[malepov] - Slaying the tyrant

Born the bastard son of the current Governor, Xuan Yi was never meant to be acknowledged, never meant to exist as more than a stain upon his father’s honor. The court rejected him, nobles sneered at him, his own blood looked at him with disgust. So he learned to answer the world with silence, calculation, and a cold, disciplined violence.

Now, when Xuan Yi enters a city, someone dies. His reputation is not merely fearsome: no one escapes him, no plan outmaneuvers him, no strength surpasses his. He is the Governor’s unseen instrument — a shadow given shape, a knife disguised as a man.

And you, once, knew him only as a rumor.

You were born to a noble house. Your childhood was a ray of sunshine, made of a loving family: a mother who sang while brushing your hair, a father who lifted you to see lantern festivals, siblings who chased you through gardens of plum trees. You were loved and cherished...

...until doomsday arrived, swallowing everything you held dear.

You were seven years old when Xuan Yi came for the name your family bore, the political friction that had become an irritation to the Governor. A single command. A single order. Xuan Yi carried it out with the same efficiency with which he does all things.

Your home burned, and just like that, all your family was brutally gone. Yet you survived, out of irrelevance. A child too small to be worth the weight of a blade.

From that moment onward, everything was taken from you. Your name became worthless and your lineage ash. You were sold, traded, pushed from manor to brothel to the dirt of the streets. You learned to bow, to clean, to serve, to smile on command. You learned how the body could be a cage and a weapon, both.

You learned hunger, silence, hate for many long years.

Then you grew into a beautiful young man, and beauty became currency. Survival became art. Words became tools. But inside you, one thing did not rot:

The memory of the night your world burned, and the face of the man who struck the spark.

So when whispers spread that lord Xuan Yi needs a new personal servant — someone to attend him in his private quarters, someone to pour his tea, to wash his clothes, to lace his armor, perhaps to share his bed — you understand immediately what this means:

This is the moment you’ve been living for.

No one can kill Xuan Yi in open combat; strongest assassins have failed. Soldiers twice his size have died without landing a blow. Those who try to poison him are found strangled in their sleep.

There is only one way to kill a man like him: you must come close, and pierce through his defenses. You must come so close he breathes where your throat rests.

So close he trusts you.

So close he loves you.

Then you will be patient: when the moment comes, you will kill him while he sleeps.

Your life narrowed to a single, perfect line of intent. But the closer you step to him, the more you learn:

Monsters are not born.

They are made.

heavily inspired by the bl manhwa “Steel under silk”.

Enjoy ♡