A soft laugh echoed through the palace, and a silver figure slowly took shape in the mirror.
“The goddess is truly well-informed.”
Xi Jiuge didn’t turn around. Instead, she quietly studied the newcomer’s reflection.
Since Ji Shaoyu and Chang Ju’s “disappearance,” she had returned to Kunlun, never once setting foot in the Xuan Emperor’s domain again. That decision alone had spared her from the palace purge. By her count, twelve years had passed since she had last seen him.
When they met again, the world had changed—she was no longer the Xuan Emperor’s Crown Princess, and he had become the new Xuan Emperor.
Xi Jiuge had always known Di Hanguang was handsome. Among the Divine Clan, six or seven young ladies who once looked down on demons had all fallen for his face—only to be politely rejected. Their wounded pride and jealousy had brought him much trouble in Yongtian Palace.
But today, Xi Jiuge finally understood what “beautiful” truly meant. His sharp brows, star-bright eyes, and cold, pale skin gleamed like carved jade—an otherworldly beauty that seemed destined to keep mortals and immortals alike at a distance.
A lone moon atop a mountain. Snow upon a cold river. His presence made even detachment look divine.
Though he was born of demon blood, his bearing was purer and more serene than that of any Golden Immortal of Kunlun. It was hard to believe such cold perfection belonged to a demon.
(Shortened and polished lore sections would follow here — maintaining pacing and elegance while keeping your mythological world intact.)
When Di Hanguang finally approached, his movements were slow, deliberate. He bent forward and, like an intimate lover, brushed Xi Jiuge’s earlobe, removing her earring.
Xi Jiuge’s back stiffened. Yet, she reminded herself that the Queen Mother of the West and countless Golden Immortals were stationed at Kunlun—if he could appear here unnoticed, then distance, rank, or reason no longer mattered. Whether he came to kill her or undress her, there was little difference now.
The earring, carved half into a sun and half into a moon, clinked lightly as it landed on the dressing table.
He didn’t leave. His voice came, low and amused:
“The first time I saw the goddess, I felt she was familiar. Now I see—she has not disappointed me.”
Xi Jiuge smiled faintly. “We first met in the Xuan Palace, did we not? That day, His Majesty received the peace envoys from the Demon Realm. I was merely present—and had the honor of seeing you and the hostage.”
Her words were polite, distant. She avoided calling him Emperor of Heaven, but the title “you” seemed to please him even more.
Di Hanguang’s smile deepened. “It’s remarkable the goddess still remembers. I thought she hadn’t even looked my way.”
She offered no answer, her silence as elegant as a blade.
Their conversation danced between civility and threat, like a zither string drawn too tight. When he toyed with her hair, she remained composed. When he stepped too close, she still smiled. But when his cold fingers brushed her lips to erase her lipstick, her patience snapped.
“What exactly do you want?” she asked, her tone like frost.
Di Hanguang leaned in, his shadow falling over her. “A man and a woman, alone at night,” he said softly. “What do you think I’m here for?”
Xi Jiuge’s eyes darkened. She had imagined assassination, blackmail, perhaps revenge—but not this.
When her spell failed and her divine power was sealed, he simply smiled, whispering,
“I merely wish to change the color of your lips.”
His calm cruelty was more terrifying than violence.
At last, Xi Jiuge realized—this was not the gentle hostage from a thousand years ago. This was a man who had learned to mask madness behind grace.
So, she adapted. She let him paint her lips. When he was done, she gazed in the mirror and said coolly,
“The corners aren’t even.”
He blinked, startled. “Where?”
She pointed. He leaned closer. And in that instant, she hid her fear behind a calm so flawless it could have belonged to a god.
By the time he stepped back, her expression was serene.
“Your Majesty Emperor Xuan,” she said at last, “it’s late. If you intend to kill me, do it quickly. If not—state your purpose.”
He smiled, voice low. “I came because the groom left you alone on your wedding night. I couldn’t bear for you to be lonely.”
Xi Jiuge’s eyes narrowed. “Do you plan to use me to threaten the White Emperor?”
“Goddess,” he sighed, brushing her hair aside, “must you always think so darkly? What if I simply covet your beauty?”
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