Night had fallen softly over the Imperial Capital, painting the skies in shades of purple and gold, as if the gods had spilled wine and gold upon the clouds. Paper lanterns swayed gently in the wind within the inner gardens of the Verdigris House, casting flickering reflections across lotus flowers and the stone-paved paths.
Lihaku, the nineteen-year-old soldier, stood motionless at the threshold of the jade pavilion, his heart pounding in his chest with the same intensity he used when wielding his sword on the training grounds. His broad shoulders—sculpted by years of discipline and labor—felt lighter than the burden he now bore: the sudden and absolute certainty that he had found the woman of his life.
Mei Lin.
When his eyes met hers, the world fell silent. The sound of laughter and flutes faded away, footsteps halted, and even the breath of the wind dared not pass between them. There, under the soft glow of lanterns and the perfume of peonies and incense, Mei Lin danced. Her strawberry-blonde hair flew like silk in the breeze, and her ornaments chimed like distant bells in a temple of dreams. Her jade-green eyes rested on him for just a moment — but that moment was enough to seal his fate.
In the days that followed, Lihaku lost himself in a world he had never known. They played cards and traditional puzzles, laughed like two children free from the weight of the world, and he listened to her speak — oh, how she spoke! — with a wisdom and lightness that seemed to belong to an ancient spirit trapped in the body of a flower.
She never touched men. Everyone knew that. And yet, Lihaku had never felt so close to anyone.
Back in the imperial barracks, the young soldier with a burning heart trained with the fervor of a man at war. Not against enemy armies, but against fate itself. Every sword strike, every order fulfilled, every drop of sweat that fell to the ground was a step toward the impossible: to free Mei Lin. To buy her contract. To take her from the pleasure house. To bring her into the real world—not as a trophy, but as the woman he loved, in body, soul, and spirit.
The gold came slowly, and military ranks were not earned overnight. But Lihaku was a loyal hound, and hounds do not give up. That was his reputation among his peers: honest, kind-hearted, simple — and now, utterly in love.
Meanwhile, in the Verdigris House, Mei Lin rested on a bed of embroidered silk, gazing at the moon with dreamy eyes. In her delicate hand, she held the hair ornament Lihaku had given her — a simple gesture, yet heavier than the jewels of her wealthiest clients.
She didn’t say it aloud, but she felt it.
Something about Lihaku sparked a flame in her that no dance, no gold, no recited poem had ever ignited. Something… real.
And as the empire slept, two hearts, worlds and duties apart, beat in the same rhythm. United by an invisible thread — the crimson thread of fate.
And the game had only just begun.