Lin Yue woke to the sound of chaos.
Distant shouting. Boots. Running. Papers flying.Basically, the palace equivalent of:
"OH NO THE EMPEROR IS DOING SOMETHING EMOTIONAL—EVERYBODY PANIC."
She sat up groggily.
Immediately, two palace attendants burst in, pale as if they'd seen a ghost punching taxes.
"Miss Lin! You must prepare quickly!"
"For what?" Lin Yue croaked.
"The Grand Conclave! The Emperor summoned every sect leader! They say it's because of… you."
Of course it was.Of course.
Lin Yue put on the robes they handed her — soft moon-silk, white with silver embroidery. Too fancy. Too delicate. Too "hello, please target me, I scream 'plot relevance.'"
When she stepped into the hall, dozens of nobles and warriors stared.
Some in fear.Some in awe.Some with the strained expression of people trying not to scream.
She whispered to a servant, "Did I do something… last night?"
"You survived His Majesty's soul-binding technique," the servant whispered back. "That is equivalent to killing a minor god with your bare hands."
"Oh," Lin Yue said. "Sure. Totally normal."
Xuan Mo appeared.
The crowd dropped into bows like collapsing dominoes.
He ignored everyone and went straight to her.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached out—
—and adjusted a loose thread on her sleeve.
If anyone else had done this, it would've been cute.But the Night Emperor?Fixing someone's clothes?
One elder fainted so hard he might've transcended.
"Walk with me," Xuan Mo said.
She did. Because not doing so felt like suicide.
His aura wrapped around her — not smothering, but undeniably possessive, like shadows curling protectively.
"Why are we having a world meeting today?" she whispered.
"To address rumors," he replied.
"What rumors?"
"That you are my destined empress, the reincarnation of the moon goddess, a celestial anomaly, or a weapon crafted by fate."
She blinked. "…That's quite the selection."
"I will dispel the falsehoods."
"Which are the falsehoods?"
Xuan Mo did not answer.
Terrible sign.