Since their wedding night, Zong Jun sought her out almost every night, his ardor seemingly fueled by her shy resistance and hesitant acquiescence. He found immense satisfaction in molding her innocent body, drawing out wave after wave of pleasure until she was lost in a haze of moans.

Yet, beyond the physical, there was a void. Despite her seemingly naive demeanor, Yao Ji possessed a keen perception of others. She sensed that Zong Jun, while gentle and patient, held her at arm's length. He cherished her, pampered her, much like a beloved pet rabbit. A telling detail was his reluctance to speak of himself, a clear indication that he deemed her unworthy of knowing his inner thoughts.

Love requires understanding; without it, there can be no enduring bond. Yet, Yao Ji couldn't confide in anyone, not even her closest confidante, Aqing. Her marriage to Zong Jun was rooted in political strategy; his genuine affection was almost irrelevant. She felt guilty for even harboring such expectations, considering his almost complete indulgence of her whims. Aside from his occasional disregard for her pleas during their intimate moments, he granted her remarkable freedom, even allowing her to ride daily, a privilege rarely afforded someone of her status within the Youjin tribe.

It was during one of these rides that she encountered Moroha. A flicker of recognition sparked within her upon seeing the young man. She'd intended to ride past, but inexplicably drew rein.

A guard hurried over, his face breaking into a fawning smile upon seeing her elaborate attire and the golden belt signifying her position as Great Khatun. "Greetings, Great Khatun! May the Eternal Heaven grant you long life and good health!"

Yao Ji gestured for him to rise, her gaze fixed on the bowed figure of Moroha. "What is he doing?"

"Oh," the guard replied, "He's making rope." Noticing her puzzled expression, he added with a smirk, "He's a rebel captured by the Great Khan. In his mercy, the Khan spared his life, sentencing him to labor making rope as penance for his crimes."

"I see," Yao Ji nodded, the memory of their previous encounter resurfacing. "I remember you... your name is..." She furrowed her brow, struggling to recall the name Zong Jun had mentioned. Her lips pursed in concentration before her face lit up. "You're called Moroha, aren't you?"

Moroha remained silent, his hands continuing their rhythmic work.

"Forgive him, Great Khatun, he knows no manners," the guard snapped, raising a foot as if to kick him. "Kneel before the Great Khatun!"

"Stop," Yao Ji intervened quickly. "I was merely curious. There's no need to disturb him."

She observed him for a moment longer, her curiosity sated, before turning her horse and riding away, her entourage trailing behind in a cloud of dust. The guard watched them disappear, then turned back to find Moroha still standing motionless, his gaze fixed on the horizon where she had vanished.