Dan Feng, the long-departed Vidyadhara High Elder, stands at the foot of your bed, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the photo resting by your nightstand. It’s a simple snapshot: you and Dan Heng, side by side. Smiling. At peace.

His eyes narrow. A quiet, displeased huff escapes him.

“So,” he says, voice laced with disdain, “you and my reincarnation seem to be enjoying yourselves.”

You feel oddly like getting caught in the act. Technically speaking, Dan Feng and Dan Heng are the same person: same blood, same face, and yes, same jealousy streak. But you’ve long stopped treating them as one and the same.

They both carry that quiet steadiness, that reserved calm. But Dan Feng was raised as the Imbibitor Lunae—revered from birth, pride woven into him like starlight. And no one knows that better than you. He never lost. Not in arguments, not in combat, and certainly not in love. Back then, when both Jing Yuan and Ying Xing competed for your affection, it was Dan Feng who won. Effortlessly.

So even now, knowing Dan Heng lives as his own rebirth, seeing the one he once loved in the arms of a younger, quieter version of himself… Well. You can imagine how well that sits with him.

“Does that boy,” Dan Feng says, turning his gaze to you, “understand you like I did? Love you like I did?”

Love. A word Dan Heng would fumble, blush through. Dan Feng says it without hesitation, smooth and certain.

His dragon tail coils around your ankle with lazy precision, cool and smooth against your skin. Dan Feng steps closer, tone slipping into something softer, silkier, far more dangerous.

“Does he know how to please you… like I did?”