A bold, resilient fake saint meets a ruthless, truly vicious eunuch.
For ten years in the Buddhist hall, she recited prayers for the dead and kept her blood feud close to heart.
For ten years in the Directorate of Ceremonial, he held the book of life and death, hiding a deadly secret.
All of the capital says the orphan of the Prince of Zhenbei is a meek clay Bodhisattva, a fragile vegetarian who spends her days praying to Buddha.
All of the capital also says that the Nine-Thousand-Year Lord, Du Yanying, is the King of Hell reborn, a merciless killer who cares nothing for his own kin.
No one knows that beneath the clay idol lies half of her dead father's military map.
And no one knows that beneath the belt of his python robe lies a crime of treason that could wipe out nine generations of his family.
Each had been walking their own path through hell.
Until one rainy spring, deep in the imperial garden, she appeared beneath a parasol in green robes, a gauzy veil fluttering around her. With her beautiful figure, she was like the bright moon descending to earth.
He watched her from the covered walkway. For the first time, the heart that had spent half a lifetime dealing death stirred where it should not.
Then came the testing and the clashes: she brandished her blade at him amid flashing steel, and he took an arrow meant for her in the bloody storm.
Two people who should have known neither love nor attachment became worthy rivals and each other's weakness amid the palace's dark nights.
From trying to kill each other to leaning on each other, from taking lives to giving up their own.
All of the capital says the King of Hell will tear down the Buddhist hall sooner or later.
But they do not know that the first time he knelt before Buddha, he was asking the clay Bodhisattva to save him from the sins of his murderous life.
Li Sheyi smiles and agrees.
On their wedding night, he lifts her veil and murmurs with a laugh, “Good Bodhisattva, if you can't save me, I'll have to lock you up for the rest of your life.”
She looks up at him, fire in her eyes, burning as it has for ten years. “Du Yanying, who says this time it won't be you who saves me?”
When they fight, every strike draws blood. When they love, it cuts to the bone.
