THE IMMORTAL'S FORBIDDEN BRIDE

The first soldier lost his head before he could scream. Black blood splashed across the white stones of Heaven’s eastern frontier. The remaining soldiers tightened their formation as a monstrous roar shook the mountains. “Formation Three! Close the eastern gate!” General Han Ziyu shouted. Something enormous climbed out of the abyss. It had the body of a wolf, two twisted dragon horns, and a long tail covered in sharp bones. Six red eyes burned across its skull, while black flames crawled over its dark fur. “Hold your ground!” Han commanded, raising his sword. The beast struck. Three celestial soldiers flew through the air. Another was dragged across the stones by the creature’s tail. Their golden armor shattered beneath its claws. Then the clouds split open. A man descended from the heavens, his silver sword shining like a fallen star. White robes embroidered with silver dragons moved around him, and his long black hair was secured beneath a silver crown. Li Chenhao, Crown Prince of the Heavenly Realm, had arrived. “Everyone behind me,” he ordered. His voice was calm, but no soldier dared disobey. Chenhao raised his sword. Silver light spread across the battlefield, forcing the demon beast to recoil. “How many survivors?” he asked without looking away from the monster. “Seventy-three, Your Highness,” Han answered. “Nine are seriously wounded.” “Take the wounded behind the western ridge. No one approaches the gate until I give the order.” “And you?” Chenhao’s eyes hardened. “I will handle this.” The beast laughed, its voice scraping through the air. “Still pretending to be Heaven’s perfect prince, Li Chenhao?” Chenhao tightened his grip on his sword. “Name yourself before I send you back to the darkness.” “Have you forgotten the woman you once loved?” For one brief moment, something flickered in Chenhao’s eyes. Then the beast lunged. Their weapons collided, releasing a shock wave that cracked the stone beneath their feet. Chenhao moved like lightning, cutting through the black flames and forcing the creature backward. “Celestial Seal!” Seven golden chains burst from the ground and wrapped around the beast. The surviving soldiers raised their swords, channeling their power into the chains. The monster screamed. Black energy exploded across the battlefield. The chains shattered. Before the beast could reach the eastern gate, Chenhao lifted his sword above his head. “Ancient Dragon Seal!” A silver dragon erupted from the blade. It coiled around the monster and drove it toward the abyss. The creature clawed desperately at the ground. “You cannot escape your past forever!” it roared before disappearing into the darkness. Silence fell over the battlefield. Chenhao lowered his sword. A thin line of blood ran down his arm, but he ignored it. “Return the fallen to their families,” he ordered. “Heal the wounded. Double the guards at the eastern gate.” Han approached him. “Your Highness, that creature knew something about your past.” Chenhao stared into the abyss. “I know.” For three thousand years, fragments of forgotten memories had haunted his dreams. A woman beneath white flowers. A bloodstained sword. A voice whispering words he could never understand. And now, a demon had spoken of her. Someone had released that creature deliberately. Chenhao intended to discover who.  The Palace of Eternal Dawn floated above a sea of clouds, its jade towers glowing beneath the heavenly sun. Waterfalls poured from the surrounding mountains, disappearing into the mist below. This was Chenhao’s home, though he had never truly felt at peace within its walls. As he crossed the palace courtyard, he heard a young servant pleading for mercy. A supervisor stood over a trembling boy who had accidentally broken a jade vase. “Such carelessness deserves punishment!” the supervisor snapped. “Stop,” Chenhao commanded. Both men immediately bowed. “It was an accident, Your Highness,” the boy whispered. Chenhao examined the broken pieces. “Then investigate before deciding he deserves punishment. A broken vase can be replaced. A life cannot.” The supervisor lowered his head, and Chenhao dismissed them. Han Ziyu, who had followed him inside, shook his head with a faint smile. “You terrify demons but spend your time rescuing servants.” “Should I punish them to make myself appear powerful?” “No. But you could try resting occasionally.” Chenhao continued walking. “Perhaps when Heaven stops producing problems.” Han’s smile faded as he noticed the blood on Chenhao’s sleeve. “You are injured.” “It is nothing.” “One day, Your Highness, you will discover that carrying every burden alone is not a virtue.” Chenhao offered no answer. He had heard those words before. He simply could not remember who had said them first.  In the Hall of Celestial Judgment, the Heavenly Emperor awaited his son. Li Tianyuan sat upon the golden throne, his expression as unyielding as the mountains surrounding his palace. “You used the Ancient Dragon Seal,” the emperor said. “My soldiers were dying.” “That power was forbidden for a reason.” “And what would you have preferred? That I watch them die?” The emperor’s eyes narrowed. “You possess tremendous power, Chenhao. But power without restraint can destroy everything you wish to protect.” Chenhao met his father’s gaze. “The beast spoke of a woman. A woman I cannot remember.” For the first time, the emperor’s expression changed. Only slightly, but Chenhao noticed. “What happened three thousand years ago?” Chenhao demanded. “Why are there years of my life I cannot recall?” “Some memories should remain buried.” “Then why do they haunt me?” The emperor rose. “You are the Crown Prince. Your duty is to prepare for the throne, not chase shadows.” Chenhao bowed stiffly and turned away. Behind him, the emperor whispered a name. “Yuexin.”  Far below Heaven, in the peaceful village of Qinghe, Bai Yuexin knelt beside an elderly woman and carefully wrapped a strip of clean cloth around her injured hand. “Keep this dry until tomorrow,” Yuexin advised. “And please stop working in the fields until the wound heals.” The woman chuckled. “If I stop working, who will feed my family?” “Then I will bring you food.” At twenty-two, Yuexin was known throughout the village for her kindness, stubbornness, and refusal to abandon anyone in need. She lived with Madam Lin, the woman who had raised her since infancy. Years earlier, Madam Lin had discovered Yuexin beside an abandoned mountain shrine, wrapped in white silk. A mysterious lotus mark had rested upon the baby's skin. Madam Lin had never revealed everything she knew about that night. She had only promised to protect the child. Yuexin sometimes wondered why strange things happened whenever she became frightened or angry. Once, a clay pot had shattered when a man threatened Madam Lin. Another time, lanterns had burst into golden flames when someone tried to force Yuexin into marriage. Madam Lin always told her the same thing. “Never let other people's fear decide who you are.” That evening, Wei Feng, her childhood friend and a blacksmith's apprentice, waited at the village entrance with a basket. “The lantern festival begins tonight,” he said. “Come with me.” Yuexin smiled. “I promised Aunt Lin I would help her prepare dinner.” “You always have an excuse.” “Then perhaps you should bring dinner to us.” Wei Feng laughed, though disappointment lingered in his eyes.