Once upon a time—like all "happy endings" somehow begin—reigned a kingdom so monumentally large and obnoxiously beautiful, it stuck out stronger than a sore thumb.
This kingdom was a trek through the enchanted forest of Zhonglai, and across the whimsical paths poking with a douse of warm light. The closer one got to the heart of the forest, the brighter it would illuminate until revealing a gate grander than any other in the country!
This gate was home to Zhonglai's great capital, Jianlai.
And my, was it ever magnificent!
The streets bustled loud, with each person trailing along the ornate patterns, shimmering bright and expensive. It was a place not only lively and celebratory, but never once felt frigid or cold. Many assumed it simply blessed with continual warmth, from the weather to each hospitable personality.
Jianlai, in other words, was ridiculously wealthy and bathed in many luxuries. In this world, no one hid the fact that money could bring happiness.
There was no shortage of opportunity. From the vast trade to the beauties aplenty, and to those who stood as the very pride of Jianlai.
Its most important possession of all: the royal family. What shone bright than even the emperor was he who stood next--a pretty good-looking prince.
Yup, all tales couldn't exist properly without a dashing man at the forefront.
This handsome prince was a favourite in Jianlai, and an example of the precedent set by the royal family during the era of Shan.
He was tall and slender, with eyes as mystical as the night sky, and twinkling with a passion for a power.
Eloquent these features may be, the prince was also fierce, naming himself the pride of the Shan family and greatest son of the emperor.
The Shan family was both proud and remarkably generous; as told by their people. So, when they birthed a son who harboured all these qualities? The city rejoiced for seven days and seven nights.
They graced the walkways with silver, promised endless days of sunshine, and assured that never once should the people of this kingdom go hungry. There was no shortage of happiness in Jianlai or gifts granted from this wonderful family and their good fortune.
It was absolutely the best place to be at the time!
In fact, many of Jianlai's citizens vouched that its good fortune was by the grace of the gods, rewarding the prince for all his future deeds and proud stature. As the next Son of Heaven, people often said he was delivered straight from Heaven itself.
He stood firm and noble, with a smile so wide it nearly fell off his face. To many, he was the ideal portrait of a well-behaved, charismatic son. And not only this, but he was also favoured by many women for having a face only blessed by the heavens—not even his father could contend with this heartstopper.
And to this, the prince became a beacon of benevolence, loved by many who roamed the golden paths of Chuhen Palace. So much so that many fathers within the kingdom walls would beg the emperor to take their daughters in as the prince's consorts.
However, the prince vehemently declined all or any attempt at romance, dubbing it an utter waste of his time and values. This left his father in a bind, and often the two would fight in his attempts to convince his son to follow in his footsteps.
To continue the Shan legacy painted red.
Of course, this prince would continue to reject each and every attempt, mentioning that his love would always remain for the heavens and heaven alone. He was an exterior as hardened as the glaciers of the northern region, and far too stubborn to break apart.
The emperor didn't know what to make of this situation, but like father like son, he too was stubborn. He made the decision to go against his son's wishes, and fulfill his life with even more desires and indulgence.
As was the way of Jianlai.
But not all was what it seemed on the surface, and not all stories are told within a single line.
This was the first crack in an image so carefully constructed. If there was even a hair loose, or a blemish, the women would immediately be turned away by the prince's judging eye. Utterly destroyed by his harsh and cold words.
Rather, that was putting it kindly, when the prince's actions weren't kind at all and nothing a proud man would ever say.
This continued for months.
Then one day, Jianlai's pride all collapsed in the sudden death of the emperor.
To the people's anguish, the emperor was said to have been killed amid a riot. No citizen knew why this beloved emperor was targeted, and they never would. All of it was buried under years of corruption without any direction to point their fingers in.
Sitting at the forefront of this catastrophe was the young prince, taking the throne at only nineteen years old. Thus, what was already crumbling finally fell apart at his hands.
The prince was unable to manage the mess his father had left behind and wallowed under the expectations of a cold-hearted ruler.
And what he and the citizens would soon come to realize was a small, yet monumental detail: happiness was only ever an illusion first illustrated by the late emperor.
For one to lather an entire capital in gold, they first had to acquire that gold. Which was no easy task, and it involved methods better left unsaid.
To achieve the greatness that was already tattered, the young prince dialled up his father's strategy and relentlessly taxed the surrounding regions.
When the people tried to rebel or argue, he'd simply watch them die. If they wouldn't die, he would kill them.
That was the playbook offered to this prince under his father's teaching, opened wide for the entire capital to read.
Years and years of this treachery would pass, gradually revealing the dark truths that lay under the silver and gold that built Jianlai.
Plight, pillage, famine—there was no shortage of misfortune. The citizens of Jianlai could no longer live the life they once knew, and the golden sun that once graced the sky was shrouded in a bitter winter.
The gods had abandoned Jianlai.
And under the hand of the prince would the era of Shan fall to ruins in the span of a single day. In retribution for defying heaven's decree, Jianlai would be buried under the curse of a lone, jester of a god.
This god gifted artifacts known as relics to each region, designed to keep them safe from the curse ever reaching their doorstep. It was his way of laughing at this fallen prince, for all that was his cruelty returned.
Thus, what was once known all over Zhonglai for its abundance and prosperity faded in a single night. The entire city fell into a desolate winter, and Chuhen Palace, its people, and the once proud legacy forever withered into the world of nonexistence.
A whisper, no louder than the wind that howled through the once brightened forest.
Two hundred years had long since passed, and any trace of this once lavish kingdom had entirely faded from anyone's memory. All that remains are the remnants of a ghastly forest and the murmurs of a land forgotten in time.
End of prologue.
Beauty and the Thief.