Prelude: The Rise of Lián Xuě

They whispered her name in hushed tones long before she ascended to the throne, a name that danced on the lips of those who dreamed of power and destiny. Lián Xuě (蓮雪), the Lotus Snow, evoked images of serene beauty and ethereal grace, a rare bloom untouched by the harshness of the world.

Born beneath a delicate lotus, its vibrant petals defying the chill of winter's grasp, her arrival was heralded as an extraordinary omen. Unlike the typical wailing of newborns, she emerged into the world wrapped in an ethereal silence, her wide, deep-set eyes opening with remarkable tranquility. It was as if she had already traversed the annals of time, embodying the wisdom and experiences of countless lives before this one. The stillness surrounding her seemed to pulse with an ancient knowing, a quiet assurance that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

As dawn broke over the horizon, casting a soft glow across the frosty expanse, she found herself perched on the towering peaks, a solitary figure against the vastness of the sky. While others struggled to articulate their initial incantations, their voices shaky and unsure, she remained untouched by doubt. The crisp, icy air filled her lungs as she inhaled deeply, drawing in the very essence of both heaven and earth, a symphony of life that resonated within her.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning erupted from the stormy clouds above, illuminating the dark sky and striking her with an immense force. Yet, miraculously, it left no trace, no scar upon her skin. “The heavens challenge my resolve,” she mused, standing firm and resolute amid nature's fury. In that electric moment, she felt a surge of power coursing through her veins. “I will not yield,” she reaffirmed, her spirit unbroken and unwavering in the face of the tempest.

At the tender age of thirteen, she transcended the earthly realm, piercing the veil that separated the mundane from the ethereal, and ascended into the resplendent Heavenly Realm. There, revered Elders—guardians of ancient wisdom who had devoted countless centuries to their spiritual pursuits—bowed deeply, their faces etched with awe and reverence, their voices barely a whisper: a child has surpassed us.

As she descended from the celestial heights, a cascade of luminous lotus blossoms danced in her wake, their radiant petals shimmering like stars against the twilight sky, vanishing only when she touched the sacred earth once more. The Empire erupted in jubilant celebration, fireworks of color igniting the horizon in her honor. However, amidst the pandemonium of joy and reverence, Lián Xuě's heart bore a solitary sorrow.

She pondered in silence: If none can tread the path I walk, will I forever remain cloaked in solitude, adrift in a sea of unapproachable light?

At the tender age of seventeen, she ventured into the wonders of the Immortal Realm. For three vivid days, the heavens erupted with fury, torrents of fire and shimmering silver flames cascading down like a torrential rain of stars. The Immortal Plane unfolded before her, a vast expanse woven with threads of endless light, radiating beauty that sang to her very essence. Her body thrummed with an instinctive pull to ascend, while her soul resonated with an ethereal melody, urging her to cross that luminous threshold.

Yet, amidst the celestial allure, memories gripped her heart with iron resolve. She thought of the hungry children in the forgotten villages, their eyes hollow yet hopeful, of the weary soldiers standing vigil along the treacherous borders, souls worn thin from the weight of duty, and the monks who had once regarded her with trepidation, yet became her greatest teachers.

In a moment of profound clarity, Lián Xuě turned her gaze away from the shimmering grandeur before her. “I will not leave this realm,” she proclaimed, her voice steady and resolute, echoing with the gravity of her decision. “If immortals forsake the mortal world, who will guard it against the encroaching shadows of ruin? I choose to remain. I will bear its burdens and protect its fragile beauty.”

The gateway shut with a resounding finality, its heavy doors sealing off the light. The once-bright skies faded into a muted twilight, casting a somber hue across the land. It was then that the Emperor, cloaked in majestic regalia, summoned her to the heart of the capital. He bestowed upon her the revered title of Lotus Mage (蓮雪法師)—the sacred keeper of the Celestial Temple, a vigilant guardian of the realm, and a figure of equal standing to the throne itself.

Yet, even the most revered legends are not impervious to the whispers of darkness. Shadows lurked, drawn to her radiant presence, weaving an intricate dance of intrigue and foreboding.

