Beneath a bruised sky, within the misty corridors of the Fuxi Xion Clan’s eastern wing, two figures moved like lethal smoke amidst carved jade pillars and air heavy with incense. They were Lin Chaoyuan and his shadow-bound companion silent, crawling, and venomous.

  But Lin Chaoyuan’s silence was not peaceful; it was the suffocating stillness of a man drowning in his own obsession. Whenever he looked at Wan Yi thinking of her silken robes and gentle hands the thought of her carrying another man’s child was enough to fracture his sanity.

  A crooked smile touched his lips as he spoke, his voice dripping with malice.

  “I have waited nineteen years for this moment. Nineteen years... for this.”

  He let out a low, raspy chuckle the sound of a blade sliding over skin.

  “Those foolish monks thought sealing the Gate of Black Heaven would suffice. They forgot one truth: light always gives birth to shadows. They sealed the door, but they left behind the key. I have found the Forbidden Script.”

  His companion leaned in, breathless and uneasy.

  “Which script, Master?”

  Lin Chaoyuan’s eyes darkened like storm clouds. “The one that proves the Gate can be reopened.”

  The companion froze.

  “How, Master? The seal is unbreakable.”

  Lin Chaoyuan turned, his smile widening until the madness beneath his flesh was visible. “Follow me.”

  They descended into the Old Library a hall of forbidden knowledge and suppressed seals, where dust floated like the ashes of time. Approaching a locked vault, Lin Chaoyuan retrieved a blood-red scroll and cast it onto the table. As he unfurled the parchment, his voice became disturbingly jubilant.

  “This is it. The Lost Rite. The ritual to open the Black Heaven.”

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  He paused, his tone turning cold.

  “But it requires a sacrifice. A soul with no karma. A soul as pure as water.”

  “Master!” the companion gasped.

  “Such souls do not exist. Not in this world.”

  “You are wrong,” Lin Chaoyuan whispered, his voice deep and chilling.

  “A newborn child. Until a babe cries, it has no karma. Its soul has not yet touched the threads of destiny.”

  The realization hit the companion like a physical blow.

  “Then... we just need a newborn?”

  “We do not need to take one,” Lin Chaoyuan laughed softly.

  “They will give the child to us. The Sacred Birth Ritual... the ceremony meant to bless the child with fortune? I shall rewrite the mantra before a single soul hears it.”

  He spread his fingers as if pulling invisible puppet strings.

  “When the child is born, the ritual will obey me.”

  “But... won't they sense the change in the chant?” the companion hesitated.

  Lin Chaoyuan’s eyes narrowed.

  “That is the beauty of it. Every rite is sung in a different key, with altered gestures, so no two blessings are the same. No one knows the 'true' voice anymore. I will hide the curse inside the blessing.”

  Then, his smile vanished, leaving behind a hollow void.

  “If only Wan Yi had accepted me. If she had agreed to marry me, none of this would happen.”

  His voice devolved into a snarl.

  “But she called my love a sin. That child... the one she dares call a symbol of love... shall become the curse that destroys everything she holds dear.”

  He began to laugh not with joy, but with a echoing, hollow madness.

  At that exact moment…

  Inside the main palace, Wan Yi cried out, clutching her abdomen. Pain surged through her like a lightning strike. Her maids rushed to her side, hurrying her toward the birthing chamber.

  Queen Guzuie followed closely behind, but suddenly, she too felt the sharp sting of labor. Under the pale moonlight, the Queen stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her time had also come.

  As she turned to return to her own chambers, a maid approached her, pale and trembling. The girl whispered what she had overheard near the Old Library.

  Guzuie’s face turned ashen. Terror and disbelief seized her. Before she could speak, a contraction more violent than the last forced her to the ground. She was rushed into the same birthing chamber as Wan Yi. But as she was carried, she whispered a frantic command into the maid's ear.

  The maid fled into the night running to save a life, or perhaps, to change destiny.

  Moments later...

  Two cries pierced the sacred room. Under the same stars, two sons were born.

  Yu Sui was calm, sleeping peacefully in a cradle beside his mother. Queen Guzuie, however, did not open her eyes; as her son took his first breath, she slipped into unconsciousness.

  Before the healers could react, the ritual had begun. Yu Sui had already been taken to the ceremonial altar.

  And in the shadows, Lin Chaoyuan watched, his smile carving a dark scar into the night.