Chapter 1

The dungeon was cold and damp. Within two days of arriving, I ached all over.

Everyone imprisoned with me was awaiting execution. We would all be beheaded in the autumn.

Each morning, someone would count on their fingers, working out how many days they had left.

Then they would reminisce, confess their sins, and lament how desperately they hated to leave this world.

I alone kept quiet, lounging on my heap of straw.

Only when the jailers brought our food or made their rounds did I sit up and study them closely.

Like every other prisoner, I didn’t want to die.

Unlike them, I wasn’t merely talking about it. I was doing something.

Under our laws, a pregnant prisoner could leave prison to await her confinement. Her execution would take place after she gave birth.

Ten months bought were ten months gained. Every extra day alive was a victory.

Lately, I had been looking for someone to father the child.

My options in the dungeon were limited to the jailers, so I took my time choosing among them.

Before long, I found a suitable candidate.

A certain jailer made his rounds every night around midnight.

He had sharply drawn brows and eyes bright as stars, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs.

Sometimes, when he walked quickly, his robes fluttered up just enough to offer a glimpse of the fine muscle beneath.

He looked as though he had excellent stamina and knew how to use it. In most respects, he met my requirements perfectly.

So I leaned against my cell door and waited. When he passed, I called softly, “My lord.”

“What is it?” He gave me a cool glance.

I deliberately lowered my neckline, exposing my high, full breasts. From where he stood, he could see everything.

He immediately looked away and repeated, “What is it?”

“I’m terribly thirsty. Could you bring me some water?”

Without answering, he turned and left. A short while later, he returned with a bowl of clean water.

I thanked him sweetly, but didn’t drink a drop.

I used it all to wash myself, making my already fair skin even smoother.

The next day, when he passed, I gazed at him with tears shimmering in my eyes. “My lord, I’ve twisted my ankle. Will you look at it for me?”

I knew he understood medicine.

He had treated another prisoner for a severe headache.

Suspecting nothing, he nodded.

The key turned in the lock. The moment he opened the door, I stumbled and sagged against him as though my bones had melted.

As I did, I tugged my collar loose, baring my slender neck and pale shoulder.

But the jailer kept his eyes to himself and bent to examine my ankle.

After a moment, he said calmly, “Nothing serious. A little swelling. Rest it for two days and it will heal.”

When he started to rise, I quickly held him down, pressing my heaving breasts close to his face.

I made my voice as soft and seductive as I could. “My lord, a beautiful night is all too brief. Won’t you spend it with me?”

“I’ll make certain you enjoy yourself.”

I had been a beauty since childhood, and my figure was lovely too: full breasts, a supple waist.

With an invitation that plain, surely he couldn’t resist.

But his breath merely caught. A moment later, he recovered, pushed me aside, and strode out of the cell.

On the other side of the bars, upright and composed, he even saw fit to lecture me.

“Liu Wenyan, you may be a prisoner, but you should still have some self-respect.”