That same year, under the luminous glow of a swollen moon, Lián Xuě wandered through the serene gardens of the Imperial Palace. The lotus ponds shimmered like scattered silver coins, reflecting the ethereal light, while the gentle night breeze whispered secrets that chilled her skin. Tall cypress trees stood sentinel, their dark silhouettes creating a mystical backdrop as an enchanting presence emerged from the shadows—cold and graceful, pulsating with an ancient, ravenous energy. It was the Vampire Queen.

She emerged from the cloak of shadow, adorned in flowing robes of midnight silk that shimmered like the surface of a moonlit lake. Her eyes, a piercing shade of red reminiscent of polished garnets, glinted with a hidden knowledge as her smile arc-ed gracefully, sharp and alluring like a crescent blade poised to strike. Whispers had drifted through the corridors of the court, tales of her enigmatic reign shrouded in darkness—a timeless sovereign who had outlasted entire dynasties, forever elusive yet unyielding. Never before had she chosen to step boldly into the very heart of the Empire, illuminating the hushed fears and yearning intrigue that surrounded her presence.

Her gaze held steady on Lián Xuě, unwavering and intense. The air around them seemed to thicken with anticipation as she broke the silence, her voice a soft murmur imbued with awe. “You carry the scent of the immortal gods,” she breathed, as if trying to grasp the ethereal quality that surrounded him.

Lián Xuě’s heartbeat slowed to a near halt, a rarity for someone who had braved the ferocity of lightning and the scorching wrath of heaven's fire without a hint of fear. Yet, under that piercing gaze, she felt an unsettling exposure, as if her very soul was laid bare for inspection. A shiver coursed through her, igniting a strange mixture of vulnerability and intrigue. In that moment, she realized the truth of her own essence. She can taste the ethereal sweetness of the Immortal Realm lingering in the air around her, a haunting reminder of the power she carried within.

“Do I?” she inquired, her voice steady despite the tightening knot in her chest. A flicker of uncertainty danced in her eyes as she added, “Or do you catch only the scent of what you so desperately desire?”

The Queen's smile blossomed into a vivid expression, both sharp and lively, as if drawn from the depths of ancient mystery. “Perhaps,” she mused, her gaze piercing and playful. “I have tasted the blood of sages and valiant warriors alike, yet never have I stood before a being whose very veins resonate with the melody of divinity. Your essence, I sense, holds the power to transform me entirely.”

Lián Xuě gracefully folded her slender hands into the billowing sleeves of her robe, the delicate fabric whispering around her as she contained the restless stir of qi swirling within her. “Then take care, Queen of Night,” she said, her voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of warning. “To covet what flows through my veins is to court ruin with open arms.”

For a heartbeat, an enchanting silence enveloped the space, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, breaking the stillness, the Queen laughed—a sound that echoed like a haunting melody, both ethereal and captivating. With an elegant sway, she stepped back into the embrace of shadows, her silhouette blending seamlessly into the darkness that surrounded her.

“Until we meet again, Lotus Mage,” she intoned, her voice lingering like a ghostly whisper as the veil of night reclaimed her.

As the dark velvet of night enveloped her, Lián Xuě stood solitary beneath the luminous gaze of the moon. Her robes, ethereal and delicate, radiated a soft glow, each intricate petal shimmering with an almost palpable vitality, as if they were caught in a gentle dance of light. She had made the conscious choice to remain in the mortal realm, taking on the sacred duty of safeguarding its fragile inhabitants. Yet, even in this serene moment, a profound awareness crept over her, as if countless eyes—those of heaven, the very earth beneath her, and the enigmatic Queen of Night—were watching her, assessing her resolve and purpose in this world.

Though the people had already bestowed upon her the regal title of Lotus Empress (蓮雪女皇), in the quiet sanctuary of her heart, she softly pondered: If this is the path I have chosen, a journey intertwined with destiny… must I always tread it in solitude, surrounded by the fragrance of blooming lotuses yet untouched by the warmth of companionship?

The Queen did not vanish into the annals of eternity.

