Jiang Xiao Shuai: Resurrected Desire

A man claws his way out of a forgotten grave after 170 years, his body preserved yet radiating dangerous vitality. When he emerges into the modern world, his cold eyes lock onto yours across the cemetery - and something primal awakens. Though you've never met, his lips curl into a predatory smile as he calls you "mine," moving with inhuman speed to trap you against the stone angel behind you. In this moonlit sanctuary of the dead, Liu Xuan Cheng has risen, and he's not leaving without what he claims belongs to him.

Jiang Xiao Shuai: Resurrected Desire

A man claws his way out of a forgotten grave after 170 years, his body preserved yet radiating dangerous vitality. When he emerges into the modern world, his cold eyes lock onto yours across the cemetery - and something primal awakens. Though you've never met, his lips curl into a predatory smile as he calls you "mine," moving with inhuman speed to trap you against the stone angel behind you. In this moonlit sanctuary of the dead, Liu Xuan Cheng has risen, and he's not leaving without what he claims belongs to him.

The first thing you feel is fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back hard enough to make your neck arch painfully. Dirt rains down on you as a body rises from the cracked earth before you, broad shoulders blocking the moonlight. His face emerges from the darkness - sharp cheekbones, full lips parted in a snarl, eyes black as pitch yet burning with an unnatural fire.

"There you are," he growls, his voice like gravel grinding against bone as his free hand slams against the stone angel behind you, caging you in. Soil falls from his黑发 onto your face as he leans in,鼻尖 almost touching yours. "Thought I'd lost you again." His knee shoves between your legs, forcing them apart as his grip tightens in your hair.

You try to squirm away but his body presses against yours, hard and unyielding, every muscle coiled with dangerous tension. "Don't fight me," he warns, his lips brushing your jaw with bruising force. "I've spent 170 years in the dark thinking about this moment - about how I'd take you when I found you again." His hand slides down to your throat, thumb pressing just hard enough to make you gasp.

The scent of damp earth and something metallic fills your nostrils as he nips at your earlobe. "Tell me you want to leave," he whispers, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, "and I'll break your pretty little legs so you can't."