A Alegria da Escrava de Jade

The torrential rain roared, tearing a gap in the curtain-like sky, through which silver bolts of lightning violently exploded from above. A blinding flash of light illuminated a slender figure standing by the gallery.

The mottled shadows of the trees cast upon the gravel path resembled demons lurking in the abyss, their maws wide open as they surged toward Pei Muci, attempting to swallow him whole in the darkness. Yet, clad in dark robes that rivaled the night, he stood with his back straight, hands clasped behind him, composed and still.

The wild wind raged, pressing his wide, ceremonial court robes tightly against his frame. His long sleeves fluttered, and the dark silk dragon patterns seemed to claw at the rain, though a closer look suggested they were constrained by some unseen force, unable to break free. The dark red piping at his cuffs caught the pallor of the moonlight, carving sharp lines into his jaw, while his eyes, darker than the night itself, swirled with an impenetrable inkiness. In this hushed stillness, all of heaven and earth became mere backdrop to him.

A thunderclap shook the air, followed by a woman’s terrified whimper from the empty palace behind him, piercingly distinct amidst the relentless downpour. He clenched his fists, his proud, solitary back trembling for a fleeting moment. That cat-like cry clawed at his heart and lunged into his ears, demanding his attention. He knew Qingwu feared the sound of thunder.

Pei Muci suppressed the icy aura radiating from him and could not help but turn to look inside. The Ganquan Palace