Jin Yue stopped at a secluded stretch of riverbank, where the reeds bowed with the wind and moonlight spread across the water like spilled silver. The city's noise faded behind him, replaced by the soft rush of flowing currents.
He knelt by the water.
A pale, wavering reflection stared back…too clean, too gentle.
The kind of face that would attract the wrong sort of attention in a brothel full of wolves.
If he walked in like this, he would stand out instantly.
Not as a servant girl.
Not as a guest.
As prey.
I need to disappear, he thought.
Become just another painted flower in the night.
Hours earlier, he had passed through a small night market stall selling women's clothing.
Silk robes dyed pink and lavender hung from wooden beams, fluttering softly in the evening breeze. Ribbons and hairpins glittered inside woven baskets, catching stray lantern light like scattered stars.
The old seamstress sitting behind the stall lifted her head the moment his shadow fell across her table. Her cloudy eyes brightened with interest.
"Well now," she said, voice crackling like old parchment, "you don't look like someone who usually shops for lace and ribbons."
Jin Yue kept his expression calm.
"I'm buying for my sister."
The seamstress narrowed her gaze, not unkindly…just curious.
"Oh? And what's the occasion?"
Jin Yue paused a fraction too long.
"…She needs new clothes."
"Mhm." The old woman tapped her fingers on the counter. "And what size is your sister?"
Jin Yue blinked.
She laughed immediately, waving a hand.
"You don't know, do you? Men never know."
He lifted his chin slightly toward a soft lilac robe hanging to the left.
"That one should fit."
The seamstress's eyebrows rose.
"Hm. Good eye. That would fit you."
Jin Yue stiffened.
"…My sister," he corrected.
"Mhm." The old woman smiled as though she didn't believe a word. "Of course."
She plucked the robe down and held it up to his shoulders…he stepped back instinctively, but she was quicker.
"Tch. Calm down, boy. I'm just measuring from afar."
He sighed inwardly.
Her gaze sharpened further as she added hairpins to the pile.
"You know… with that face of yours, if you ever got desperate, you could work in a brothel and make more money than most girls."
Jin Yue froze.
The seamstress burst into laughter, slapping her knee.
"I'm joking, I'm joking! Look at you, you almost dropped your coin pouch."
He hadn't…but she seemed delighted thinking she had flustered him.
As she wrapped the robe in paper, she glanced up again, studying him.
"You've got a quiet way about you," she murmured. "Soft steps. Careful eyes."
A beat.
"Not normal for a young man."
Jin Yue offered a polite nod, already eager to leave.
"I should go."
"Take care," she said, handing him the bundle. "And tell your sister that if this robe disappears and she finds it under your bed… well, I won't judge."
Jin Yue left before she could laugh again.
Now, those very robes lay folded beside him on the riverbank…
silk shimmering under the moonlight, waiting for him to step into a role he had never imagined playing.
He stepped into the river, the moonlit surface parting around his legs in trembling silver ripples. The night wind brushed against his damp skin, cool enough to chase away lingering heat, yet he did not flinch. The water climbed higher past his calves, his knees, his waist until it met the steady rise and fall of his breath.
The dirt and dust of the temple dissolved slowly into the current, peeling away from the contours of his body.
Under the soft glow of moonlight, his figure came into quiet focus: broad shoulders sculpted by years of harsh training, a lean torso lined with faint, pale scars, and a single deep slash across his back, stark against his skin. Evidence of a pain he never spoke of, the silent proof of a man who had endured far more than the world ever knew.
And yet…
his face held a beauty that didn't belong to this world.
After rinsing the last of the river's chill from his skin, Jin Yue retrieved the bronze razor he had bought earlier. The small blade shimmered, catching the floating reflection of the moon.
Lifting his chin slightly, he began to shave. Each stroke moved with quiet precision, clearing the faint stubble along his jaw until the hard edges of his face softened under the moonlight. The razor scraped gently as he tipped his face to remove the thin moustache shadowing his upper lip, revealing the natural fullness of his mouth.
Moonlight deepened the contrasts of his form…the masculine cut of his jaw balanced by skin smooth as river-polished jade. Water slid down his neck in silver threads, catching on the faint scars that marked the life he never spoke of. His hands moved with elegant steadiness, slender but calloused in a way that told of old survival rather than softness. When he rinsed the razor, the cool metal chimed against stone, a small, lonely sound swallowed by the night.
Then he gathered his dark, damp hair and tied it into a loose knot. A few strands clung to his cheek before he brushed them aside, and in that subtle shift, his reflection changed…lighter, gentler, touched with an ethereal beauty that the moon seemed to claim as its own.
Then he leaned over the river again.
The water offered him his reflection.
A face both strikingly manly and impossibly beautiful, framed by damp hair that clung to his temples. High cheekbones, long lashes, lips with natural color features carved with the gentleness of the moon and the resolve of someone who had lived through storms.
No wonder the seamstress had stared.
Jin Yue studied himself for a moment…
as if seeing a stranger wearing his face.
Then he exhaled softly, ripples distorting the reflection.
Jin Yue frowned slightly.
Too striking… this is troublesome.
He dipped his hand in river mud and dabbed a faint shadow across his cheeks, softening the ethereal glow just enough. Then he slipped into the lilac robe he had bought…simple, unassuming, but enough to pass.
He looked convincingly like a struggling woman seeking coin.
Convincingly enough to fool the guards.