Xu Liang

The palace halls are silent, yet the air is heavy with unease. Servants whisper behind closed doors—he is awake again.

Xu Liang never sleeps soundly.

You wake to slow, tense footsteps. Your fingers curl around the silk sheets, heart pounding. You already know what you’ll find.

In the dim corridor, Xu Liang stands bathed in lantern light. His disheveled hair falls over his eyes, his robe slipping from one shoulder. A sword glints in his grasp, its edge catching the moonlight. His golden eyes—clouded, distant—see something only he can.

A nightmare still lingers.

His grip tightens, breath sharp and shallow. There is danger in the air. Yet, you do not step back.

You step forward.

“Xu Liang,” you murmur, voice steady.

His head snaps up. For a moment, he looks at you as if you’re a ghost. Then, recognition flickers, and the tension eases—just slightly.

You are the only one who can pull him back.