensed, but he did not deny it. “I am not a political tool. Not something to use to satisfy the court’s demands. If they want an heir so badly, they can look elsewhere.”
Big Zhao sighed, though there was no real anger. Only quiet acceptance. “I will keep holding them off as long as I can. But you should be careful, Guangyi. Secrets like this have a way of surfacing when least expected.”
Zhao Guangyi’s expression softened just a fraction at the mention of caution. In the privacy of his heart, the young hero was already his wife or husband, doesn't matter which of two his title was, the one who shared his bed every night, the one who argued with him fiercely and then kissed him breathless, the one who made the weight of the empire feel bearable. He would protect that with everything he had.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But I will not give him up. Not for ministers, not for duty, not for anything.”
Zhao Pu finally spoke, his tone measured. “Then perhaps we should focus on more immediate matters before the court grows bolder.”
Big Zhao nodded, rising from the throne. “Agreed. Go find your young hero little brother. Before he hears about today’s session and decides to overthink again and decides he should sacrifice himself so that others stop bothering you.”
Zhao Guangyi’s ears burned at the word, but he bowed respectfully and turned to leave. As he walked down the long corridor, his steps quickened. The young hero was probably training or resting in their shared quarters by now.
Zhao Guangyi had barely taken ten steps down the corridor when he felt it. That familiar prickle on the back of his neck. Someone had been listening.
High above on the curved roof tiles, hidden in the shadows of the eaves, the young hero crouched motionless. He had come looking for Zhao Guangyi after training, intending to surprise him with dinner. Instead, he had overheard everything.
The ministers’ insistent voices. The repeated offers of daughters and suitable matches. Big Zhao’s knowing comment about 'your wife'. And Zhao Guangyi’s quiet, fierce refusal.
By the time Zhao Guangyi reached their private quarters, the young hero was already waiting inside, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. His face was pale, eyes red-rimmed but dry. The usual bright spark in them had dimmed into something heavy and pained.
Zhao Guangyi closed the door behind him, sensing the shift in the air immediately. “You heard.”
It wasn’t a question.
The young hero nodded slowly. His voice came out quiet, almost hollow. “I was on the roof. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop... But I did heard it.” He swallowed hard.
Zhao Guangyi moved closer, but the hero held up a hand, stopping him.
“Don’t.” The hero’s throat worked. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Every time the court brings up marriage, every time they talk about heirs. I realize I’m standing in your way. In the empire’s way.” His voice cracked. “You need a wife. Someone who can give you legitimate children. Someone who can stand beside you openly without causing scandal. I... I can’t do that. I’m just a man who sneaks into your bed at night.”
He took a shaky breath, forcing the next words out even though they hurt.
“You should take a wife, A'yi. Pick one of those girls they offered. Or let the emperor choose for you. I won’t stand in your way anymore. I’ll move back to my rented house. I’ll disappear from court if I have to. Just don’t let my presence ruin the Song’s future. Don’t let me be the reason there’s no proper heir.”
Zhao Guangyi’s face darkened with anger, but the hero kept going, voice trembling now.
“I’m sorry I was born a man. It would have been easier if I were a woman. Then I could have given you children. I could have been the wife you deserve. Openly, properly. Not this secret we have to hide.”
The words hit Zhao Guangyi like a slap. “Enough!” His voice was low, dangerous, but the anger wasn’t directed at the hero’s suggestion. It was at the self-loathing behind it. He crossed the room in two strides, cupping the hero’s face with both hands, forcing him to look up.
“You listen to me,” Zhao Guangyi said fiercely, eyes burning. “I don’t care about your gender. I don’t care if you can give me heirs or not. I love you. Not some idea of a perfect wife who can bear children. Not a political match. You. The stubborn, reckless, brave young hero who argues with me, who makes me laugh when the court is suffocating, who fights beside me and then melts in my arms at night.”
He leaned down, forehead pressing against the hero’s.
