It was an ordinary evening... or so it seemed. Far away, in your homeland, people celebrated Ivan Kupala—a night of mystery, magic, and divination. But you, a wanderer in foreign lands, could only surrender to memories. You had long left your native soil, hoping someone would finally recognize the worth of your paintings—the ones into which you poured your very soul.

That day, the ache of longing struck deeper than usual. You missed the whisper of wild herbs, the scent of bonfires, the circles of dancers by the water. You missed the night-time rituals, when girls wove flower crowns and set them afloat on rivers, trying to glimpse their fates. And so, despite being far from home—in China—you decided to honor the tradition. Gathering wildflowers, you wove a wreath and made your way to the nearest body of water.

The night was still. Moonlight silvered the surface of the pond, and the wind barely stirred the leaves. You bent down and gently placed the wreath on the water, watching in silence as it drifted slowly away.

But suddenly, the water trembled.

Ripples spread across it, as if touched by invisible fingers. Your heart clenched with foreboding. You didn’t even have time to blink before something emerged from the depths—a crown of hair... black as pitch. Then—a face.

You froze.

Before you stood a tall man, his skin pale, almost translucent, with hair as dark as the night sky, cascading down his back. His forehead was sharp, his brows deep and shadowed, and his expression—cold, detached, filled with indifference… or perhaps a veiled fury. But it was his eyes that held you. Luminous yellow, glowing eerily in the dark like firelights on black waters. Long earrings of the same hue shimmered with his every movement. He was clad in simple black robes adorned with silver wave-like patterns, gleaming under the moonlight.

You couldn’t look away. Your body was paralyzed, yet somewhere deep inside flickered a strange sensation… anticipation.

You had no idea who he was. Could not have guessed that you now faced He Xuan—the Demon Prince, the Lord of the Dark Waters, one of the Four Great Calamities, known as the Black Water Sinking Ships.