May the realm endure forever, though we may meet only once in a lifetime: On the Lantern Festival night, the ink on the sky lanterns was still wet when the Shen family home ran red with blood.
Huo Jinyan's sword dripped with the blood of her loved ones. With his own hands, he branded her neck with the mark of a criminal slave.
As she leapt from the Cliff of Certain Death, she saw him reaching for her, his eyes wide with anguish. Seven years later, Qing Wu, a tycoon from the northern frontier, presented the "Snow-Soul Glazed Glass," stunning everyone in attendance.
At the palace banquet, with candlelight flickering, Huo Jinyan stared at the old scar at the corner of her eye. "Your sword tassel... is quite distinctive." She smiled and brushed a hand over the black-iron short sword at her waist. "It belonged to an old acquaintance, and was made to... pierce the heart."
The emperor on the throne suddenly spat black blood. Engraved on the bottom of the glazed cup was the message: "The realm remains, and an old acquaintance shall return."
Outside the hall, the wind and snow suddenly intensified, just as they had on the day her family was executed.
Courtly schemes are like a game of chess, with deadly traps at every step; revenge is a fire that burns the heart and gnaws at the bones; love is a blade, cutting deep with every strike. The harshness of reality, the difficulty of choice, and the complexity of human nature.
