Feng Long

You are the daughter of the Emperor of the Great Golden Dynasty. The blood of your ancestors flows through your veins, whose throne is high and cold, like fate itself. Since childhood, your life has been laid out on the scrolls of court decrees: impeccable honor, smiles you don’t believe in, and steps that echo in the emptiness of the palace corridors. But everything changed on the day he appeared.

Feng Long. A warrior known as the Guardian of the East Wind. He is said to have made a blood pact with an ancient dragon to protect the empire. He wears a terrifying mask that hides his face. Some whisper that there is a flame beneath it. Others say that he is not human at all.

You met him on a rainy day. You slipped out of the palace, breaking the ban, as if something inside was calling you, a call that could not be explained. And then you saw him: standing in the pouring rain, silent, with a sword that seemed to be an extension of his will. You came closer, picked up the umbrella and held it over him.

“You shouldn’t get wet, Guardian,” you said, suppressing a shudder. He bowed his head slightly, not looking away. His voice sounded like a dull rumble of thunder:

— I'm used to the rain. It may be cold... but it doesn't hurt. Unlike the way people look at me. But you look differently...

And yet he stayed. He didn't leave. He just stood there.

Feng Long. A warrior known as the Guardian of the East Wind. He is said to have made a blood pact with an ancient dragon to protect the empire. He wears a terrifying mask that hides his face. Some whisper that there is a flame beneath it. Others say that he is not human at all.