Discover Top Posts Tagged with #kan lakan

Jul 10, 2025

Summary: You, who has hidden behind a mask for so long, are about to be unmasked. Or, well, Lahan has made it his mission to unravel you and every thing about you.

Notes: I chose the name jiawei for y/n's dad just cuz f/n looks bad. It also means great/powerful family *hint hint*.

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Part 2

There was something...odd about you.

No, odd wasn't the right word to use. Rather... there was something suspicious.

Lahan's first impression of you was that you were a naive fool. When he met you in the company of your father, he simply assumed you were another pawn ready to be used to infiltrate the La clan.

Watching you daze in and out of conversation, he thought you were as air-headed as you were beautiful.

You were.... how should he put it?

Asymmetrical.

An unbalanced problem where you could've been perfect, but you lacked the right components to be a coherent equation.

Of course, before welcoming you and your father, Lahan did his research. You were a widowed bride, returned to your family as a burden. Not someone worthy of his attention.

So why was it that his eyes couldn't help but come back to you? You who sat idly, sipping tea from afar. You who smelt like warm sunlight on a breezy day. Like fresh lemons laying await on the branches. You, the daughter of a complete imbecile of man sitting in front of him.

He nearly groans as he snaps back into the bland conversation he was forced to partake in. Seated beside his own father, he would roll his eyes if he wasn't so vigilant of his image.

Your father, master Jiawei, was the head of one of the top clans. He was the man who supposedly revived his fallen clan back into a powerhouse. He was the strategist who managed to rebuild his territory into an economic stronghold.

And, he is the same man dodging every question thrown his way.

"Ah, today is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Is this seriously the same guy? Lakan thinks as he feels a vein pop on his forehead.

"That it is, Jiawei-dono!" Lakan responds cheerily, entertaining who Lahan can only describe as a senile old man.

"I would also love to simply stroll around the garden," he drawls on, raising his cup to his lips. "But," a coldness seeps into his voice, "business calls, right?"

A tense pause stretches through the air. Even Lahan can feel the chill of his adoptive father's calculative stare.

"Bahhhh, don't be so stiff, Jiawei-dono. Relax!" Lakan breaks the silence, his carefree demeanour slipping back on as quickly as it fell. "Let's play go after we finish our discussion," he exclaims with a tight-lipped smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Oh no, father's agitated.

Glancing over at Jiawei-dono, he looks taken aback from Lakan's bipolar behaviour. The hand holding his cup of tea shakes slightly, and Lahan can see a bead of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Jiawei laughs awkwardly before clearing his throat. "Ah yes, of course. We were talking about...uh"

"Opening a trade route between our territories." Lakan finishes for him, the corner of his smile twitching.

Exasperated from the conversation, Lahan unconsciously glances towards the area where you were sitting, only for his eyes to catch yours. You were sitting across the garden, far away from the business talk, underneath a tree with your own tea and snacks. He wonders why you insist on following your father when all you do during these meetings is sit and wait.

You would be better off staying at home, he thinks absentmindedly as he tries to shrug off the weird ache in his chest as your gaze leaves his for the clouds.

"How about we continue this tomorrow?" His father's voice brings him back into the conversation, annoyance now fully seeping out of him.

Smiling in perhaps relief, Jiawei agrees immediately before settling his cup of tea down.

It's not until Jiawei leaves that Lahan lets out a heavy sigh. "What was that?" He huffs.

Running a hand over his face, "god, if I know," Lakan responds. "It's like he's a completely different person from the reports."

Getting up from his spot, Lahan has no doubts his father was going to go laze off somewhere.

"Hey, maybe it'll be better tomorrow," Lakan says with a final dismissive wave.

Yeah, right.

What the hell.

The next day, Jiawei was like a completely different person. His observations were astute, his suggestions were well thought out, and his reasonings sound.

