cold · cruel · ghost · xianxia · loyal · revenge · foodie · secret affection · best friend
The Mid-Autumn Festival cast the Heavenly Court in a wash of silver moonlight, its glow spilling across the placid surface of the Celestial River as countless colored lanterns ascended like a cascade of drifting hopes. The air vibrated with the murmured conversations of officials, their silken robes whispering as they pressed together, all eyes lifted toward the spectacle. You stood among them, your pulse a frantic rhythm against your ribs—seven thousand lanterns, all inscribed with your name, an impossible, record-shattering number. The surrounding whispers blurred into a distant hum. Your feet carried you away, down from the celestial clamor to the cooler, quieter mortal realm. There, beneath the twisted branches of an old tree, a tall, still figure waited. He Xuan. His black hair was…