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

The dawn broke quietly, but the world inside Shèng Lín felt anything but calm.

His body was still sore from the night before, marked by the Prince's kisses and possessive touches that still lingered on his skin like fire.

The Prince lay beside him, half-awake, one arm draped around Shèng Lín's waist as if afraid he would vanish if he let go.

Shèng Lín stared at the ceiling, every breath heavy with regret and unspoken words.

Every question carved deeper into him.

Because if he spoke the name, two lives would be destroyed:

The life of the person who had raised him from the gutter, who had saved him and turned him into what he was.

And the life of the Prince—who would lose faith in everything he believed in once he learned who had betrayed him.

Shèng Lín turned his head slightly, watching the Prince's sleeping face.

The faint, almost childish trust in the way he leaned into Shèng Lín's warmth.

> "If I tell him, I will lose him."

"If I don't tell him, he will keep chasing the truth until it breaks him."

He slipped out of bed quietly, dressing as the Prince stirred.

But before he could leave, a hand caught his wrist.

> "Where are you going?" the Prince's hoarse morning voice asked.

> "I need air," Shèng Lín replied softly, without meeting his eyes.

> "Stay," the Prince said, sitting up, hair messy, the blanket sliding off his shoulders. "You're not running from me again."

Shèng Lín's throat tightened. "I'm not running."

Slowly, Shèng Lín lifted his gaze. Their eyes met, and the Prince's burned with hurt, longing, and a dangerous promise.

> "Who is it?" the Prince whispered. "Who sent you?"

The Prince's jaw clenched, but he didn't yell. Instead, he rose, stepping close, tilting Shèng Lín's chin up.

Tears burned at Shèng Lín's eyes, but he blinked them away.

> "I trust you with everything," he whispered, "but I can't betray them."

The Prince's hands tightened on his jaw, their foreheads pressing together.

> "Then I'll keep asking. Every day. Every night. Until you do."

Shèng Lín closed his eyes, a single tear slipping free.

That morning, Shèng Lín left the Prince's chamber to fulfill his duties, but his mind was a storm.

He fought with the soldiers during drills, taking hits he didn't need to take.

He practiced until his hands bled, until he could no longer think about the warmth of the Prince's embrace or the way he called his name like a promise.

But at night, when he returned to the Prince's chamber, the Prince was waiting.

And without words, they fell into each other's arms again.

They were trapped in this tender, desperate cycle:

Shèng Lín, trying to protect him.

Chapter 38 — Torn Between Two Worlds