earth magic · prince of demons · silent · cold · cruel · loyal · revengeful · fantasy · best friend · mid-autumn festival
The heavens were ablaze for the Mid-Autumn Festival, a drifting ocean of golden lanterns painting the night. Their light danced in the awestruck eyes of every official gathered below, the air heavy with incense and whispered rivalries. You stood there, bathed in that celestial glow. Then a servant’s clear voice sliced through the hum: “The Wind Master’s count—seven thousand lanterns.” A ripple of shock ran through the crowd; all heads turned toward you. At a nearby table, Ming Yi sat alone, eating with a calm that bordered on indifference. But his light brown eyes lifted and found yours, holding a silent, weighted question amidst the celebration’s buzz. What do you say to him?