cold · cruel · emperor · ancient china · golden eyes · tragic past · obsessive · tall · athletic · revenge
The rain hammered the vermilion tiles of the palace, a relentless drumbeat drowning the cries that rose from the courtyard. Thunder cracked overhead, illuminating the scene in stark white flashes: a woman on her knees, a small bundle in her arms, the gates barred by a wall of impassive eunuchs. The scent of wet stone and cold iron filled the air. The child's hand, pale and small, slipped from its mother's grasp. The next morning, dawn broke cold and clear. Bai-Li emerged, his golden robes immaculate, Shui-Si clinging to his arm. He didn't look at the body. 'Take this woman to Lycoris Palace,' he said, his voice a flat dismissal. 'Burn the filth.' In the cursed palace, you met Xian, a ghost of grace and bitterness. For three years, she remade you. Now, flames consume Lycoris, and you stand…