The heavens roared and lightning struck, accompanied by threatening thunder. The earth, drenched with the blood of the innocent, trembled and cried for mercy, but the echoes of war shielded its plight.
The air was thick with the stench of dirt, sweat, and blood. Swords clashed, bodies fell, and more blood flowed.
Prince Liang Chen knelt upon the cold jade tiles of the imperial halls, his wrists bound with iron chains and his once-nicely packed ash hair loose over his shoulders.
He glanced around, his heart rising and falling at the numbers falling at a time. The once-vibrant banners of Yunzhou hung torn with bloodstains above him. This was his pride, his kingdom, and now it was in ruins.
The dynasty his generation had fought to keep had crumbled under his feet, and he could do nothing about it.
Liang Chen's eyes burned with rage, his fists folded. Tears threatened to burst, but he dared not let them fall. His flesh was torn from the shackles, yet he bit down on his lips and swallowed every pain. It was his duty. He was a man. He was the crown a strategist feared by all.
But the prince of Yelan, Ji Mingyuan—the green-eyed demon whose sword slew thousands, his aura cold as the devil, and those tempting gazes that lingered longer—stood before him.
Liang Chen glanced around the walls of the very room he had once stood tall, with ministers bowing at his words and generals awaiting every command. But tonight was different. He was no prince, no heir to the dragon throne… only a fallen man, betrayed and dethroned by the very mouths he once fed.
As if fate couldn't be more cruel, they had chosen another, pledging loyalty to the same creature who had slain his men and raided the kingdom.
Ji Mingyuan sat on the conquered throne. His black midnight armor was soaked in the blood of his rivals, his jade-black hair held up, and his captivating green eyes shimmered with cruel satisfaction.
The remaining men submitted under his consuming presence, but his blade has never spared.
"If one can betray his land… he can betray me," he whispered, his voice draped in cruelty.
Liang Chen did not shiver under his dominance. He forced himself to meet the piercing gaze of his captor, though his body trembled with rage.
"Ji Mingyuan," Liang Chen spat bitterly.
"Don't you want to gain absolute control? Kill me, for if you think my spirit will ever bow to you." Liang Chen chuckled.
"In your dreams."
Mingyuan's lips stretched; he loved a dare. He stepped closer, his boots thundering against the polished tiles. He stopped before him, towering above the kneeling prince. Slowly, he leaned down, his face inches from Liang Chen's, and without notice, he drew out a dagger, aiming it at Liang Chen's throat.
Liang Chen's breath hitched, but his eyes never wavered, not for a second. His pupils remained focused, not even a blink—a total contrast to his hammering heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribcage.
Mingyuan smirked, sheathing the dagger, and brushed away a strand of blood-matted hair from Liang Chen's face. Ji Mingyuan quickly turned his face away; the touch burned worse than the wounds on his body.
"Still proud, even in chains, huh?" Mingyuan grinned, his voice low but steady, carrying a laced hint of mockery.
"You truly live up to your title, crown prince. But pride cannot save… not your throne, not your parents… not even your betrothed."
Liang Chen's breath caught. He had long suspected it, yet hearing every word drip from his enemy's lips broke him even more.
The palace doors opened, and she stepped in—not dragged. The guards bowed at her sight.
Unlike the blood-stained robe he had expected, she was adorned in a crimson veil and robe. Her hair carried a crown, and her eyes no longer held love for him or Yunzhou. They glittered with tears of joy. Her lips, painted red, gloriously wore a smile.
She did not kneel... No. She walked past him, straight into the waiting arms of Ji Mingyuan.
A taunting silence filled the air. Liang Chen bit down on his sorrow. This was his woman—the one raised by his side to be his bride, the pride of his mother, and the model of his people.
"From this day forth, Lady Xaunyin shall be Queen of Yelan. She will share my throne, and together we will forge a dynasty greater than any Yunzhou could ever dream."
Every word struck Liang Chen like bolts of lightning. His body trembled, but he forced himself as he lunged forward. The iron chains cut into his flesh.
"Traitor! Whore!" His pupils flicker with glistening tears. "You swore…"
But his voice was drowned by the cheers of Mingyuan's soldiers celebrating their leader.
"I thought you said you loved me," Liang Chen whispered. "Love," Xaunyin scoffed bitterly.
"What is there to love in a broken man?"
Liang Chen opened his mouth, but no words came forth… indeed, he was broken. However, just when Liang Chen thought it was over, just when his heart felt it couldn't be shattered any further, two bodies were dragged in and tossed on the floor like bags of grain.
Liang Chen's body went limp. His face paled, his chapped, thin lips trembled, and his eyes widened as he stared at the two bodies before him. He wanted to tear the world apart, but his chest throbbed with disbelief.
One was cold, kneeling upright with his head never bowing, like the king he was. By his side was a woman, her hands tightened around a hairpin aimed at her heart—she had committed suicide.
Liang Chen's tears flowed without bounds. He was tired; he dared not hold back. His knees crawled toward the bodies, his trembling hands shook them vigorously, but they were cold, still, and gone. Liang Chen cradled her against his chest, providing what little warmth he could offer, but the numbness continued. She was gone forever.
"Mother… Father…" He bit down on his gum. The metallic taste of blood made it feel so real.
Ji Mingyuan smirked as he looked down on the figure like a fly he could trample at will. "How does disobedience feel… my prince?" Ji Mingyan sneered.
"You have nothing left. No throne, no family, no bride… Only your hatred…and me."
Liang Chen lunged forward desperately.
"I will kill you… even as a ghost, I will never rest until I see your body broken and your soul cast into the depths of oblivion!" he roared.
Ji Mingyuan's gaze flickered—something unreadable, sharp, and dangerous—but it was gone before Liang Chen could see it.
Ji Mingyuan turned away.
"Take him to the riverside. Let him witness the flood." His command echoed like a final judgment.
The guards dragged Liang Chen by the chains, but he never stopped protesting.
"I will come for you, Mingyuan… I will kill you… Your life is mine to take!" His words echoed on the walls of the palace as the guards dragged him away.
The storm had come at last. Rain droplets hammered his wounded body, his tears mixing with the rain as they dragged him through the ruined streets of the capital. Liang Chen witnessed the downfall of his people—the ruins of war and the innocent lives drowned by conflict.
He was thrown onto the riverbank, the chains still binding his hands and legs. He could swim, but today's rain was not ordinary. The river swelled like a pregnant woman, its monstrous waves hammering against the banks.
Liang Chen felt himself sway with unimaginable speed. His body came in contact with objects—sharp and soft. His breath caught, and cold water filled his lungs. He was giving up. There was no hope.
But his heart raced with vengeance
"Indeed, the heavens never lie," Liang Chen thought. The flood foretold by the priests had arrived, a punishment for Yunzhou's arrogance and their disobedience, and now all was paid.
As he felt himself fall into the wrath of the heavens, he heard an echo with a tempting offer:
"Do you want to try again?"
Liang Chen's eyes snapped open, but he quickly shut them again as dirt and water filled them within seconds. He opened his mouth to say yes, but the rush of water into every opening sank his body to the depths of the riverbed. He couldn't breathe. He descended fast.
But deep in his heart, he whispered,
"Yes."
And everything went dark.