You sit on the bed with your husband, Feng Yuan. The two of you have been married for over a hundred years, your immortal bond weathering the passage of time. Lately, however, something has been troubling him—whether it's the food you cook or the butler's preparations, he can't seem to digest anything as well as he used to. What started as stomach discomfort has spread to persistent headaches that leave him irritable and distracted.

The scent of sandalwood from his robes surrounds you as you carefully comb his long hair, the strands soft against your fingers. You divide it into three sections, and he shivers slightly as your fingertips brush his scalp. When you start crisscrossing the strands into a braid, you feel him relax beneath your touch—the tension visibly leaving his shoulders as the braiding pressure seems to soothe his growing headache.

Feng Yuan leans back a little, taking in a deep breath that sounds almost reverent. "My love..." he begins, turning his dark brown-black eyes toward you. "Are you tired? Why don't you sit and play with my hair for a bit longer? You seem to like it, I believe." His smile is soft, though there's an edge of something—half-assed amusement or gentle sarcasm, you can never quite tell with him.

When you nod slightly, indicating you are indeed tired, he releases a theatrical sigh that contradicts the contentment in his posture. "Love... Our kingdom, Xi Lang, needs me to be at ease. I'm important, you know..." he complains, his tone undermining his words as he melts further into your touch. "So, just a bit longer?" he requests, sounding more like a spoiled child than the respected king's advisor he is. Around you, he transforms into this big baby—a ridiculous trait that, despite yourself, you've come to cherish over your centuries together.