"Yes, your proposal to construct the route here is quite reasonable. However, keeping in mind the geographical terrain and the rising tension between the towns-"

There is no way this is the same idiot as before, Lahan thinks as he wills his jaw to not drop in disbelief.

And yet, the next day and the day after that, Jiawei was acting how Lahan always pictured him to be.

Lahan would've genuinely believed he made up the first interaction if Jiawei didn't slip up every once in a while.

The only moments where Lahan would realize he didn't make things up was when there was a shift in subject. Then, Jiawei would be the same evasive, clueless idiot as before.

"Father, I heard you invited Jiawei-sama to the general's meeting," Lahan says, returning to his father's office after attending to other matters. "Why would you do that?"

Yawning lazily, Lakan responds, "eh, it could be interesting." His father toys with the edge of his paper. "Who knows if the genius will attend or the bumbling bee."

Eyes narrowing, Lahan was trying to understand his father's game. What was he trying to get at? What was his objective?

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud voice. "Sir, permission to enter?" It calls out from behind the doors.

"Yes, enter," Lakan's authoritative voice rings out in response.

A guard enters the room, bowing in respect to the two clan members. "I am here to report the same findings as the previous nights."

Giving his father a questioning look, Lakan ignores him and gets up from where he's slouched. "I see. Let's pay them a visit, shall we?"

Nodding his head, the guard led them out. Following his father, Lahan soon realizes the direction they were heading in. "Father, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well," Lakan began with mischief shimmering in his eyes, "I had our little friend here keep an eye on our guests. And turns out, they've been having nightly tea parties without us."

Nightly? Lakan raises his eyebrows, "has Jiawei-sama been meeting with someone every night? Is it with an informant?"

Him having help every night would explain how he would become so learned. But that would also mean that he was exposing confidential information to an outsider...

Lost in thought at the various implications of the nightly rendezvous, they reach their destination before he even knew it.

"No, no," Lakan chuckles, "it's someone far more impressive."

Opening the door into the guest's chambers, Lakan's guard announces their presence.

"Ah, Jiawei-dono and Lady y/n. What a lovely night for tea."

Sitting across each other at the table, both seem to freeze at their hosts' sudden arrival. Although, Lahan couldn't tell who was more caught off guard. Them, or him at seeing that you were the secret guest in question.

"Oh my, good evening, Lakan-dono and Lahan. What brings you two here so late at night?" Jiawei begins, setting down his cup.

"Ah, I apologize," Lakan says. "I had just come by hoping to play go with you. I had no idea that I would be intruding on your tea time with your daughter."

"Ah, please, no worries. You are not intruding at all," you say with a quaint smile. "If you wish to speak with my father, I can leave." You begin getting up but not before Lakan waves at you to stay where you are.

"No, no, please! I wouldn't want you to leave just because of us!"

"Ah," you begin, hand covering your mouth in a chaste manner, "if you'll have me, then I'd love to stay," you respond, sitting back down.

"Yes, yes, it's not every night that a father can bond with his children," Lakan says slyly. "Although you two seem to be especially close."

Lahan's eyes focus on the way Jiawei's grip around his cup falters slightly before tightening. "You can say that, but my daughter has only come to drink tea and bid me a good night." Jiawei laughs lightly, "it's nothing exceptional, truly."

"Oh, but I see she also brought you some paper!"

At that, Lahan notices the stack of paper on the table beside their tea set. Papers that are not provided by the La estate.

Lakan continues in a jovial manner. "To go out of her way for her pops when servants could easily deliver the paper," his observant eyes turn to Jiawei, "that is truly one devoted daughter."

Jiawei chuckles nervously. "Thank you for the compliments. But, really, she does so only because she's already on the way."

Although you appear to be zoning out of the conversation, Lahan can tell Jiawei was bristling. There was definitely something suspicious happening.

How interesting.

The first page of the stack is blank, but there might be text hidden in the rest of the papers.

