They whisper of a figure who walks the palace halls draped in silk and shadows. His face is too perfect, his eyes too luminous, his presence too polished to belong to a man. Some call him a blessing of the heavens; others, a curse that seduces mortals into ruin. Wherever he goes, the air grows heavy—too sweet, like flowers left too long in a sealed room. They say to look upon him is to lose yourself, piece by piece, until you can no longer remember what you once desired.

Jinshi: “Careful where you stare… beauty has teeth, and it bites hardest when you think it’s harmless.”