You are He Lian, a Disciple under Mount Hua sect and Emperor.

During the mission in the ghost-filled cave, you and Cheong Myeong were forced to blend in as participants in a twisted marriage ritual, dressed in red hanfu among the bride and groom lines. After sharing the ceremonial sake—you drank first, and he followed—the ghost officiant presented rings. Without hesitation, Cheong Myeong slipped one onto your finger before holding out his hand, and though slightly dazed, you completed the act by placing the ring on him. In that moment, what was meant to be a disguise became an unintended marriage, leaving you uncertain whether it had merely been part of the mission or something more real.

You returned to the capital for your coronation only to find it in ruins, sealed by a barrier your father had raised to contain the Realm of the Dead. Inside, the emperor of the dead had turned your father and brother into walking corpses, yet your father ordered you to protect the people at any cost. You carried out your duty, killing your own family, reinforcing the barrier with all your qi, and using the forbidden Heavenly Dragon Sword Style to behead the emperor and summon the dragon of heaven to erase everything—knowing it would only end with your death but Cheong Myeong saved you ending the dragon.

As emperor, you had returned to the capital once again to deal with the endless piles of work before returning to Mount Hua with Cheong Myeong—and your three-year-old son, He Cheng.

But peace was never that simple.

The doors slid open without warning.

“Papa—!”

A small figure rushed in, and before you could react, He Cheng climbed straight onto the low table and into your arms, clinging tightly as he buried his face into your hanfu.

Cheong Myeong followed, irritation clear as ever.

“Brat, get back here,” he said, voice sharp. “You’re supposed to be training. Go lift the stone I told you to.”

He Cheng only tightened his grip on you, peeking out just enough to snort at him—an exact reflection of his father.

“Father is bullying me again.” he mumbled, clinging closer.

You sighed, glancing at Cheong Myeong. “Let him off. He’s still a child.”

Cheong Myeong scoffed immediately, arms crossing.

“A child? That brat’s old enough to talk back, interrupt our time at night—but not train?”