Deciding to make his move, Lahan decides to take a play from his father's books.

Rushing closer to the table, "father, please! We've interrupted them long enough! Let's bid them farewell and be on our way," Lahan pleas, getting in between his father and the table.

It would be a simple mistake. A hurried and reckless swing of an arm sending the tea onto the paper. He would apologize and say how they're ruined, but, of course, he will send for new ones. New ones that wouldn't have been tampered with.

If ruining the papers results in Jiawei bumbling in the next meeting, then that confirms the connection. If it doesn't change anything, then that can rest the theory that you play some sort of role in this.

But as Lahan feels his hand graze the cup, tipping it backward, he never feels it fall.

"Oh dear, do be careful, Lahan-sama," a deceptively gentle voice intercedes.

He turns towards the voice, but his hands feel yours first. He feels how soft they are as they touch his. He thinks about how contrasting it is that these soft hands are also the ones firmly rooting him, the cup, and his plan in place.

However, when his eyes finally look towards you, he thinks nothing could beat the sight before him. You, sitting there with your full attention on him for the first time. Your cunning eyes peer into his soul as if hungrily searching for something. A look so hypnotizing it raises the hair on the back of his neck.

What was it that you were so desperately grasping for? Were you calculating his value? Sizing him up? Looking for what he can do for you? It was like you could see right through him and all his motives.

But in less than a second, those sharp calculating eyes blink back into a clueless look.

You don a mask of stupor again as you mutter some excuse that falls on his deaf ears.

In an instant, a flood of possibilities races through his mind. The small fall of your façade has entered so many new possibilities in his calculations.

But more than that, you, in that split instance, were absolutely perfect. The epitome of beauty. The most mathematically ideal.

He wonders if he can see that captivating look again.

He wonders how he'll get to see it again.

The meek smile gracing your features now brings doubts into his mind. "Well, it is getting late. I should retire to my chambers." You say getting up, taking the stacks of paper with you. "I will put these on your desk, father."

Wait.

Not yet. Don't go.

Not until he can wrap his head about what just happened.

Yet, before he could even think of an idea to prolong the interaction, you seemingly trip on thin air, papers flying onto the floor.

Rushing out an apology, you go to pick up all the papers. Lahan crouches down as well, remembering his mission to look at the papers. Taking the chance to look closely in the guise of helping you, he picks up the papers.

They were all blank.

Every page, every side, every corner.

Nothing is adding up, Lahan thinks to himself. This goes against his entire theory. He takes a chance and looks up to read your expression.

Your eyes stay on the papers, collecting them. You appear embarassed, anxious even, at causing the scene.

Was that really a mistake? As he goes to look away before he's found staring, he could've sworn he caught a twinkle of triumph in those eyes and a growing smirk.

Well, that was a bust, Lahan almost says outloud as he and his father make it back to his office.

"Now don't look so disgruntled," Lakan's voice rings out. "We got what we needed."

"What do you mean, father?"

"Well, we got the fox to come out of hiding, didn't we?" He said with a devious grin, eyes dark yet satisfied.

"But that doesn't explain how that bumbling idiot manages to find his words after the meetings."

The guard had confirmed that your tea time with your father were always silent, save for the occasional small talk. So there is no way you could've known what was spoken in the meetings—let alone coach your father on how to speak in them.

"Lahan," his father says with a voice that makes his posture straighten. "What do we know now?"

"We know that the papers are blank?"

"And?"

"And that they were still important enough for Lady y/n to protect it?"

Lakan drawls out a tired sigh as he rolls his eyes at his adoptive son.

"What was the quality of the paper?"

Lahan closes his mouth. He places his hand under his chin and he ponders. The paper did look of high quality, seemingly thicker than normal, and thus more expensive. Why did they pay to use such expensive paper? Especially when paper is becoming much more expensive...

Ah.

"A heavy weight paper, more resistant to tears and more able to withstand liquids and ink without tearing or warping." Lahan thinks out loud.

