She felt just a little guilty.
Because, okay—maybe she had used all her strength when she kicked him earlier.
And now that she was actually taking in his face…
Yeah. Regret.
The man looked like he had walked out of a dream.
Or a high-budget fantasy drama.
Tall. Refined. Almost unreal in how striking he was.
His long, dark hair cascaded past his shoulders, brushing against the intricate purple robe he wore. The flickering candlelight made his features look even sharper—his skin impossibly smooth, his lips slightly parted as if he had more to say.
Honestly, it was unfair.
How could someone look this good after being kicked?
And why did she have to kick first and ruin her first impression?
But no. She would not take the blame for this.
Even if he was stupidly handsome, she had her principles.
She wasn't going to just stand there and be accused of something ridiculous like stealing a candle.
If she let this go, what was next? Kidnapping him?!
At that thought, she violently shook her head.
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
Because if this were a novel… then a man this devastatingly beautiful could only mean one thing.
Big Martial artist
It was always like this!
Her instincts screamed DANGER.
Meanwhile, the man simply watched her, his gaze never wavering.
Then he let out a small sigh, brushing off his robe. His fingers moved gracefully, but there was a controlled precision to the way he did it—as if he were used to handling things with care.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was smooth, measured.
"Excuse me, Miss."
He wasn't raising his voice, yet it felt like he was slowly regaining control of the conversation.
"First of all, I did not make a sound because I have been standing here for quite some time."
His dark eyes flickered over her, assessing. "Secondly, I did not expect a young lady to be wandering around in such a place at this hour."
His expression didn't change, but there was something pointed about his words.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"
Divya suddenly felt like she was the one being scolded.
She narrowed her eyes. "I could say the same to you."
The man rubbed his temples, clearly irritated, before turning his sharp gaze toward Divya. His voice carried a mix of frustration and disbelief.
"Excuse me, but I am a man, you see. A man. And I'm walking this path at night because I know it well. You, on the other hand, a noble lady wandering around in darkness—don't you think there's something wrong with that?"
Instead of responding immediately, Divya just looked at him.
He was… beautiful.
For a so-called 3D man, he looked straight out of an illustration—chiselled features, striking eyes, and that ridiculous way the moonlight framed his face like he was the protagonist of some tragic love story.
Ah.
So this was why all those transmigrators she had read about in novels never wanted to go back home.
Looking at a face like this, even she had a fleeting, very fleeting thought—
No, no, no, stop right there!
Divya mentally slapped herself. What nonsense was creeping into her mind? She needed to get out of this situation, not entertain ridiculous daydreams about handsome men in fantasy worlds!
Shaking off the absurd thought, she narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms, irritation flaring up.
"Excuse me, what do you mean by 'lady' and 'man'? What, do you have three legs? Four legs? Do I walk on my hands?"
The man blinked. His expression shifted from annoyed to outright baffled.
Divya huffed, raising a hand and pointing at her own face.
"See? Two legs. Just like you." She stomped one foot on the ground for emphasis. "Which means I can walk wherever I want. Or do you think I need your permission to exist in the same space as you?"
She expected a sharp rebuttal. Maybe even another remark about her being a noble lady.
Instead, the man just stared at her.
And then—
"Pfft."
Was he—was he laughing at her?!
The man was completely dumbfounded.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead before covering his eyes for a brief moment, as if trying to make sense of the absurdity before him.
Damn it.
What kind of idiot was this woman?
He opened his eyes again, sharp and unreadable, but there was something else there—a flicker of intrigue, perhaps even amusement. His presence alone was enough to make people shrink back, yet she stood there, arms crossed, looking at him like he was the ridiculous one.
No one had ever dared to talk to him this way.
Well… there were some. But still.
A woman like her? A noble lady?
His lips parted, words dripping with irritation as he inhaled deeply, about to put her in her place.
"You—"
But before he could finish, his ears caught the sound of footsteps approaching.
His body stiffened for a fraction of a second. His sharp gaze flickered past Divya toward the source of the noise.
And then, just as quickly, his expression turned unreadable.
Silently, he took a step back, tilting his head slightly, his voice lowering into something more measured.
"It seems we have company."
Divya barely had time to react before she found herself pinned against the wall, a firm hand clamping over her mouth.
Her eyes widened in shock. What the hell?!
This was supposed to be one of those dramatic moments—like in those cliché romance novels—where the wind would conveniently tousle her hair, the dim moonlight would cast a soft glow, and the mysterious man would look down at her with smoldering intensity.
Instead… she was struggling to breathe.
Not only had this idiot covered her mouth, but her nose too!
She squirmed, trying to push him off, but he wasn't even paying attention to her. His sharp eyes darted around the alley, his focus entirely on something—or someone—else.
Divya's irritation flared. Excuse me?! Sir, I'm dying here!