Deborah_Leo

In the grand empire of Skiiri, a marriage is arranged between the noble Prince Xìn Xuān and the elegant Princess Lù Zhāo—a union meant to strengthen alliances, not hearts. Among her guards is a silent, sharp-eyed knight named Shèng Lín, whose loyalty masks a deadly secret: he is a spy sent to assassinate the prince.

But fate has other plans.

On the final night of their journey through the mountains, beneath pouring rain and hidden desires, the prince and the spy share an unexpected kiss. When dawn comes, they wake up not with regret… but in each other’s bodies.

Forced to switch lives, the proud prince must live as a lowly knight, and the cold spy must pretend to be royalty. They must fool their kingdoms, survive political traps, and navigate the palace’s endless gaze—all while untangling the growing feelings that neither can deny.

Yet when the prince discovers the truth—that the man he’s falling for was once sent to kill him—the fragile trust between them shatters.

Will love survive betrayal?
Or will duty and destiny tear them apart for good

(bl) Swapped lover

Fifteen days had passed since the soul swap.

Of tension so thick it pulsed in the air between them.

That night, Prince Xìn Xuān sat naked in the large bathtub, warm steam curling around his skin. Water glistened on his collarbones, his lashes wet as he leaned back against the porcelain, lost in thought.

Rain tapped lightly against the windows—soft but steady. Just like the night everything had changed.

Shèng Lín stepped in, eyes widening as he froze mid-step.

For a breathless moment, neither of them moved. Their gazes locked, but neither turned away.

Then, with a tight breath, Shèng Lín turned and walked back out of the bathroom.

But only a moment later, Shèng Lín returned—this time holding a bottle of wine.

He stepped inside and placed it silently near the edge of the bath.

"I think," Shèng Lín said, his voice low, "we should retrace everything."

Xìn Xuān looked up slowly. "…It's raining."

Shèng Lín gave a nod, poured a glass of wine, and drank a slow sip. He handed the bottle to the prince, who took a long drink himself.

Shèng Lín leaned forward—and this time, the prince met him halfway.

No awkwardness. No tension. Just pure emotion.

Their kiss deepened, slow and desperate. Hands slipped across damp skin. Fingers tangled in hair. The wine and steam blurred the edges of the world.

And it still didn't change anything.

They pulled apart slowly, breathing heavy.

Shèng Lín's voice trembled. "…I don't know how you'll react to this. But if we're being honest—then I need to tell you."

"I'm not just a knight. I was sent here as a spy. My mission… was to kill you."

Xìn Xuān's eyes widened, but he said nothing.

Shèng Lín's fingers clenched. "That night, I… mixed poison into your wine. Just enough to paralyze you. But before you could drink all of it… you pulled me in and kissed me."

"…And somehow," he whispered, "we swapped."

The prince's expression was unreadable—anger, betrayal, pain, all crashing into one.

His voice came out low and dangerous.

He nodded silently and left the room.

When he returned, he brought a small vial tucked into the lining of his sleeve—one he had never thrown away.

He poured it into the wine, watched it dissolve, then drank from the bottle.

And finally, he leaned in and kissed the prince again.

A strange shimmer passed between their bodies—

The only sound left was the steady rainfall and the soft dripping of wine.

Chapter 17 — Poisoned Truth, Honest Touch