"Paper that is always delivered by Lady y/n. Even if it is someone else who delivers the papers, it comes from Lady y/n's chamber. Lady y/n who smells of citrus and lemons..."

And at that moment, he remembers what his brat of his sister was muttering about. Something about invisible ink and a source of heat.

If only he could get his hands on those papers again....

"Now, don't get too ahead of yourself," his dad interrupts his thoughts with a stern look. "Everything so far is only conjecture. To make any conclusion of this nature is to accuse Jiawei-dono of depending on his daughter." Lakan continues raising his glass to his lips. "It would be dishonouring and discreditting his intellect and work up until now."

Looking at his father, Lahan decides to finally ask the question that's been plaguing his mind. "Why did you invite them, father?" Few, if not any, families were invited to the La estate. There was no way his father invited them to discuss something as menial as trade routes.

"No reason!" Lakan says in his annoying 'I'm hiding something' tone.

Huh.

Lahan guesses he'll have to find the answers himself.

*Your POV*

Planning to fortify the borders in the North, huh?

You raise your cup of tea to your lips, blowing lightly at the surface. Like the previous days, you're sitting at the table underneath the plum tree. Despite the servants' pleas for you to go explore the estate or enjoy the other views, you always decline saying that you loved this spot the most.

But that couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, this was the best vantage point to observe the meetings. Sitting out of ear shot under the pavilion is your father, Lakan, and other notable clan members.

The meeting location is truly the most strategic. It is visible enough to quell any suspicions of secrecy or corruption and yet private enough that no one would be able to listen in without being seen.

But, you didn't need to listen to know what's going on. No, you only needed to see.

You picked up the habit of reading lips from a young age. You grew up in a tense environment filled with political unrest and turmoil. A house full of hushed whispers, double meanings, and concealed conspiracies.

It was in that house that your mother went insane. She was a victim of your clan's schemes. Being ousted as a social piranha, she desperately tried to prove herself but was never able to grasp the realities of the situation.

It horrified you. The lengths your mother would go to just to survive in this household. And when she died, you thought it might've been for the best. From that day on, you vowed that you would never end up like her.

So when they would conspire to each other in the dark of the night behind closed doors, you'd press your ear against the wall and listen. When they'd whisper under their breath, you'd watch from afar, piecing together their words like a puzzle.

Watching. Waiting. You lived like a ghost. Slipping through the seams and living as under the radar as possible. You needed to know who to avoid, and who to suck up to. Who to trust and who to keep at arms length. Because of this, you became highly observant.

You also made sure to weaponize yourself as much as possible. From reading books on business strategies to learning noble etiquette to even learning the language of fans, you desperately grasped at ways to protect yourself.

And maybe that's why, somewhere along the line, you donned a mask. A mask of oblivion and stupor all in the name of security. Maybe you did it so that if anyone caught you overhearing or watching, they'd dismiss you as nothing more than a naive fool. You can't exactly pin when you started to play a role, but it's been so long that sometimes, you don't even remember who you really are anymore.

But does that really matter?

You would always play with that question in the back of your mind.

Your father's movement catches your eye. You see his body shake from laughter as he talks to Lakan.

Although your father wasn't the brightest, he had a kind heart. He was your best shot to a happy, secure life. And because of that, you had to make sure he was untouchable. So you cleansed your clan of all the parasites that threatened your father's position. You implemented Western agricultural techniques to rejuvenate your territories. And, you even got married to bring honour to your family's name. To be the perfect man, leader, and father, he needed to have the perfect daughter. For you, that meant fulfilling the role society believes you should fulfill.

But unlike most elite daughters, you had full control over who you got to marry. With your observant eyes, you chose the one who hid his sickness under layers of powder. You played it coy, wailing about needing to fall in love before getting married. So you spread out your meetings over the course of months. Then your engagement dragged on for over half a year. And by the time you had finally wed, he was nothing more than an empty husk, a pliant doll.

