Her palm-sized face was exquisitely chiseled with a cool elegance, her skin as flawless as porcelain. Paired with luminous, liquid eyes, Su Ci possessed a radiant beauty that seemed to shimmer with every move. The truth was, the scar on her face was fake. Su Ci made her way to the master bedroom. She had to sleep with Fu Nancheng. She had thought they would never cross paths again after that night, but here she was, having to pretend to be Su Xue and get into his bed. The image of his tall, impassive back and his icy warning replayed in her mind. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Fu Nancheng was already in bed. Su Ci eased onto the mattress, keeping to the far edge, as far away from him as she could get. Fu Nancheng was in a foul mood, and he suspected it had something to do with that young maid. There was something about her eyes—so clear and cool, shimmering with an innocent, fractured light. Yet she had the nerve to write such a brazen love letter to his nephew. Pushing thoughts of the maid aside, Fu Nancheng opened his eyes and glanced at the slender figure beside him. She was pressed so close to the edge of the bed he thought she might fall off if she moved an inch. “What are you doing all the way over there? Get over here,” he snapped. Su Ci shifted, inching closer. Fu Nancheng caught her scent again—that same alluring fragrance. He couldn't place the floral notes, but it was utterly intoxicating. “In my arms,” he commanded, his voice low. *In his arms?* Su Ci’s lashes fluttered. The last thing she wanted was to be in his arms, but she was supposed to be Su Xue. Refusing would only make him suspicious. Su Ci shifted again. She turned over, her body rigid as she settled into his embrace. Fu Nancheng wrapped a strong arm around her delicate shoulders, burying his face in her hair to inhale her scent. It was addictive. “You never told me what perfume you were wearing last time.” “I’m not wearing any.” “You mean… this is your natural scent?” His deep, mellow voice, tinged with amusement, ghosted across her cheek. A blush crept up Su Ci’s face. “That’s not what I meant, Young Master.” “Young Master?” His hand shot out, gripping her delicate chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Why did you just call me ‘Young Master’?” That’s what the young maid called him. Su Ci’s heart leaped into her throat. She had been so nervous she’d forgotten herself. He was staring at her, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I… It’s my first time… with you. I’m just so nervous,” she stammered. Fu Nancheng studied her face. He’d always known Su Xue was beautiful, but tonight, she was… almost unreasonably so. Her porcelain skin was so fine he could see the soft, translucent down on her cheeks. Her lips were crimson, her long hair an inky black, and her clear, luminous eyes seemed to sparkle. The classic, stunning image of crimson lips and pearly teeth burned itself into his vision. By comparison, the Su Xue he saw during the day seemed almost… common. He didn't yet realize he was looking at the difference between the original and a cheap imitation. A smirk touched his lips. His thumb, lightly calloused, stroked the delicate skin of her jaw. “How did you get so timid all of a sudden?” he murmured. “You weren’t this shy when you were climbing all over me.” “…That was because the Old Madam drugged me…” Su Ci explained, her voice faint. He stared at her. “Then what are you supposed to call me? Say it.” A shudder ran through Su Ci as she remembered the cloyingly sweet way Su Xue would call him ‘husband.’ She wanted to shrink away, but his grip on her chin was firm, his domineering presence leaving no room for escape. “Husband…” The word escaped her in a rush, and she immediately buried her face in his chest. She couldn’t begin to imagine the look on his face if he ever found out that the woman in his arms was not his fiancée, but the young maid he so disdained—a maid he had just forced to call him ‘husband.’ Fu Nancheng raised an eyebrow. He hadn't meant to tease her, but this version of her was surprisingly flustered. Her shy panic was like a startled fawn trying to burrow deeper into his embrace. That single word, “husband,” was breathy and sweet. His Adam’s apple bobbed.