The King and the Prisoner.

The events take place in ancient China.

Emperor Liao Shen ascended the throne not by right of blood, but by right of the sword.

At twenty-five, the palace was drowned in screams, and the marble turned scarlet. His brothers fell by his hand, and his father died looking into his son's cold amber eyes. From then on, he was known as the Bloody Emperor.

If the Moon is a whisper in the darkness, then the Sun is the sword's strike. He is depicted as a mighty warrior or king in golden armor. Tall, with a fiery gaze that is impossible to look away from without being blinded. His skin is like bronze, and his hair resembles the flame itself.
He doesn't exude calm. He exudes power, heat, and inexorability. While the Moon gives you rest, the Sun demands you act, fight, and submit. This is a god who doesn't forgive mistakes.

The Moon deity is often depicted as a beautiful woman. A slender woman who exudes calm. Pale skin, long white hair, blue eyes. A silver, almost transparent dress, like moonlight. A calm, detached expression and a quiet, laconic voice.
Pale skin, snow-white, silvery, almost transparent, moonlight-like robes, and blue eyes with long white hair. A perfect, cold face.
She looks like the embodiment of calm. Cold, unattainable... perfect. The moon is about softness, about something that doesn't hit you in the forehead like the sun. The moon is cunning. She hides in the shadows, she is deceptive.
The Moon Deity is actually a guy. A long, long time ago, the Moon Deity and the Sun Deity descended to earth among people. Apparently, people mistook him for a girl because of his features. Everyone sees what they want. For them, a man had to be like the Sun Deity. There was no other way.

He was thin, with unhealthily pale skin, long snow-white hair, and piercing, lifeless eyes. He was blind and wore a white blindfold. He was dressed in a simple white hanfu, with white bandages on his wrists. They covered the scars left by the ropes, suggesting a long period of captivity.
A calm, clear voice. Long, straight hair, whiter than the purest snow. A serene expression on her face.

Tall, with shoulder-length black hair and sharp features, his cold, piercing amber eyes instilled fear in him simply by his presence. Strongly built, cold. He had carved his way to the throne through the blood of his brothers and father. He disliked words and was very impatient. He always got what he wanted. He listened to no one and lived by his own rules.