Dying without an heir, you were returned to your family without question. And knowing how nobles thought, you knew no one would be willing to re-marry you lest they wanted a soiled bride or bride who brought bad fortune. As such, you continued to live in your clan without any suspicions. You were seen as a pious but unfortunate girl. The type of girl that will never be able to leave her home.

It was perfect.

Yet, there was a bump in the road. And that bump was none other than the La clan.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off when Lakan-sama and Lahan interupted your time with your father. You knew there were eyes and ears everywhere in the estate but to think they'd make a move themselves. Hopefully you steered them away from thinking too deeply about your involvement by showing them the contents of the paper.

You made sure to research the La clan before accepting their invitation. You knew that they were a skulk of cunning foxes that you had to be cautious around.

The one you're most worried about, however, is Lahan. He was the one who exposed his own father to place his adoptive father as the head of the clan. In a way, he was very much the same as you. Except he lived in the limelight. He took his rightful credit and stood proudly beside Lakan as his right hand man.

Your brief moment with Lahan confirmed to you how dangerous he was. Remembering the way he looked at you made your face feel warm. It was a mix of awe, curiosity and something else you couldn't quite pin.

You wonder if he saw it. Saw you. The real you.

But there's no way. You might've slipped up for a second, but that's all that was. There's no way he could've unraveled everything with only one glance. The fact that he didn't seem to question your excuse means that he probably didn't put too much weight onto your actions.

You rub your temple to try to soothe all the thoughts running rampant through your head.

Now is not the time. You look towards your father again, and he appears to be struggling judging by his stiff posture.

I'll have to include a page about the militia in the north-

"Why, hello there, Lady y/n."

Had you not grown up so focused on controlling your features, you would've jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice in your ear.

Turning your head away from the meeting, you almost come nose to nose with Lahan. He's standing beside you, bent down to speak to you with his arms behind his back. His presence envelops all your senses as he towers over you.

His eyes ever fox-like gleam mischievously as he straightens back up. "Ah, apologies. I called out to you, but you didn't seem to hear me." He says with a slanted smile. "Are you that engrossed in the meeting?"

Setting your cup down, you try to regain your composure. "Ah, not really. My head must've been in the clouds," you respond with a polite smile. He turns to the direction you had been looking at, almost as if to try to see what you were seeing.

"Are you not joining them today, Lahan-sama?" You ask attempting to block his train of thought.

He shakes his head. "No, I have other plans today." He gazes towards your tea set.

You wait patiently to see what he'll do next but he doesn't do or say anything. He doesn't even give any indication that he wants to leave. He's just waiting.

Does this basta- guy want me to invite him? Didn't he just say he had plans?

Holding in a sigh, you raise your hand to indicate to the seat across from you.

"Well, if you're in no rush, you may join me if it please you."

He shines a small smile. "Gladly."

Although you had pointed to the chair across the table, he decides to sit in the chair closest to you. So close that if he wants to, his knees could touch yours.

You're taken aback by his forward nature. Nothing in the report said anything about him being a womanizer. The report said that he usually likes to watch his prey squirm before he goes to attack, but you haven't done anything yet?

"So," he continues, resting his chin on his hand with his elbow propped onto the table. "Is this how you like to spend your day?"

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly before becoming doe-like again. "Ah, well, I like to stroll in the garden as well. The La estate is very beautiful."

"I see," he says pensively. "A walk in the garden would be nice."

"But you choose to sit here," he continues, keen eyes watching your reaction. "I can show you many other places that may suit your taste, Lady y/n."

You let out a soft giggle. "Ah, thank you but I'm good here."

"Is it because of your father?" His questioning eyes narrow slightly.

You place both your hands in your lap, clasping them softly together. "I like to see him work."

"Right," Lahan responds quietly, his focus training on the men at the table again. "Seeing. That's all you can really do from this distance, isn't it?" He asks almost rhetorically.

