The museum was far grander than Anna had expected.
The moment she stepped inside, her footsteps slowed. Above her stretched an enormous glass ceiling that allowed soft daylight to pour into the vast hall. The light reflected off polished marble floors and ancient stone statues arranged carefully across the room. Massive paintings filled the high walls, their golden frames glowing under the warm lights.
Around her, students from the trip wandered in small groups, whispering and pointing at the displays.
Anna stood near the entrance, observing quietly.
Beside her, Lily looked far more excited.
Lily wasn't even supposed to be here. She had somehow sneaked into the trip even though she was in a smaller class. The teachers were too busy managing everyone else to notice.
Lily tugged Anna's sleeve slightly, her eyes scanning the hall.
"See? I told you it would be worth it," she whispered.
Anna sighed softly.
"You didn't insist on coming here because of the museum."
Lily gave a small guilty smile but said nothing.
The truth was obvious. The museum belonged to a close relative of Alex. That was the real reason Lily had begged Anna to sign up for the trip.
Lily had already told Alex to come and meet them here.
Now she kept glancing toward the entrance every few seconds.
Anna leaned slightly against the railing, letting her eyes wander across the hall.
That's when she noticed him.
William was leaning casually against the wall across the room, watching her.
Their eyes met.
A slow smile appeared on his face.
Then he winked.
Anna's expression immediately twisted with disgust.
She turned away at once.
Without another glance in his direction, she began walking through the museum halls, moving past statues and displays until the voices of the students faded behind her.
She kept walking until she stopped in front of a massive gate.
It was enormous, made of dark metal with intricate patterns carved across it.
But there was something strange.
There were no guards. No ropes blocking the entrance. Nothing.
Anna frowned slightly before pushing the gate open.
The moment it moved, her eyes widened.
Beyond it stood a breathtaking staircase stretching downward through a grand open space. Elegant railings curved along the sides and a massive chandelier hung high above, its golden light reflecting across the marble floors.
Anna stepped inside and slowly walked down the stairs.
The deeper she went, the quieter the place became.
Eventually the stairs led her into another area.
Anna stopped.
A long gallery stretched ahead of her. Paintings covered the walls and sculptures stood between them, all arranged along a dark carpet that ran through the center of the polished floor.
Anna stood there for a moment, taking in the silent hall.
Anna steps into the room and stops.
The quiet of the hall settles around her like a heavy curtain. The chatter of her classmates fades behind the door as it slowly closes.
Paintings cover the walls.
Dozens of them.
Tall frames carved from dark wood line the room from end to end, each canvas glowing softly beneath the museum lights. The air smells faintly of old varnish and dust, like history itself is breathing quietly in the room.
Anna walks forward slowly, her eyes drifting from one painting to another.
Something about them feels… familiar.
Too familiar.
She stops in front of the first one.
A man stands in flowing blue robes, the fabric falling neatly around him like calm water. A sword rests against his shoulder, his fingers loosely gripping the sheath.
His posture is straight. Disciplined.
His long dark hair is tied high, though a few strands fall across his face, softening the sharpness of his features.
His eyes are lowered slightly, thoughtful… distant.
As if he carries the weight of something heavy that no one else can see.
Anna's chest tightens.
Her hand slowly rises toward the canvas.
"Yuvan…"
The name leaves her lips before she even realizes she's spoken.
She freezes.
Why does she know that name?
Why does looking at him feel like remembering something she lost?
Her fingers hover near the painting but stop just before touching it.
Her heart beats faster.
She forces herself to move.
The next painting waits beside it.
The moment she looks at it, the air feels colder.
The man in the portrait is dressed entirely in black.
Dark robes fall elegantly over his tall frame, decorated with silver patterns that gleam faintly under the light. Long black hair flows down his back, held in place by intricate silver ornaments.
His hands rest calmly behind him.
His posture is perfectly still.
Too still.
His expression is calm—but it isn't the calm of kindness.
It is the calm of someone who has watched countless lives end and no longer feels anything about it.
Anna swallows.
"Renji…"
The name echoes quietly in her mind.
God of Death.
Even trapped in a painting… he feels distant. Untouchable.
Like something that was never truly human.
A small shiver runs down Anna's spine.
She moves further down the hall.
The paintings grow darker.
The colors shift—war, power, authority.
Then she stops again.
Prince Shang.
It was suprising that the name of the kingdom was not written .
A man stands in the portrait, tall and composed.
His robes are elegant, marked with the symbols of rank and power. His posture is sharp, controlled, like a blade that has never once wavered.
His eyes are cold and intelligent, watching the world with careful calculation.
Anna's throat tightens.
Shang. The prince .
The one who always stood beside him like an unbreakable wall.
Even through paint and canvas… the authority in his presence is impossible to ignore.
But then—
Anna's gaze shifts to the next painting.
And the world seems to fall silent.
The portrait is larger than the others.
Darker.
Heavier.
The figure standing in the painting is surrounded by swirling shadows.
Smoke coils through the air around them like living darkness.
The robes are black, flowing like night itself, disappearing into the thick mist that hides most of the figure.
Anna's breath trembles.
She cannot see the face.
The smoke curls too thickly around it, concealing every feature.
But she knows.
Somehow… she knows.
Her heart begins pounding painfully in her chest.
Beneath the painting, carved deeply into the frame, are the words:
Lord of Destruction and Darkness.
Anna's knees nearly give out beneath her.
Her hand flies to her mouth.
No.
No… it can't be—
Memories crash into her mind.
Shou Feng laughing softly beside her.
Shou Feng leaning close to braid tiny flowers into her hair.
Shou Feng whispering promises under a quiet night sky.
And yet the figure in the painting stands surrounded by darkness like a storm given human form.
A destroyer.
A ruler of shadows.
Her vision blurs as tears fill her eyes.
They slide down her cheeks silently.
She doesn't wipe them away.
She just stands there in the center of the silent hall, surrounded by painted memories of a world she thought was gone…
Staring at the figure whose face she cannot see—
But whose presence she will always recognize.
And slowly…
Anna begins to cry.
She turns around wiping her eyes and looks upset and her eyes widen. Pen-zo .The wife of shou feng
To be continued...