Princess Yuyan was still curled up on her bed, her eyes glued to the pages of the ancient book. The sunlight poured gently through the silk curtains, but she was too lost in the world of the story to notice. Her fingers rested delicately on the open page, her expression unreadable—caught somewhere between fascination and longing.
She didn't even flinch when the door creaked open.
"My lady. Is there anything I can help you with?" Mei asked gently as she stepped inside.
Yuyan finally looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Nothing really. Just make sure no one storms in like you did."
"I'm really sorry, my lady," Mei replied quickly, bowing slightly. "I didn't mean to disturb you. But don't worry—I'll make sure no one else disturbs you either."
Yuyan gave a distracted nod, already turning back to her book, eyes scanning the next lines as though she feared they might vanish if she looked away too long.
---
In another part of the palace, the Emperor lay in his chambers, deep in sleep. But even in rest, his mind was restless.
In his dream, he found himself standing in a lush garden, close to a roaring waterfall. Mist clung to the air, glistening like silver threads. He looked down and realized—he was much younger. Sixteen, perhaps. The boy he once was.
Not far ahead, he saw a man sitting on a large rock by the water's edge—an older man, dressed in a simple robe. Familiar. Deeply familiar.
The young Emperor walked cautiously toward the figure and sat beside him.
"You've started noticing the coming of the prophecy, haven't you?" the man asked without turning.
"Father…!" the Emperor whispered, his voice trembling. "I don't understand the prophecy. But… my daughter—she's started acting the way you described."
His father smiled, soft but knowing. "Then it's beginning. The signs are never wrong"
"But I don't know what to do…"
"You will," the man said. "You must listen to the signs and watch closely. The girl will carry the mark, and the boy will carry the sight. These are clear signs that you might have experienced. Fear, not Zixuan."
The Emperor's hand moved forward to touch his father's arm—but the moment his fingers grazed the man's robe, the vision crumbled into light.
He awoke with a gasp.
Beside him, the Empress was still sleeping, her breaths slow and even. He sat up, heart racing, sweat lining his brow.
His thoughts spun as he recalled his father's words—the old warning that had haunted him since he was crowned king.
"There will come a time of darkness and threat in this kingdom. And in that time, the bond of blood shall tremble to be broken.
The forgotten bloodline shall stir from its slumber.
Before this storm, you shall bear a child—a princess, marked by fate. She shall carry the sign: two fang-shaped birthmarks upon her neck. That shall be proof she belongs to the forgotten line.
And beside her, a son shall be born—a seer. He shall see what others cannot. Another sign that the ancient blood stirs within your house.
My son, our royal line stretches deeper than the records recall. Our blood is not purely off man. Trace it far enough, and you will see—we come from a time of shadow and power.
Brace yourself for the storm. Be brave. When the time comes, you will know what must be done. I believe in you."
The Emperor swallowed hard. Yuyan had that mark. Leng Yue had the sight. The signs were no longer stories—they were real.
Then his mind drifted to Leng Yue as a child.
Even as a boy, Leng Yue had always been… different.
He could detect things others missed, noticing subtle changes in people's expressions, spotting hidden objects without being told. Zixuan remembered clearly how he used to hide his blades in the training courtyard, thinking it was too soon for his son to handle weapons. But Leng Yue always found them—no matter how cleverly they were concealed.
At that qtime, Zixuan believed it was simply youthful cleverness, a boy's passionate curiosity fueled by dreams of becoming a warrior. The child had an uncanny sense of direction and intuition. He knew when someone was lying, could read a room in seconds, and sometimes even spoke of things he shouldn't have known.
Back then, Zixuan had laughed it off as natural talent, brushing aside the oddities with pride.
But now, with the shadows of prophecy drawing closer and the past stirring from its slumber, he realized the truth.
His son had always carried something more. The signs had been there all along—subtle, persistent. And now, those signs were no longer quiet.
They were awakening.
Still in his nightclothes, he pulled on his robe and rose from the bed, glancing once at the sleeping Empress. Quietly, he stepped out into the dim corridor and made his way toward the royal library.