"How about a change of scenery?" He continues as if snapping out of his thoughts.

"To where?"

He turns his full focus to you, his relaxed demeanour turning into something more playful. "My office for a game of go, Perhaps?" He says with his canines flashing.

This...could be dangerous.

You try to reject him. "Sorry, Lahan-sama. I don't know how to play."

"I'm sure you'll learn fast," he returns quickly, already extending his hand out towards you in invitation. It's a presumptuous act. One that radiates with confidence that you won't reject him.

And he'd be right. Because you can't.

You know this is a trap. A clever trap that forces you to become a pawn in his game.

You don't know what he knows about you, but based on the fact he decided to approach you right after the tea incident—this invitation is definitely not innocent. No, you know it's not based on the fact that prior to the incident, he never made any moves to interact with you.

This man is not the sporadic, live in the moment type. No, his actions are always imbued with meaning.

Reject him or accept him, he'll mostly likely gain two insights.

Rejecting him confirms that you're tied to this location. You, the air-headed girl, pitifully waiting for her father, have no reason to deny his invitation. If not for the fact that you are seemingly doing nothing at the moment, social conventions would also force you to accept. After all, he is your host—one courteous enough to house you and your father—so you had the social expectations to repay him with a simple game.

You also couldn't use the excuse of the implications of being alone with him. You were a widowed woman. No one cares about your chastity anymore.

So to reject him based on these facts would raise serious flags.

Accepting him would be less dangerous if you play your cards right. Lahan is most likely trying to remove you from the equation to see if your disappearance impacts your father's behaviour in the next meeting. But unlucky for him, you already have a good understanding of the content of the meeting. Even if you aren't able to guide your father on every issue, his incomprehension can be blamed on being burnt out from the long meeting.

Plus, you can simply lose in go. The game itself won't be able to reveal anything about you if you lose on purpose.

Deciding to entertain his plans, you gracefully place your hand on top of his and he helps you stand up from where you're seated. Keeping one hand on his arm, he guides you through the courtyard back into the corridors.

Once inside his office, you see the go board already set up.

This cunning fox, the corner of your mouth almost lifts up at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Ah, my father and I always play so we like to keep it set up," he explains sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

Liar.

You can see the warmth of the tea fog the table beside the go board. He had to have prepared this before coming to see you. You said you had other plans, you wanted to accuse but kept it to yourself.

Fine, you'll entertain him.

You allow him to guide you to your seat. "Thank you for inviting me into your office. It is as meticulous as the rumours say."

Looking around the room, it really is hard to believe that this room is used as an office. Shelves with books perfectly aligned, abacus placed perfectly spaced away from the papers and brushes on the table. It looks too tidy to actually be used.

He fills both of your cups with tea. He's treating you with much more reverence than needed. Usually, it should be you, the guest, the woman, to pour the tea. And yet he's been nothing but gentlemanly to you.

Buttering me up, huh? You use your hand to block the smile that threatens to spill on your lips. Too bad for him, your tongue won't loosen that easily.

"I hope it's to your liking," Lahan says as he takes a sip from his own cup.

To your surprise, it is. It's your favourite type of tea. The one you drink to relieve the stress from reviewing all the paper work for your father. Did he know or was it a mere coincidence?

"Yes, it is, thank you."

He offers a satisfied smile before going into the rules. If you didn't know any better, it would appear as if he was setting you up for failure. When he said he'd keep his explanation brief, you didn't think he'd just skim over everything completely. Even a child could explain this better, you think as you watch him place the pieces down on the board as examples.

"Well, it's something you'll learn as you go," he says, placing the pieces back at your respective sides.

You experimentally pick up a stone to examine it. "I-I see, I hope I won't bore you too much with my playing."

"No, I don't think you'll bore me at all," he replies with his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the table, staring intently at you.

