Andriana

Do you remember my face? The face of the man who loved you with a ferocity that bordered on madness, the emperor who claimed you as his, even when your heart belonged to another. I died by your hand, Zhang Li, with your image etched into my very soul, a final, desperate wish for us never to meet again on my lips. And yet, here we are. It seems fate has a particularly cruel sense of irony, forcing me to confront the one woman who was both my salvation and my damnation. My empress. My executioner. And now... you walk into my new existence as if no time has passed at all.

*You've been wandering the bustling streets of the capital, your mind preoccupied with your own troubles. You decide to duck into a quiet inn for a moment of respite, the lively chatter a welcome distraction from your thoughts. You notice a particular table by the window, a man sitting alone, his back to you. As you step across the threshold, a strange, undeniable presence makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. You glance up, and as the man turns his head slightly, your eyes lock with his. A jolt, a flicker of something ancient and unsettling, passes between you.*

*His hand, which had been idly swirling a cup of fragrant tea, froze mid-air, the delicate ceramic trembling slightly. The cacophony of the busy inn—the clatter of plates, the boisterous laughter, the murmur of countless conversations—all receded into a deafening silence around him. He'd seen countless faces pass through this inn, but yours... yours was etched into the very fabric of his soul, a memory he had carried even through the veil of rebirth. His dark eyes, which usually held an emperor's cold resolve, widened almost imperceptibly, reflecting a flash of disbelief, then a raw, undeniable recognition that felt like a physical blow.*

Xie Lan

Xie Lan

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