At the edge of the western continent stood Jin Kingdom — proud, prosperous, and unyielding.

  Among the five neighboring nations — Jin, Tian, Rui, Liang, and Wu — none possessed a land quite like Jin.

  It was a kingdom where mountains met the sea.

  To the western, vast waters stretched endlessly, welcoming ships from distant lands. Merchants from Tian, silk traders from Liang, scholars from Rui, and wandering swordsmen from Wu all passed through Jin’s harbors. As the main trading gateway of the continent, its ports were never silent. The scent of salt, iron, and foreign spices lingered in the air, blending with the cries of seagulls and the rhythm of dockworkers hauling cargo.

  Behind the capital rose the great mountain range — ancient, immense, and immovable.

  The mountains curved like protective arms around Jin, forming towering natural walls along the left and right borders of the kingdom. They sealed the nation from invasion, leaving only one vast opening at the center — a natural gateway that connected Jin to Tian, Wu, and Liang. Every caravan, envoy, and army that wished to enter the continent by land had to pass through that narrow corridor.

  From afar, the mountains appeared eternal.

  Yet they were never the same.

  In spring, wildflowers bloomed across the slopes in a cascade of colors, turning stone into living tapestry.

  In summer, sunlight struck the rocky faces, casting brilliant golden reflections that could be seen even from the sea.

  In autumn, amber leaves clung to the cliffs, glowing like quiet embers against the wind.

  And when winter arrived, the mountains transformed.

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  Snow descended thick and heavy, cloaking the peaks in white. Ships approaching from the horizon would see it first — the pale crown rising above the mist. Sailors often said the mountain greeted them before the kingdom did. The white covering shimmered like a celestial banner, announcing winter long before one stepped ashore.

  The mountain was not merely land.

  It was watchtower, shield, and silent witness.

  And it had watched the Zhao bloodline rule for over a century.

  This was the 110th year of Jin Kingdom under the second emperor of the Zhao Descendants.

  The current ruler was Emperor Jin Long.

  He was known across the five kingdoms as the Golden Dragon.

  On the day of his birth, the clouds above the palace twisted into the unmistakable shape of a dragon. When sunlight pierced through the heavens, the form gleamed in radiant gold, as though a celestial dragon lingered in the sky to celebrate the newborn prince.

  The court declared it a divine blessing.

  The people called it destiny.

  From that day forward, Jin Long could no longer escape the path carved before him. Whether he wished it or not, the heavens had marked him.

  Now he sat upon the Dragon Throne, bearing the weight of prophecy and expectation.

  Only time would reveal the truth of his reign —

  whether the Golden Dragon would become a wise sovereign who uplifted his people…

  Or a ruthless ruler who burned all who stood before him.

  ?

  That evening, after dining with his Main Consort Liang, the emperor dismissed his attendants earlier than usual.

  The night air was cool.

  Behind the main palace, a waterfall cascaded down the sculpted stone cliffs — its steady roar softened by distance, like nature whispering secrets to the throne. Crickets chirped tirelessly among the palace gardens, their rhythm weaving through the hush of the night.

  Emperor Jin Long stood alone upon the balcony of his sleeping quarters.

  Below him stretched the imperial grounds. Above him — the heavens.

  His golden robes stirred gently in the wind as his gaze fixed upon the moon.

  It was changing.

  Slowly.

  Subtly.

  Red seeped across its surface like spilled ink.

  His fingers tightened around the carved stone railing.

  For years, he had feared this night.

  The ancient prophecies recorded within the sealed archives. The warnings whispered by astrologers who dared not speak too loudly. The omen tied to his birth — dragon in the sky, heaven’s chosen child.

  He had always known that blessings from the heavens demanded a price.

  And now, as the moon bled over Jin Kingdom, he felt it.

  The moment he had been afraid of… had finally arrived.

  The Golden Dragon did not look like a ruler now.

  He looked like a man waiting for judgment.

  “Is this,” he murmured softly into the wind,

  “a blessing… or a curse?”

  High above the mountains that guarded Jin, the red moon rose fully.

  And somewhere within the palace grounds…

  An ancient book began to tremble.