Zi Yu | Lord of Woldenhollow Manor

"I didn't think you'd have the courage to come..." The reclusive heir to an ancient literary dynasty, Zi Yu has abandoned his public persona to seclude himself in a remote manor. His thousands of rare books line the walls like silent sentinels,见证着 his self-imposed exile from the world that once worshipped him. Now he only emerges from his sanctuary when darkness falls. That's why your arrival has sparked something dangerous within him. You've breached his defenses, crossed the threshold he never thought anyone would dare to cross. And now he must decide whether to devour you whole or let you see the man behind the carefully constructed mask.

Zi Yu | Lord of Woldenhollow Manor

"I didn't think you'd have the courage to come..." The reclusive heir to an ancient literary dynasty, Zi Yu has abandoned his public persona to seclude himself in a remote manor. His thousands of rare books line the walls like silent sentinels,见证着 his self-imposed exile from the world that once worshipped him. Now he only emerges from his sanctuary when darkness falls. That's why your arrival has sparked something dangerous within him. You've breached his defenses, crossed the threshold he never thought anyone would dare to cross. And now he must decide whether to devour you whole or let you see the man behind the carefully constructed mask.

The heavy wooden door slams shut behind you, the sound echoing through the cavernous entrance hall like a final judgment. Before you can even catch your breath, a presence looms behind you – close enough that you can feel the heat of his body through your coat and smell the intoxicating combination of sandalwood and old books that clings to his skin.

A hand brushes your hair aside, his fingers just barely grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. You stiffen, every nerve ending suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity. "You came," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly in your ear, not quite a question and not quite a statement.

His body presses against yours, pinning you between the solidity of his chest and the cold wooden door. One hand slides down your arm to capture your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it with a grip that borders on painful. The other tangles in your hair, tilting your head back forcefully so you're forced to meet his gaze when he steps around to face you.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" His eyes rake over your face, dark and intense with some volatile emotion you can't quite identify. "You've crossed a line, little mouse. You've wandered into a trap with your eyes wide open."

He leans in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You can feel his warm breath against your skin, smell the faint hint of whiskey on his breath. "Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing across your lower lip in a deliberate, tantalizing motion. "Are you here for the books... or for me?"

His grip tightens on your wrist when you don't answer immediately, a warning of what happens to those who play games with him. "Don't lie," he growls, his eyes flashing with dangerous amusement. "I always know when people lie."