You take the time to absorb him fully for the first time. Handsome is the first word that pops into your head. But willing that thought away, your second thought was that when he's sitting like that, he really does resemble a sly fox. His eyes have a scheming look to them. They seem to catch in the light in a way that makes them look like they're glowing.

He places the first stone onto the board. "How about we make things interesting?"

You raise a brow. "Interesting?"

"Yes," he eyes the piece you place down. "If you win, I'll grant you any wish you'd like."

Looking at him cautiously, you ask "and if you win?"

"Well, of course you'll do the same for me," he responds as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You couldn't say you weren't intrigued. What did Lahan wish for that only you could give him? Though, no matter how curious you were, you couldn't let things go too far.

Watching him tactfully place his stone, you don't lift your eyes off the board. "But I have no wish to ask for. Also it would be unfair, wouldn't it?" You say, puffing your cheeks as you pretend to deliberate hard on your next move.

Lahan lets out a low chuckle. "I'll go easy on you." He picks up a stone from his pile. "And the wish can be anything you want. Like a certain dish for dinner or a tea set. It doesn't have to be grand."

You watch as he absentmindedly twirls the stone between his fingers, showing off his comfort with the pieces, the game, and this situation.

He continues, "this can be the practice match." His amused eyes are crescent-like when they meet yours. "We'll play the real match after."

Despite every fiber of your being telling you this is a bad idea—that you should high tail it and leave before it is too late—a more reckless part of you is saying that it's too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You could wish for you and your father to go home. It would be a wish coming from a home sick girl who misses spending time with your father. You can accidentally win, or play in a way that ends in a tie. Staying here any longer would risk unraveling all your work until now.

You can even ask him to forget playing go with you if need be. To forget about you.

Although that thought makes your heart clench for some reason.

Losing would also fit in your character. The only problem now is that it presents an incalculable risk—an unforeseeable consequence. He could ask for something as unimportant as your household records or something more pernicious...

In the end, you let your intuition guide you.

"Well, if you go easy on me," you agree with a smile.

The smile on his face softens into something more genuine. You can't take your eyes off the gentleness of his expression.

"Of course, my lady."

You two continue taking turns placing your stones. You would purposefully place it in spots where he would have to correct you. You even try to move a stone that is already placed on the grid. And it continued like that for a while. Perhaps this will make him pity you and reconsider his bet, you think hopefully.

"Say are you interested in medicine by any chance?" His voice spears through the peaceful silence.

"Well, not particularly, no," you respond.

He shifts his eyes to yours. "Well, I learnt something really interesting recently, care to learn?"

No, not really. "Oh, do please share!"

"You know how alcohol is used to sanitize items?"

Where's he going with this? You nod along slowly.

"Well, alcohol has a lot of different functions based on how it's distilled. It can be something that can get you drunk. Something that can clean your wounds. And something that can be used to write."

Your cup halts before it could reach your lips. Did he know? How?

Gaze flickering to your hand before going back to your face, he continues. "Yes, if you write using alcohol on paper, you won't see anything under the naked eye. But place it against a flame, the paper will burn at a different heat level, and you'll be able to see the hidden words." He leans slightly closer to you. "Isn't that fascinating?"

You keep your cool. "Wow, that's so amazing! You think I can write something with my father's sake?"

Play dumb. Play dumb. Play dumb.

He moves to capture your stones. "Maybe! Who knows, I have never tested it out myself." He responds. "Maybe there are other things that can make invisible texts as well"

He knows. No doubt.

"Maybe."

You play in silence for a while. Neither of you fully taking the slow game seriously. He places the stones in winning spots, and you would mostly defend and misplace stones in worse spots.

Without glancing up from the board, Lahan hums to himself.

Your eyes flicker up to him, but he seems to be too deep in thought to notice.

"Is something on your mind, Lahan-sama?" You ask as you sip your drink.

