In the fallen Kingdom of Jingling, the once-proud palace now echoed with the bitter cries of the broken. What had once been a place of honor and legacy was now nothing more than a den of shame.
Princess Jia Yu stood in the doorway of her ruined chambers, arms crossed tightly over her chest, defiance burning in her tear-filled eyes. Her silken gown was torn, her bare feet stained with soot and dust.
"I will never become their pleasure toy!" she screamed, her voice hoarse, her throat raw from weeping.
Her kingdom was gone—burnt and trampled under the boots of the Scorpion King's army. Her father, the mighty King Hanwen, and every one of her siblings had been slaughtered—by Hei Xiezhi himself. He had not left her alive out of mercy. He had spared her for humiliation.
Now, they were dragging her to a place worse than death.
The former imperial palace had been turned into a grand pleasure house. Golden walls now held cages. The garden of scholars was replaced with stages and silk screens. The royal banners were torn down and replaced with the symbol of the scorpion.
And Princess Jia Yu, the youngest and last of the royal bloodline, had been delivered into the hands of Lady Miso Yin.
Miso Yin, the madam in charge, looked at the trembling girl with a smile twisted by cruelty. She ran her fingers along a long pipe as she lounged on silk cushions.
"They all say the same thing," she sneered. "The proud princesses. The noble daughters of the slain. But once they feel the hunger in their bellies and the weight of loneliness, they all break."
Jia Yu's face flushed with anger.
"You can starve me, chain me, or beat me. But I will never sell my body to the same monster who butchered my family."
Miso Yin's laugh echoed through the halls like a cracked bell. "Such spirit. Just like the others. And just like them… you'll learn." She leaned forward, voice low and cruel. "The sooner you submit, the easier it'll be for you."
Jia Yu didn't flinch. She turned her face away, refusing to cry again. In her heart, she made a vow.
If she was to be used, she would make herself a blade.
She would learn, she would wait. And one day, she would make Hei Xiezhi bleed.
Absolutely.
---
That night, the wind over the ruins of Jingling howled like the ghosts of her dead.
Princess Jia Yu was locked in a small chamber at the edge of the former palace, now redressed in silk and incense to mask the scent of blood that still clung to the walls. The room was dim, lit only by a paper lantern. A tray of untouched food sat on the floor—scented rice and sweet wine meant to "soften" her. She hadn't taken a bite.
The door creaked open.
Her breath hitched as two guards entered, flanking a tall man in dark robes—one of the Scorpion King's favored merchants. His eyes glittered at the sight of her, chained at the ankle, her gown torn and her hair disheveled.
"So, this is the princess," he said, licking his lips. "A rare gift."
She rose slowly to her feet, head high despite the tremble in her knees. "Touch me," she whispered, "and I swear by the spirits of my ancestors, I will bite my tongue off and drown in my own blood. Do you wish to lie with a corpse?"
The merchant paused, visibly amused. "Fiery. It will make breaking you more fun."
But then—
A noise outside the room. Quick footsteps and the whisper of a blade unsheathing.
The door burst open. A hand flew across the merchant's face before he could react.
It was Yan Qing, one of the lower guards—a boy no older than Jia Yu herself. He shoved the merchant back with surprising force, then turned to the guards with sharp eyes. "Lady Miso wants her untouched tonight," he lied, authority lacing his voice. "The Scorpion King has requested she be prepared in the temple rites first."
The guards hesitated. Yan Qing threw a bloodstained medallion at their feet. It bore the Scorpion King's mark.
They backed away.
Once the door shut behind them, Jia Yu fell to her knees in disbelief.
Yan Qing knelt quickly beside her. "Don't make a sound," he whispered. "I don't know how long this will work. But for tonight… you're safe."
"Why?" she whispered.
He looked down. "Because… once, my sister was taken here. And no one came for her." His voice cracked. "I won't let that happen to you."
Jia Yu stared at him—this nameless soldier, this quiet boy risking death to protect her. A single tear slid down her cheek.
That night, she did not sleep. Nor did she cry. She sat by the barred window, watching the moon rise. Her chains felt lighter, not because they were gone, but because someone had reminded her. She was not alone.
Sun shine brightly in the kingdom of Yun Zheng. Lady Xhurai stormed into Hei Xiezhi's private chamber without so much as a knock. The vision she'd just seen had rattled her to the bone.
Inside, she found him lounging, three women at his side serving wine and fruit like goddesses attending a king. But her presence in his inner room—uninvited—meant only one thing: something was terribly wrong.
With a flick of his hand, the women stood and silently disappeared into the adjoining room.
"You've forgotten how to knock," Hei Xiezhi said coolly, rising to pour himself more wine.
"If I told you what brought me here, you wouldn't be talking about manners," she snapped.
He turned, eyebrow raised. "Then by all means, Lady Xhurai… enlighten me."
"The one fated to bring you down," she said, her voice low and urgent, "has awakened."
His cup stilled mid-air. "What?" he barked. "When? How?"
"I saw him in my dreams," she replied, eyes dark with warning. "He drew his sword… But don't panic. You still have the advantage."
He narrowed his eyes. "what do you mean.?
"He's only just begun to stir. A vampire who has slept for centuries needs time to fully awaken. This—right now—is your chance. Strike while he's still weak."
Before her final word had settled in the air, Hei Xiezhi tossed aside his robe and stormed out of the room.
Moments later, he arrived at the training ground, his voice thundering across the field as his soldiers paused mid-practice.
"Prepare for war."