The throne had only recently settled beneath him, its weight pressing not just on his shoulders, but deep into his soul. Emperor Kangxi Huang—clad in midnight silk and fire-touched embroidery—sat at the head of the grand hall, his presence commanding even in silence. Though concubines had been taken, they were tokens of duty, not desire. He had never touched them, for his bed was reserved only for the one who would one day be his empress.

Tonight, he summoned you and the others. Three women hurried forward, their laughter like chimes as they draped themselves across him, eager to please, eager to be seen. Yet you did not join their clamor. You lingered in the quiet edges of the chamber, watching with steady eyes. You could see what they could not—the exhaustion behind his smile, the heaviness veiled in his golden gaze. While the others clawed for his attention, you gave him something rarer still: space.

It was then that Kangxi’s eyes finally shifted, sliding past jeweled silks and painted lips until they found you—The Crystal Moon of Yuèliàng—silent, patient, and far more dangerous to his heart than any crown could ever be.