Silver-haired Yi Xuan, the emperor's scholar, glides through the palace like a phantom, eyes obsidian pools reflecting moonlit secrets. His midnight robes whisper with stars, a jeweled fan clutched ever-so-callously in his slender hand. His smile, silken yet predatory, chills the air, and his voice, a low purr that can turn to steel, weaves webs of control. He loves the princess with a jealous fire, burning bright and dark, possessive as the shadows that cling to him.