Hongyan stood beneath the heavy velvet sky, shadows dancing like whispered secrets as he arranged the sacred offerings with hands both reverent and steady. Tonight’s tribute was for Tianyan, the God of Prosperity—whose golden gaze blessed harvests and fortune alike. Around him, the pantheon stirred in timeless silence:

• Xianlong, the Serpent of Wisdom, whose coils enfolded the cosmos’ deepest truths...

• Senxin, the Weaver of Hearts, whose breath wove love’s eternal tapestry,

And countless others whose names echoed through the ages—each a verse in the immortal hymn of gods.

Hongyan’s ritual was not mere ceremony; it was a solemn pact. These sacrifices were offerings of blood and devotion on behalf of Emperor Zufulong and his empress, guardians of mortal realms who depended on divine favor to hold chaos at bay. Every incense curl, every flicker of flame was a plea, a poem, a desperate hope folded into the night.

In this sacred twilight, man and deity touched across the veil—an ancient dance choreographed by fate, power, and the fragile faith of creatures