Night after night, as the moonlight poured like liquid silver over the lush expanse of the Imperial gardens, she returned, an ethereal specter gliding through the darkness. Sometimes she emerged as a fleeting shadow, dancing among the tall cypress trees, their gnarled branches whispering secrets of old. At other times, she settled gracefully upon the intricately carved stone benches, her presence merging seamlessly with the night, as if woven into the very fabric of that enchanting world, as natural as the gentle rise and fall of breath.

Lián Xuě, despite her better judgment, felt compelled to allow this haunting visit, captivated by the enigmatic presence that beckoned her into the realm of memories long past.

Under the shimmering glow of the moonlight filtering through the grand chamber's windows, the Queen, regal and poised, tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze piercing yet enigmatic. With an air of confidence that filled the air around her, she fixed her eyes on the Lotus Mage, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “Do you fear me, Lotus Mage?” she inquired, her voice melodic and resonant, echoing with the weight of unspoken power and mystery.

Lián Xuě stood poised, her hands resting quietly within the confines of her flowing sleeves, a picture of serene resolve. With a calm yet piercing gaze, she proclaimed, “Fear is a sentiment confined to those who waver in their beliefs and question the journey laid before them.”

A smile flashed across their face, sharp and gleaming like polished steel under the light. “And you do not doubt?” The question hung in the air, thick with expectation. Lián Xuě’s silence spoke volumes, each moment stretching out like a taut string, their eyes betraying a tumult of thoughts yet to be voiced.

On the second night, the Queen entered with an exquisite chalice filled with deep crimson wine that glimmered like rubies in the flickering candlelight. She raised the cup to her lips, the rich liquid staining them a darker shade, a seductive allure that illuminated her graceful features. With a soft, inviting smile, she extended the chalice towards her, her voice a melodic whisper, “A taste,” she coaxed, her gaze intense and unwavering. “If you will not share your blood, then at least share my cup, and let our fates intertwine in this moment.”

Lián Xuě shook her head slowly, her gaze fixating on the mesmerizing liquid that glimmered in the moonlight, setting it ablaze with fiery hues. The thought echoed in her mind: to sip was to embrace the bond proffered to her. Yet, a deeper turmoil stirred within her, an ache that coursed through her like a bittersweet melody. Why did her refusal weigh heavily on her heart, as if she were turning away from something her soul secretly yearned for? The shimmering drink seemed to beckon her, whispering promises of connection and belonging that she both craved and feared.

On the third night, the air was thick with a palpable tension, the moon casting silvery shadows across the chamber as the Queen spoke. Her tone, once teasing and light, now bore the weight of age and reflection. “I have witnessed empires rise like the dawn, only to fade into the abyss of memory, their grandeur reduced to whispers in the wind. Blood has become my immortality, a relentless cycle of thirst and longing, yet I find myself envious of you, Lián Xuě. You possess not just the gift of eternal life, but the divine grace that accompanies it—a blessing from the heavens, untainted by greed. Tell me,” she continued, her gaze piercing yet vulnerable, “do you not feel the profound burden of being so utterly unique? To exist in a realm where no other soul can tread, forever set apart from the tapestry of existence?”

Lián Xuě slowly closed her eyes, surrendering to the tide of her cultivation, which surged within her like a tempestuous sea—immense and boundless, yet in that moment, she felt achingly insignificant. “Every day,” she murmured, her voice barely cutting through the hushed atmosphere.

For a heartbeat, silence draped over them like a heavy cloak. Then, for the first time, the Queen's laughter was conspicuously absent, replaced by an unexpected gravity that hung in the air between them.

Thus, their nights unfolded—not as rivals locked in a battle of wills, nor as allies united in purpose, but as two souls entwined by the heavy threads of loneliness. One was anchored to the earth, tethered by the visceral pull of blood and the relentless pangs of hunger that gnawed at her existence. The other, though she was drawn irresistibly toward the celestial realms that beckoned her with whispering promises, remained entwined in the fabric of the mortal world by the faint yet resolute choice she had made. Together, they navigated the shadows, bound by a shared solitude that echoed in the stillness around them.

On the seventh night, when the moon hung low in the sky, glowing with a deep, crimson hue that resembled fresh blood, the Queen stepped forward, her presence more commanding than ever. She stood bathed in the eerie light, her gaze lingering on the celestial orb above. It was not a look of hunger that crossed her features, but one of profound reverence, as if she were honoring an ancient and powerful deity.