---
When Emperor Han Zixuan reached the Royal Library, his steps were quick and deliberate. He ordered the two guards stationed inside to leave.
"Stand watch outside. I need privacy," he said.
The guards bowed respectfully. "Yes, Your Majesty," they answered before exiting.
As soon as the doors shut behind them, Zixuan turned to begin his search. He got to a shelf and pushed it open revealing a secret shelf. He tried to reached out for something—only to gasp as a flash of movement caught his eye. A shadow darted from above. Before he could react, a blade sliced through the air. Something hit the floor with a sickening thud.
He clutched his chest and turned sharply, his heart pounding—only to find his son, Prince Leng Yue, standing calmly, sheathing his sword.
"Are you alright?!" Leng Yue asked, his expression unreadable.
Zixuan looked down. A large serpent lay dead on the floor, its head severed cleanly from its body.
"What—how did you… What are you doing here?" the Emperor demanded.
"Relax, Father," Leng Yue said calmly. "I came to discuss something that's been driving me mad."
He turned slightly. "Guards!"
One of the guards opened the door and stepped in.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Dispose off the dead thing," Leng Yue instructed.
The guard bowed and carefully wrapped the two pieces of the snake in a cloth before leaving in silence.
"Can we talk now, Father?" the prince asked.
Zixuan slowly nodded and gestured for him to sit. They both took their places across from each other at the library table, the dim lanterns casting dancing shadows along the ancient scrolls.
"I know this might sound strange, but…" Leng Yue began.
"…you've been seeing visions?" the Emperor interrupted gently.
Leng Yue's eyes widened. "You know?"
Zixuan nodded, exhaling deeply. "That's what brought me here ."
The prince leaned forward. "But Father, it's more than visions. I'm not just seeing glimpses of the present or sensing people's thoughts. I've started seeing memories. Memories that aren't mine. They feel ancient… familiar yet distant. I see two bloodlines, long forgotten, rising again."
Zixuan's expression froze in disbelief. "You're seeing something like the past?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
"Call it what you like," Leng Yue said. "But they feel real. As if they're trying to speak to me."
The Emperor's heart pounded faster. "Tell me something. In these visions… do you ever see your sister? Yuyan?"
Leng Yue tilted his head, confused. "Sometimes. Why?"
"Do you see her being bitten by anything?" Zixuan asked sharply.
"What? Yes. I've seen bite marks on her neck. And she has one in real life too. I thought it was strange."
"She was born that way," Zixuan replied quietly.
Leng Yue's breath caught. "What?!"
The puzzle pieces were starting to align. Prophecy, bloodline, bite marks. Everything his father had told him decades ago began to echo in his ears.
Zixuan rose from his seat and began to pace, his robe brushing softly against the floor. "You mustn't tell Yuyan any of this. Not yet. Let her finish the book I gave her—on her own. That story holds answers… more than I even know. But I promised my father it would remain untouched by anyone else."
Leng Yue looked skeptical. "You've kept that promise all these years?"
"I swore an oath on it. You know the weight of such oaths in this kingdom."
Leng Yue nodded solemnly. "I understand."
"Go and get some rest. Prepare for tonight," Zixuan said.
Leng Yue rose, casting one last glance toward the bookshelf his father had opened halfway. A slight smirk played on his lips.
"That's not where the letter is," he said, pointing. "It's in the other secret shelf. Left, right, left, left, right. That's the pattern."
Zixuan blinked. "What?"
"I figured it out last year when my visions were still new" the prince said casually. "I never opened it. Just knew it was there."
And with that, he turned and walked out.
Zixuan stared after his son, stunned. Then his gaze shifted back to the shelf. With steady hands, he followed the pattern: left, right, left, left, right.
Click.
A soft grinding sound echoed as the hidden compartment slowly revealed itself. Inside, wrapped in old silk, was the letter. His father's handwriting, untouched by time.
The Emperor held it in trembling hands.
The prophecy had begun.
The forgotten bloodline… was awakening.