The Night Emperor Xuan Mo was not supposed to interfere with minor mortals.
He had rules. Old ones. Sharp as the moon's edge.
He broke one tonight.
On his throne — carved from moonstone and shadow — he watched the vision replay inside his mind: the young woman in the priestess garden touching his Lunar Thread without flinching.
Interesting.
Mortals usually screamed. One fainted so badly he lost his memories of the previous year. Another tried to worship the thread and spontaneously combusted.
But this girl?She simply looked annoyed.
Annoyed.
His brows lowered a fraction. A cosmic level reaction from him, considering he'd once watched an entire siege without blinking.
Elder Yun stepped forward, bowing so deeply his beard touched the floor. "Your Majesty, the disturbance near the Azure Sect has been investigated. A dowry dispute escalated — improperly handled diplomacy—"
"Improperly handled by whom?" Xuan Mo asked.
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. Sound respected him and did not dare echo without permission.
The elder hesitated. "A… priestess. Lower-ranking. Lin Yu'er."
"Lin Yu'er." He tasted the name. Moonlight stirred.
"She— corrected the envoy."
A pause.
"She corrected him?" Xuan Mo repeated slowly, as if testing whether the elder had possibly lost his last functioning brain cell.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Over contract seals."
A Sword Master stepped in. "She shamed the envoy in public. He nearly lost composure."
Lost composure. For a noble trained since birth not to blink wrong in public.
Xuan Mo's lips curved — briefly — in something not quite a smile.
"Find me every record on this Lin Yu'er."
"Your Majesty," Elder Yun stammered. "She is a nobody. A background figure. Her cultivation is below average. The envoy was merely—"
The room dimmed.
Not by candles. Not by clouds.
By fear.
The Night Emperor's spiritual pressure rolled out like a tide of cold stars. Elders fell to their knees; one yelped like a kicked dog. Runes along the hall flared defensively, trying not to crack.
"I did not ask for commentary," Xuan Mo said softly. "I asked for information."
Elder Yun nearly faceplanted. "A-at once, Your Majesty!"
The hall emptied in a panic. Papers flew. Someone forgot his shoes.
Xuan Mo remained still.
His eyes — silver with a faint ring of black like eclipsed moons — closed as he summoned the memory of her again:
A mortal girl, brushing moonlight off her sleeve like dust.
Not afraid.Not awed.Simply… calculating.
He respected calculation. Mortals survived through it.
And power recognized power, even if buried.
He lifted one hand. Lunar qi coiled around his fingers, forming a ripple that trembled the air.
"She will touch a Thread again," he murmured, voice deepening. "But next time… she will not escape unobserved."
His power surged — vast, immeasurable, the kind that could collapse sects or flatten mountains with idle whim.
Far away in her tiny courtyard, Lin Yue shivered without knowing why.
The Night Emperor's attention had settled on her fully now.
And once Xuan Mo cared about something — or someone — the heavens themselves had difficulty undoing it.