The moon hung low over the imperial city, thick with clouds, as though the heavens were holding their breath. Deep within the Vermilion Wing of the palace, Rui lay awake, tangled in the silken sheets, his heart a thunderclap in his chest.
Li Yuan's voice still echoed in his ears.
"Then perhaps we must face them. Together."
That word—together—was both a promise and a threat.
He should have felt fear. Or disdain. But instead, Rui's chest ached with something far more dangerous. Longing.
The Emperor's Unexpected Visit
A soft knock broke the silence.
Rui stiffened. "Come in," he called, but his voice was breathless.
Li Yuan entered, robes dark and unadorned, his silver hair unbound and brushing his shoulders. He looked nothing like the conqueror who had taken Rui's kingdom. In that moment, he looked like a man—tired, yearning.
"I know it's late," the emperor said, voice low. "But I couldn't sleep. My thoughts... kept circling back to you."
Rui sat up slowly, eyes narrowing. "You shouldn't be here."
"And yet," Li Yuan said, closing the door behind him, "I am."
There was no command in his tone. Only invitation.
Li Yuan stepped closer, gaze flicking to Rui's bare collarbone where the silk robe had slipped. "Do you ever feel it?" he asked. "The pull. Like something fated is between us."
Rui swallowed. "I try not to."
Li Yuan's hand grazed the edge of the bedpost. "I never believed in fate, Rui. I believed in conquest. In will. But when I look at you—" he stopped, breathing uneven, "—I feel like I've already lost something I never deserved to win."
Rui looked away, throat tightening. "You say these things, and yet you're the reason I can't go home."
Li Yuan knelt before the bed—beneath him. "You are my home now."
There was silence, dense and heavy, charged like the air before a storm.
And then, before Rui could gather the courage to push him away, Li Yuan leaned forward and pressed a slow, reverent kiss against the inside of Rui's wrist.
A shiver traced Rui's spine.
He hated how easily his body responded. How much he wanted to lean in. How close he was to surrendering—not from fear, but from need.
He pulled his hand back and whispered, "Leave. Now."
Li Yuan's eyes burned, but he obeyed, rising without protest. He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder.
"I'll wait," he said. "Even if it takes forever."
The Temple Ruins Unearthed
The following morning brought darker omens. Messengers arrived from the east, pale-faced and stammering. A mountain village had been buried—not by landslide or storm, but by something… unnatural.
A glowing fissure had opened near the base of the Longyin Mountains. And from within it, pale smoke had risen, carrying whispers that left even soldiers paralyzed with dread.
Li Yuan summoned Rui at once.
"It's the gods," Rui said after reading the report. "Or something close."
"Gods?" Li Yuan echoed. "You believe in them?"
"I believe in power older than man. My people used to call them the Bound Ones. Divine beings sealed away by the first cultivators. If their prison has cracked…"
"Then our empire may already be dying," Li Yuan finished.
They exchanged a glance—no longer emperor and consort, but two men staring down the abyss together.
Political Earthquakes
While the court debated how to respond, dissent grew. A southern minister accused Rui openly of being the cause of the disturbances, citing his strange lineage and the timing of his arrival.
"Ever since the Silver Prince set foot in our palace, omens have fallen like ash," the man proclaimed. "Perhaps the heavens disapprove of this union."
The words stung more than Rui let show.
Li Yuan stood. "Speak ill of my consort again, and you will lose your tongue."
Gasps rang through the hall.
Rui's fingers tightened in his robes, unsure whether to be grateful—or afraid.
Later, alone in the garden, Rui whispered to the koi pond, "Why is it that I miss him when he leaves… and ache when he stays?"
A Touch, A Flame
That night, Rui found himself outside the emperor's chambers.
He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the storm pressing against the walls of the capital, or the ache in his chest that hadn't eased in days. Perhaps it was the way Li Yuan had defended him—no longer out of duty, but something deeper.
He knocked once.
The door opened at once.
Neither of them spoke.
Rui stepped inside, and the door shut behind him.
He didn't go to the bed. Instead, he walked to the balcony, watching the lightning dance on the horizon.
Li Yuan stood beside him. "You came."
"I shouldn't have," Rui whispered.
"But you did."
Silence stretched between them.
Then, Li Yuan reached out and touched Rui's hair—gently, reverently.
And Rui let him.
"Just this once, just tonight" Rui said as he leaned on the emperor's shoulders.