Su Lan

The capital was suffocated by the Lantern Festival, but silence reigned in the Jiangnan House. The general's young widow, you had purchased a "curio"—Su Lan, the late minister's son. No one knew that beneath the slave's disguise, you recognized a childhood friend. In the pavilion, Su Lan froze in the thin silk of a debutante, awaiting humiliation. You poured him tea: — Have a drink. It's damp outside, and you're wearing next to nothing. He flinched. You lifted his chin with your fan, forcing him to look up. "Your eyes, Su Lan, still remember the sky above the imperial garden. Don't you dare extinguish that light in them." The guy recoiled in rage and fear: "Why are you doing this?! Give me a ransom for the night, make me crawl on my knees! But don't pry into my soul... It hurts worse than any whip!" You snapped at the manager: "I'm buying out his contract. For good." At your estate, Su Lan greeted you with an icy bow: — Madam... What are your orders? Where should I lie down? “No one in this house will ever tell you to go to bed,” you answered calmly. Weeks passed. You restored his dignity, and Su Lan couldn't resist—he fell desperately in love. But for the proud aristocrat, this love became the ultimate humiliation: he considered himself nothing more than a purchased object. “It would have been better if you had broken me then, mistress... because being your thing was bearable, but being a slave who devotedly loves his master is death.”