The evening warm breeze filtered gently through the curtains; Tiān Jùn jolted upright, breath ragged, chest rising fast.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
"Why..." the voice from his dream still echoed, cracked and trembling.
"I have always loved you, but I've made up my mind."
It felt too real. Too close.
He barely had time to gather his thoughts when—
Knock, knock.
"Come in," he said, voice hoarse as he turned toward the door. He sat up.
"Jùn... Jùn!"
He froze.
There, standing in the doorway, was Mò Lián. Her eyes widened in disbelief before she sprinted toward him, crashing into his chest like a wave long held back.
She clung to him, her arms locked tight as though letting go would tear her soul in half.
"I didn't think you'd come... How did you find me?" she whispered, her voice cracking as she buried her face in the warm curve of his neck.
Tiān Jùn's breath dragged slowly, his fingers threading into her hair, tugging her closer.
"I missed you," he murmured, rough, the words trembling with hunger more than comfort.
Her chest shook with a soft sob, but her lips betrayed her—pressing fevered kisses to the hollow of his throat, to his jaw, to the scar at his cheek, until at last her mouth claimed his.
He pulled back a fraction, enough to let their gazes clash.
Her teeth caught her lower lip. "How... how did you even get here?"
"You want answers?" His thumb brushed her cheek, lingering. "Or just more of this?"
She said nothing, but the fire in her eyes screamed everything.
When he tried to rise, she trapped him with one daring motion—her leg hooked high around his waist. Not timid. Not asking. Claiming.
He froze, pupils flaring, then his hands slid down her spine, lower, until they gripped the curve of her ass. He lifted her effortlessly, holding her to him as if she were meant to fit there, against his chest, his heartbeat pounding through her.
Her breast pressed harder against his chest, the friction stealing her breath. Her lips grazed his ear, trembling but sultry.
"Put me down... Jùn," she breathed, the moan that followed betraying her plea.
His laugh came dark and jagged; his voice husky with restraint.
"You started this," he growled. "First, those eyes—hungry. Then your mouth. Now—" his grip tightened, pressing her body flush against his — "you expect me to let go when you're this soft?"
Footsteps thundered down the hallway.
Mò Lián stiffened.
"I... I didn't mean to—"
He devoured her words with his mouth, the kiss bruising, desperate, silencing her fear until only fire remained. Her pulse matched the rapid thunder of his. Then, with a flick of his fingers, the air shimmered—click. The lock sealed itself.
The world outside ceased to matter.
Outside, the familiar knock returned.
"Hey, Jùn!"
They both froze.
The old woman's voice rang out cheerfully as the door creaked open.
Tiān Jùn now sat calmly on the bed, his breathing controlled.
Mò Lián had hidden just behind the door, cheeks flushed crimson.
"Aunt...?" she squeaked, eyes wide.
The old woman raised an eyebrow. "What? What's wrong? I've met him before, haven't I?"
"How do you know his name?" Mò Lián blurted.
"Hmph. Didn't I tell you we had a visitor?" the woman said smugly, grabbing Tiān Jùn's arm. "Come along now. Leave the dramatics."
"Aunt! Aunt! You're already old; are you trying to find a husband again?"
The old woman cackled as she tugged him away, with Mò Lián trailing behind in mock outrage.
Downstairs, Lord Chen looked up as they entered—and burst into laughter.
"What now?" he chuckled, clearly entertained.
"Dad," Mò Lián huffed, "this is my friend, Jùn—"
"Won't you let the boy talk?" her aunt grumbled, plopping into her seat.
Lord Chen studied Tiān Jùn with a calm, assessing gaze.
"And what's your name?"
"Tiān Jùn, sir." He bowed respectfully.
"Tiān... Jùn..." The name lingered oddly in the lord's mind, like something forgotten yet important.
"You're welcome, son," he said at last.
But the aunt interrupted again, ushering Jùn toward the food.
"Come, come! I made this for you. Sit! Eat!"
"I'm hungry too!" Mò Lián pouted.
The table soon filled with laughter, teasing, and clinking bowls. It had been years since Lord Chen had smiled this wide, surrounded by this kind of warmth.
That night, as the stars took their place in the sky, Mò Lián led Tiān Jùn to the rooftop.
They sat close under the moonlight, shoulders brushing, hearts quiet.
She opened up about her past, her fears, and the silence she carried inside.
And he listened.
Her voice didn't just enchant him—he was falling deeper with every word she spoke.
When the air turned cool, they whispered their goodnights.
For the first time in moons, Mò Lián slept in peace. No shadows. No dreams. Just calm.
But Jùn...
He wasn't so lucky.
In the heart of the night, a voice found him.
"You choose me... You healed me.
I never asked for love, but you gave me everything.
I chose you... over everything I had.
Only to realize you wanted my soul... for power.
An eye for an eye...!"
He woke drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.
"This is bad," he whispered.
"I have to go home. Soon."
Later that morning, he joined Lord Chen for a trip to the market.
The air was thick with spices and gossip, the clatter of carts, the cries of vendors.
And then—silence.
At the far end of the square, a procession cut through the bustle.
A silver-white horse trotted through the dust, its rider cloaked in ceremonial black and gold.
Immortal Priest Bái Zhēn.
He had risen before dawn, his vision still sharp in his mind.
Now, as his horse touched the earth of the market square, the same energy from his dream pulsed in his chest.
He looked up—and felt it.
It's here.
He followed the pull until his gaze settled on the crowd, right at the center.
Prince Tiān Jùn felt it before he saw it.
A stare.
The kind that sank into your bones and wrapped around your soul like an unspoken warning.
A presence that made the air tighten around him.
Someone was watching, and they weren't hiding it.
