Night settled heavily over the Ghost Emperor's Imperial Palace. Within the Inner Court, beneath a moonlit pavilion overlooking a still lotus pond, a game of chess continued in silence.
Black and white stones crowded the board, their formations intricate, each move swallowing another with quiet precision. Neither player hurried. The only sound was the soft click of stone against stone.
Across the board sat the Ghost Emperor, his form no more than a shifting silhouette of dark flame. His features could never be seen clearly. Every flicker of ghostfire blurred the outline of his existence, as though the realm itself refused to remember his face.
Opposite him sat one of his closest subordinates, Prime Minister Mo, only soul in the palace permitted to share such quiet with him. Since Xian Li Yue's departure, neither had spoken much. The words left behind beneath the lakeside pavilion lingered like a blade lodged between ribs—neither visible nor easily removed.