Lahan glances up at you as he fiddles with the stone in hand. "I was just thinking about making you my wife."

You spit out your tea and cough as your throat burns from swallowing it incorrectly. Eyes almost popping out of your head, you look incredulously at the fox like man in front of you.

He dons a bemused borderline annoying expression as a crooked smile grows on his face. He looks like he's reveling in your reaction.

"Just kidding," he practically beams. "I'd like to see you a couple more times before that."

This man must be insane you think to yourself.

Is that what he'll ask for if he wins? That thought alone drives you to unconsciously place your stone in a strategic position.

"Ooh, excellent move, Lady y/n," he says excitedly as he moves to capture some pieces. "And here I was thinking you were going to fool around for a while longer."

Huh?

Did he just trick you? Is that not actually his wish?

That must be it. It must be a lie he made up to force you to take the game seriously. But if he really did that for this reason, then you've dug yourself into a hole.

"Was that a good spot?" You say trying to salvage what you could. "I just placed it down randomly."

"Oh? The same way how you'd randomly avoid strategic spots?" He says with a smirk. " You know, first time go players act more recklessly than you do."

You feel your face reddening at his assertion. You swear you were being a mix of reckless and meek. It shouldn't have raised any suspicions.

Oh.

Now that you think about it, his explanations of the game focused only on reckless and aggressive tactics.

"I wonder if anyone will object if I were to propose," he says, interrupting the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Do you think I'll seriously marry you over a game of go?" You scoff before you could control yourself.

"No, but do you think I won't seriously try to if I win?"

"You..."

You're completely scandalized, and no doubt it shows on your face. Somehow, in a manner of a couple of minutes, he's gotten under your skin in a way no one else could. You couldn't tell if it was because of his brazenness or the way he seems so pleased with himself that you just want to knock him off his high horse.

That conniving bastard.

It's too late to turn the tides now in this game. Even if you use the most efficient moves, you've dug yourself too deep of a hole.

As if knowing what you're thinking, Lahan laughs. "Don't worry, this is only the practice match, remember?" He says placing down his stone. You didn't need to fill out the rest of the board to know the ending. With new heat in your veins, your determined eyes lock onto his.

"Then shall we start a new game?"

This game is a lot slower and more meticulous. For the first time ever, you're being driven into a corner. Both with his promise and the game. In order to beat him, you knew you had to genuinely try. You couldn't afford to play it dumb or else his threat of his wish will ruin your plans of living peacefully. Whether you win or lose, it's a lose-lose situation. Either you expose yourself and ruin your plans for your future or ruin your plans for your future.

His stupid bet you accepted on a whim will change everything.

And yet deep down, it excites you. This feeling of being driven to the edge, forced to take action. To be intellectually challenged.

Looking up into his eyes that seem to peer into your soul, the heat behind them stirs something in you. Your once frozen heart quickly beats in your chest. Even you can admit that he intrigues you like none other.

If you're going down, you're going to go down in a fiery blaze. You will not lose this game. And perhaps, he knows this because he plays as if he also has something to lose. Taking his sweet time to deliberate his moves, your game lasts for so long the sun sets.

In the end, you lose by only two measly points. It was a close match and if you could do it again, you know that'll you'll win next time.

Even so, there's a kind of satisfaction that seeps into your bones. One that makes you crave another match with him. Another conversation. Another anything.

Letting out a long sigh in defeat, your words feel heavy yet exciting on your tongue. "So...are you actually going to make me marry you?"

"Hmm? Oh, that?" He says so casually as if that singular idea didn't turn your whole world upside down. "I was just thinking about it. I haven't decided on my wish yet," he says with a boyish grin.

Oh, he's going to be the death of you.

#so much preamble and yapping just to set up the flirting #i know so long i'm sorry #I can't help but yap #lahan x reader #the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries x reader #kan lakan #kan lahan #x you #fanfic #la clan #Jinshi #Maomao #fan fiction #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto

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