“You are the first light I have encountered that remains unwavering,” she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t help but wonder, dear Lotus Mage, if even the gods would find themselves envious of the brilliance that defines your being.”

Lián Xuě's breath hitched in her throat, a delicate silence wrapping around her like a shroud. Her hands trembled, hidden within the soft, flowing fabric of her sleeves, betraying the storm of emotions swirling inside her. In the stillness of her heart, amid the echoes of unsaid fears, she whispered to herself, though the words never passed her lips: Perhaps I am not destined to traverse this lonely path alone after all. The realization settled in her chest, a warm ember flickering amid the shadows.

As the eighth night enveloped the world in its velvety darkness, Lián Xuě felt a deep certainty settle in her heart. Gone were the moments of doubt and anticipation; she understood now, with an unwavering conviction, that the Queen would indeed arrive. The air around her was thick with expectation, the faint glimmer of stars overhead mirrored in her eyes, as she awaited the moment that would change everything.

The gardens appeared to hold their breath in anticipation of her arrival, with the lotus ponds shimmering under the moonlight, their surfaces flickering like liquid silver. The cypress trees loomed with deepening shadows, standing sentinel as if they were longing to guard the secrets hidden within their embrace.

This evening, the Queen did not remain a distant figure shrouded in mystery. Instead, she stepped forward, drawing near enough for Lián Xuě to feel the delicate chill of her presence enveloping her like a soft cascade of falling snowflakes. The air was thick with the intoxicating and forbidden fragrance of iron mingling with blooming roses, a heady combination that whispered secrets of power and allure.

“You never flinch,” the Queen murmured, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that brushed against Lián Xuě’s ear like a gentle breeze. The corners of her lips curved into a subtle smile, revealing a tranquility that belied the turmoil around them. “Even now, when every mortal would tremble and flee in fear.”

“I am no mere mortal,” Lián Xuě declared, her voice laced with an ethereal quality that revealed a hint of vulnerability despite her intent. The words slipped from her lips like a soft, shimmering whisper, betraying an unexpected warmth beneath the facade of her resolute façade.

“No,” the Queen murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the air around them. Her delicate hand rose slowly, pale fingers poised in midair, hovering just shy of the intricately embroidered lotus petals that adorned Lián Xuě’s shimmering robe. “You are something far more exquisite, a treasure beyond compare. The intoxicating fragrance of the gods lingers in your blood, a scent that stirs something deep within me. Can you fathom what it does to me, to stand so close to you?”

Lián Xuě’s heart raced, each beat echoing in her chest with a steady intensity that starkly contrasted the serene expression she wore. A sense of urgency pulsed within her, urging her to retreat, to put distance between herself and the source of her unease. Yet, she remained resolute, rooted in place as if the ground beneath her was a shield. Thoughts swirled in her mind, a chaotic dance of confusion and resolve, whispering insistently, Why do I allow her to come so close?

“Then leave,” she whispered, her voice barely rising above the hushed patter of the rain against the window, each word laced with a mixture of sadness and resolve. Her eyes glistened in the dim light, reflecting the weight of unspoken thoughts, as the air around them thickened with unfulfilled dreams.

The Queen’s laughter was a soft, velvety melody that danced through the cool night air. “And abandon the only marvel I have discovered in centuries?” Her eyes glinted with an intensity that was both fierce and alluring, sharp as the glint of fangs yet tender and gentle like the caress of moonlight on tranquil waters. “No, Lotus Mage. You embody danger, and I am an insatiable thirst. Perhaps that is why I find myself drawn back to you once more.”

On the tenth night, the Queen's hand no longer lingered uncertainly in the air. Instead, she glided her fingers along Lián Xuě’s sleeve, a touch so delicate it felt like the whisper of a breeze, yet chillingly colder than the biting night air surrounding them. The moment their skin met sent a profound ripple through Lián Xuě’s qi—not a jolt of agony, but a rush of unexpected clarity, as if the world had been coated in a glistening frost. It was an extraordinary sensation, akin to the fierce dance of flame colliding with crisp snow, igniting a spark of understanding amidst the frigid stillness.

