A second chance with my billionaire husband

"Still not leaving?"

Yan Ke cursed inwardly, feeling shameful for prioritizing lust over loyalty, and slipped away without dignity.

Yan Song turned to glance at Yun Ya. The girl stood under the lamp, dressed in a lake-blue nightgown, its neckline dipping a bit low—not enough to be overly revealing, but the exposed collarbone was exceptionally sensual. Her skin was whiter than snow, and her eyes gentle like spring water, reminiscent of a cool breeze on a summer night, stirring waves in the lake of his turbulent heart.

Yan Song furrowed his brow.

Yun Ya smiled and asked, "Are you planning to stand there all night?"

Yan Song stepped in, closing the door behind him.

Yun Ya carried a tray inside and placed it on the table. It held a serving of vegetable congee, a small dish of side vegetables, and a cup of hot milk.

Yun Ya ate a few bites, noticing the man still standing by the door, and laughed softly, "Aren’t you hungry?"

Yan Song looked at the tray in front of her—it was clearly a single serving. That brat Yan Ke hadn’t prepared anything for him.

Yun Ya chuckled, "Come over, I’ll feed you."

Yan Song strode to her side and sat down.

Yun Ya scooped a spoonful of congee, "Open wide."

Yan Song glanced at her, shaking his head, "I’m not hungry."

Yun Ya raised an eyebrow, "Are you disdaining me?"

Yan Song’s gaze deepened, quietly fixing on Yun Ya. Her heart skipped a beat in sudden chaos, but she maintained composure and said, "Then you should eat."

Yan Song opened his mouth and swallowed the spoonful, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Yun Ya.

The atmosphere felt a bit ambiguous.

Yun Ya withdrew the spoon, bowing her head to silently finish the bowl of congee while Yan Song’s penetrating gaze stayed on the top of her head. Yun Ya was scheming internally how to ravish him; in her nature, she wouldn’t hold back before beauty.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t realize how foolish she appeared, scooping from a bowl long empty and still feeding herself.

Yan Song raised an eyebrow, quietly watching her distraction.

"Is this bowl of congee tastier than me?" Suddenly a voice came from above her, and Yun Ya looked down at the now empty bowl, wishing she could dig a hole to hide in. But with her thick skin, she laughingly said, "Is Brother Yan jealous of a bowl of congee?"

Yan Song stretched out his long arm, pulling Yun Ya instantly into his embrace, his large hand clasping her waist, the fiery touch sparking tingling sensations deep in her heart. Clinging tightly to his body, she softly spoke, "Brother Yan..."

The sound was truly tender and winding. Yan Song’s gaze darkened, staring at the girl nestled in his arms, wishing he could have her right then. Yet he retained a bit of reason, knowing now was definitely not the right time...

Yun Ya saw the clarity in his eyes, discontentedly wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to find his lips, swept up in a moment of passion, Yan Song also sunk a little.

But eventually, he restrained himself.

The bed was already a disheveled mess, the girl fast asleep.

Lowering his gaze to her sleeping face, Yan Song quietly tended to her wounds, finishing with a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

At the door, Mingyue waited quietly. As he came out, she straightened her posture against the wall.

"Is the young lady asleep?"

"Yes," Yan Song replied in a deep voice.

"Tomorrow is the seventh day of July. The Xing Clan people are about to awaken. After a century of slumber, their retaliation will be terrifying. Your body entering dormancy won’t stand a chance against them. The best solution now is to take the young lady back to Kunlun Mountain. Its natural barriers are impenetrable to them. I’ll order our clan to hunt the Xing Clan. It’s our duty."

Yan Song pressed his lips—a solution indeed the best under the circumstances.

"How can these Xing Clan people be eliminated?"

"Born of resentment, evolved over millennia into evil spirits, they’re indestructible except by resolving the core resentment."

These spirits are incarnations of abandoned souls left on battlefields. War is brutal, always a matter of life or death. Why harbor resentment or hatred?

A lifetime of military service for the country but ultimately victim to colleagues’ intrigues and the sovereign’s suspicion—dying without glory, as a renowned general—isn’t it unjust, isn’t it deserving of resentment?

"Alright, I’ll settle things here and leave for Kunlun Mountain at dawn."

"Your father and brother—they bear the Bai family’s blood. The Xing Clan will soon find them. They must come with us."

Yan Song nodded, "What about my mother?"

"Your mother need not worry. I’ll have someone protect her discreetly."

Zhuang Xiyue herself doesn’t carry Bai family bloodline, but having given birth to descendants, she senses their presence. The Xing Clan won’t spare her, but someone has to stay behind to lure them and facilitate the hunt.