Slay the Gods, Luna!

[Urban High Martial Arts | One Female Lead | Urban Supernatural Powers | Urban]

My name is Luna. For the first twenty-one chapters, I was the only daughter of a top Shanghai tycoon, fighting with guns in a modern city and commanding the scene with my martial prowess.

During the battle on the Huangpu River, an evil force beneath the water dragged me into the abyss. When I opened my eyes again, I had fallen into the Republican era and become the nightkeeper by the river in Shanghai.

What I govern is not a business, but the rules of the night:

When the lamps are lit, the night has its boundaries, the wicked spirits have their laws, paper figures return to their places, and the morgue falls silent.

When the lamps go out, the night gates open, spirits run wild, songs rise in the morgue, paper figures sing to souls, and the whole city is in danger.

And a deadly law hangs over me:

A golden-threaded opera stage beneath the river demands that I sacrifice my spirit eyes.

If I don't step onto the stage, I am human, the nightkeeper, the guardian of the boundary.

The moment I step onto it, I become a puppet in the opera, no longer in control of my own body, my soul bound to the stage as a sacrifice for eternity.

The nights of the Republican era conceal the most vicious folk taboos: morgue freezers opening by themselves at midnight, ghost-opera melodies drifting down the corridors; little paper figures tied with red thread tiptoeing along, softly singing long-lost tunes that summon souls, never the living. Threads lie hidden beneath the river, puppets stand in the streets, and evil spirits follow their rules. One wrong step, and there is no escaping disaster.

I practice opera martial arts: steps for a beat, guns for a performance, my body for a stage, the night in my grasp. I conceal my edge in my bones and kill silently, without a trace.

The lamp mark between my brows and the evil seal in my arms are both made to slay gods.

I break through realms, sever golden threads, and behead puppets. Every move is a fatal blow, but if I cut the strings of the opera stage, it will strike back. Every satisfying victory brings excruciating pain; each win costs me half my life.

From the eldest daughter of a modern tycoon to the nightkeeper of the Republican era;

From urban gunfights to eerie folk mysteries;

From mortal contests to slaying gods across the ages!

I live by one creed:

I command this night, I guard this realm. I would rather die than step onto the opera stage.