“Your veins sing a haunting melody to me,” the Queen murmured, her breath warm against my skin as she leaned in closer. “Just one taste, and I could be reborn in ecstasy. But should you refuse me, know that I will languish, the intoxicating essence of your essence lingering in my lungs, a reminder of what I yearn for yet cannot have.”

Lián Xuě’s breath hitched in her throat, tension coiling within her as she wrestled with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside. If she gave in to the urge to bite, what fragments of herself would linger in the aftermath? And if she chose to strike, what would be left of the one she faced? The world around them seemed to stretch into an infinite stillness, thick with unspoken words and uncharted paths. Then, almost against her will, her lips parted, and gentle yet resolute words escaped:

“Then do not bite. Stay.”

The Queen’s eyes flared with an intense luminosity, a flicker of insatiable hunger morphing into something darker, more perilous—an aching longing that spoke of ancient desires. She inched closer, her breath a chilling whisper against Lián Xuě’s cheek, the delicate mist swirling in the cool night air. Moonlight danced upon her fangs, which glinted like polished silver, sharp and alluring, as if they held the secrets of the night itself.

And for the very first time, Lián Xuě found herself grappling with an unsettling realization: it was not the insatiable hunger of the Queen that filled her with dread, but rather the way her own heart stirred in response to it, teetering on the edge of fascination and fear.

The eleventh night descended with a chill that seeped into the bones, colder than any that had come before it. A delicate frost adorned the lotus leaves, making them glisten like tiny jewels beneath the pale moonlight. The air, thick with a palpable tension, shimmered as if the heavens themselves were momentarily suspended in anticipation, holding their breath in a hushed reverence for the unfolding mystery of the night.

Lián Xuě stood at the water’s edge, the silvery moonlight casting a shimmering glow over the calm pond. Her reflection danced upon the surface, a haunting image that flickered with every gentle ripple. She had vowed to herself that she would not wait, that the arrival of the Queen would have no sway over her. Yet, as the cypress trees swayed softly in the night breeze, casting long, elongated shadows that seemed to whisper secrets, her heart betrayed her, fluttering with an unexpected thrill that sent warmth coursing through her veins.

The Queen stepped forth, a vision of elegance and mystery, her gown flowing like the deepest shadows of midnight, a rich, obsidian silk that shimmered faintly under the weak light. Her eyes, ancient and luminous, glimmered with the insatiable hunger of centuries past, reflecting a world of secrets untold. She advanced with a graceful yet deliberate pace, each stride purposeful, drawing near to Lián Xuě. The air grew cooler as her presence enveloped her, the unsettling chill of her ethereal form brushing against the warmth radiating from her body, creating an electric connection in the dimly lit space.

"You allowed me to return," the Queen whispered, her voice a soft caress, rich and velvety like the finest silk. "Is that an invitation... or a tantalizing temptation?"

Lián Xuě’s lips parted as if ready to speak, but silence lingered in the air instead of words. Her breath, warm and visible like soft fog, mingled with the Queen’s icy exhalations, creating a delicate mist that danced between them in the frigid atmosphere.

Then—a pair of fingers, cold as winter’s breath, delicately lifted her chin, sending a shiver down her spine.

The Queen leaned in, her eyes tracing the delicate curve of Lián Xuě’s throat with an intensity that sent a shiver through the air. The moonlight caressed her fangs, illuminating them like daggers of silver, glistening with a tantalizing promise. In response, Lián Xuě felt her qi awaken within her, a wild pulse urging her to strike, to burn, to protect what was hers. Yet her body remained frozen in place, held captive by a force far more overwhelming than mere fear—a breathless anticipation that thrummed in the shadows between them.

The Queen did not bite. Instead, her lips brushed against the delicate hollow of Lián Xuě’s throat, carrying a chill that contrasted with the warmth of the skin beneath. It was a soft, lingering kiss, both cold and tender, hovering on the brink of something more profound. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, as if every breath held the promise of danger wrapped in exquisite restraint.