Just a few stalls down, Lord Chen muttered under his breath, clearly irritated.
Mò Lián had promised to meet him at the market today, yet unsurprisingly, she hadn't shown up. Again.
His eyes flicked to the side, landing on the tall, ethereal stranger standing beside his booth.
Tiān Jùn's mere presence had become a magnet, stalling carts, drawing eyes, and crowding the little market with stolen glances.
"Hmph," Lord Chen grumbled.
"If Mò Lián were here, I'd already be sweating from all the customers. Smiling at that prince like a fox in heat... She eats too much junk food anyway. Who knows what she's up to now?"
But Tiān Jùn didn't hear him.
He was pacing lightly, lost in thought, his gaze distant as if hearing music no one else could.
Lord Chen cleared his throat.
"My son," he finally called out, "thank you for joining me at the market; your presence drew a lot of customers."
Tiān Jùn blinked as if returning from a trance and turned with a polite smile.
"You seem distracted," Lord Chen said, narrowing his eyes.
"What's troubling you?"
The prince tilted his head slightly, voice low and calm.
"It's my first time in this part of the country. Everything feels... unfamiliar."
But before the old man could reply, something changed.
It began with silence.
Then, like the slow ripple of a stone cast in still water, the marketplace froze.
One by one, everyone disappeared behind doors. Merchants abandoned their stalls mid-transaction. Carts stopped rolling. Cloth flaps fell shut.
The wind stilled. The air grew thick.
"What's going on?" Tiān Jùn asked, his voice hushed.
Lord Chen's face paled. "Come inside. I'll explain later. Jùn—don't stand there, come in. Now!"
But Tiān Jùn didn't move.
His breath steadied. His posture shifted.
Something stirred within him.
The mortal prince faded.
And the High Priest awakened.
Far away, atop a silver-white steed, His Holiness Bái Zhēn rode in solemn procession. But the moment that pulse of divine energy kissed the air, his head snapped toward it.
His eyes widened.
That presence... that divine resonance...
He vanished in a blur of mist, only to reappear a heartbeat later, right before the one he had felt in his bones.
High Priest Tiān.
Without hesitation, Bái Zhēn dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the earth.
"My Highness," he whispered, voice trembling with reverence.
Tiān's lips curved faintly. "Bái Zhēn..."
And just as gently as it had awakened, the aura slipped back into silence.
The High Priest faded.
Prince Tiān Jùn returned.
Behind shuttered windows and cracked doors, merchants peeked with wide, frightened eyes.
"Why is he bowing to me?" Tiān Jùn murmured to himself. His lips twitched. "Immortal..."
He turned away, arms folding across his chest as the lingering divine energy flickered and disappeared.
Bái Zhēn rose, bowed again, and vanished in the thin air.
But others had seen.
Thundering footsteps echoed as Bái Zhēn's escorts, soldiers cloaked in silver, rushed forward, dropping to their knees before the prince.
"Your Majesty," they said in one voice, their foreheads pressed deep into the dirt.
Tiān Jùn turned to them, his tone gentle but firm. "It's a sunny afternoon."
He paused, then added, "Fetch me your troop commander. Return to the barracks. Now."
"Yes, Your Majesty." They bowed again and swiftly disappeared into formation.
Back at the stall, Lord Chen peeked cautiously, lips drawn in a tight line.
"Hmph," he muttered. "It's easy to tell royal blood... That energy—it suffocates the air."
The market remained paralyzed.
Then Tiān Jùn looked toward Lord Chen, voice quiet and sincere.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I'm from," he said. "But I don't want special treatment. I like the way things are here."
Just then, a bright, familiar voice rang out.
"Hey... Jùn! Jùn!"
He turned.
There she was.
Mò Lián stood at the edge of the square, sunlight caught in her hair, a smile tugging at her lips as if the world hadn't just shifted beneath their feet.
"Why's the market quiet?" She asked, stepping closer with a playful tilt of her head. "Dad? What happened?"
She joined them under the canopy, eyes flitting between her father and the prince.
Lord Chen stepped around Tiān Jùn, examining his daughter as she might vanish again.
"How did you get here?"
The sun slipped westward, pulling the light with it. Shops were locked, and the streets fell into uneasy quiet.
Lord Chen was neither happy nor angry. Just... heavy. Like something heavy had fallen on his shoulders.
At Lord Chen's house, the air was still. Quiet.
Mò Lián had retreated to her room. She lay curled under the blanket, thoughts swirling until they carried her to sleep.
In the other room, Lord Chen and his sister sat in dim lantern light, their conversation drifting into the surreal.
Unbeknownst to them, Prince Tiān Jùn stood in the shadows, invisible. Silent.
"Hmph," Lord Chen sighed. "I'm honestly at a loss for words. Prince Tiān Jùn... our guest? That's a laughable lie."
His sister stared at him, eyes wide.
She stood, arms flailing as she paced. "All royal members have this... this aura! You shouldn't even be able to stand close to them. Wait—have you even seen him before? The Prince of Huǒyuàn?"
Lord Chen shook his head. "I haven't. But the first day I met him, something about his name... it sounded royal."
His sister gasped.
"They say he's incarnate, you know." Her eyes gleamed with gossip.
"His ethereal energy? His spiritual power? A hundred over a hundred. Even his parents don't come near. No personal maids. His bodyguards are terrified they'll be drained."
She burst into laughter.
"Out of all the maidens in the world, why Mò Lián?"
She flopped into her seat again, muttering, "Why isn't Jùn back yet? Did he leave already?"
Outside, the stars blinked one by one into the sky.
And in the stillness of the night, Tiān Jùn stood alone in the shadows...
Waiting.
Wishing the world could stay this simple for just a little while longer.