“You are not a mistake. You are not something I have to apologize for or hide away. If the empire needs an heir so badly, they can adopt one, or I can name one from the clan. But I will not take a wife just to satisfy them. Because the only person I want by my side, the only one I call my wife in my heart is you.”
“But-”
“No buts.” Zhao Guangyi’s thumb brushed his cheek. “I chose you. Every single day, I choose you. Male or female, it doesn’t matter. You are the one who makes this cold, ruthless life worth living. Don’t you dare apologize for existing.”
The hero surged forward, crashing their lips together. The kiss was desperate, messy, full of fear, guilt, and overwhelming love. Zhao Guangyi responded with equal hunger, tongue pushing deep, claiming the hero’s mouth as his hands roamed possessively over his body.
Clothes were torn off with impatient hands. Zhao Guangyi pushed the hero onto the bed, kissing and biting a hot trail down his neck and chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other, drawing broken moans from the hero.
“A'yi please...” the hero whimpered, already hard and leaking.
Zhao Guangyi moved lower, licking a wet stripe along the hero’s cock before taking him deep into his mouth in one smooth motion. He sucked him with filthy, wet sounds, tongue swirling around the head while two slick fingers circled the hero’s entrance and pushed inside without warning.
The hero arched with a loud cry, fingers fisting the sheets.
Zhao Guangyi added a third finger quickly, scissoring and curling them relentlessly against the hero’s prostate while he bobbed his head faster, taking the cock to the back of his throat. Saliva dripped down the hero’s shaft and over his balls as Zhao Guangyi worked him open with ruthless precision.
When the hero was shaking and begging, Zhao Guangyi pulled off with a wet pop and flipped him onto his stomach. He yanked the hero’s hips up, spread his cheeks, and spat directly on the fluttering hole before pushing his tongue inside, eating him out with loud, messy slurps.
The hero sobbed into the pillow. “A’yi, please...”
Zhao Guangyi tongue-fucked him thoroughly, then replaced his tongue with his fingers, stretching the hero wide while he stroked his own leaking cock.
Only when the hero was sobbing and pushing back desperately did Zhao Guangyi pull his fingers out and slick his thick cock.
He slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
The hero screamed in pleasure, hole clenching tight around the invasion. Zhao Guangyi didn’t give him time to adjust. He started pounding into him with savage force, hips snapping hard, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing loudly in the room.
“Take it,” Zhao Guangyi growled, one hand fisting the hero’s hair, the other spanking his ass sharply. “This hole is mine. You are mine. Stop trying to give me away to some fucking wife.”
“I’m sorry... I’m yours...” the hero babbled, tears streaming down his face as Zhao Guangyi railed him mercilessly.
Zhao Guangyi flipped him onto his back, folded his legs over his shoulders, and drove in even deeper, pounding directly into his prostate with every thrust.
“You think I want anyone else?” he snarled, spanking the hero’s ass again. “You think I want to fuck some woman when I have you? My perfect, stubborn, beautiful husband?”
The hero sobbed, cock leaking steadily between them. “A’yi, I’m close. Please let me come.”
Zhao Guangyi’s control shattered. He fucked the hero with brutal, punishing strokes, the bed creaking violently. When the hero finally came with a broken scream, spilling across his own chest, his hole clenched so tightly that Zhao Guangyi followed right after, burying himself deep and flooding him with thick, hot ropes of cum.
He kept grinding through his orgasm, pushing every drop as deep as possible, until cum leaked out around his cock.
They collapsed together, panting and trembling. Zhao Guangyi stayed buried inside the hero, holding him close as the aftershocks faded. He pressed soft kisses to the hero’s tear-streaked face, murmuring gentle words against his skin.
“You are enough. You are everything. Never doubt that again.”
The hero curled into his chest, exhausted and finally at peace, whispering hoarsely, “I love you my husband.”
Zhao Guangyi smiled faintly in the darkness, arms tightening around the only person who had ever truly mattered.
END