Lián Xuě shuddered, a tremor coursing through her body that felt both foreign and familiar. Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribs, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to challenge the strength of the Queen’s presence. Every fiber of her being screamed to pull away, to escape the intoxicating closeness that enveloped her like an electric fog. Yet, she remained frozen in place, caught in a web of conflicting emotions. Her mind whirled in a chaotic dance: Why do I not end this? Why does the thought of her departure fill me with such longing? Why do I crave this moment to stretch on, to linger just a little longer?

The Queen paused for just a heartbeat longer, savoring the air around her as if it were a fine wine, yearning to immerse herself in the essence that had eluded her grasp. When she finally drew back, her smile emerged, a complex blend of triumph and melancholy, curving gently upon her lips as if it held both victory and a whisper of loss.

“One day,” she whispered, her voice a haunting melody that danced through the evening air, “you will ask me for more.” With those enigmatic words lingering like a fragrant blossom, she melted into shadow, her figure dissolving into the twilight. Lián Xuě stood by the lotus pond, the delicate petals reflecting the waning light, as she felt a shiver run through her—her robes trembling softly, as if they too had been enchanted by the lingering press of those lips. The air was thick with the scent of blooming lotus, mingling with the bittersweet taste of longing that settled deep within her heart.

As the silvery moon ascended into the vast expanse of the night sky, casting a gentle glow over the land, Lián Xuě delicately traced the spot where the kiss had lingered, her fingertips icy against the warmth of her skin. Immortal by heaven’s whimsical grace, she mused, yet utterly unravelled by the profound simplicity of a single kiss.

She sank onto the cool, weathered stone bench, her hands instinctively folding into the soft embrace of her sleeves. The lotus pond before her was a shimmering canvas, the moon casting a silvery glow that danced across the surface, interrupted only by gentle ripples that spread like whispers in the night. Just as the water was fractured and unsteady, so too were her thoughts, swirling in a tumult of confusion and longing, each wave a fleeting glimpse of clarity lost to the depths of her mind.

What is this? she pondered, grappling with the swirling confusion in her mind. Why do I permit her proximity? She embodies hunger, she embodies shadow—an unsettling presence that wraps around me like a whisper in the dark. One touch from her should ignite a fierce sense of vigilance, a primal warning, not this dangerous longing that twists within me.

Her fingers lingered at her throat once more, the skin beneath her touch cold as ice, igniting a burn that felt both foreign and familiar. It was as if the very fabric of memory had manifested into something tangible, sharp and gnawing, its hidden teeth drawing blood from the depths of her recollections.

“I chose to remain in the mortal realm to protect it,” she murmured, her voice barely breaking the heavy silence that enveloped her. “Not to… not to endure this heartache.”

But the truth coiled around her heart like the serpentine echoes of the Queen’s laughter, both enchanting and unsettling. Night after night, she had returned, drawn into the magnetic pull of an unseen force. Night after night, Lián Xuě had welcomed her with open arms, each encounter a delicate dance between caution and desire. With every passing moment, what had started as a flicker of wariness transformed into a complex tapestry of emotions she struggled to unravel, a sensation so profound that it eluded any name she could conjure.

Loneliness? Fascination? Desire?

The ethereal heavens unfolded before her, vast and resplendent, shimmering with a brilliance that promised eternal wonders. Yet, in a moment of startling clarity, she turned away from that celestial invitation without a trace of hesitation. It was a single kiss, tender and free of fangs or blood, that sent tremors through her very soul, reverberating deeper than the allure of infinity itself.

Her gaze ascended to the moon, its edges glowing a haunting crimson, round and brimming with foreboding. What am I transforming into, that the Queen of Night captures my heart more fervently than the reverberations of the gods?

The thought lingered in her mind, an unrelenting shadow that chilled her to the bone. Yet beneath that icy grip, a softer, more perilous whisper crept in, urging her to question her solitude: Perhaps the longing for companionship stirs within me, igniting a desire to escape the confines of loneliness, to find solace in the warmth of another's presence.

The delicate lotus petals trembled gently on the surface of the pond, their vibrant hues reflecting the soft light of the rising sun, yet no breeze was present to cause their quivering dance.