Zi Yao had always felt lonely. Lonely for she had to grow strong enough to overthrow Hanxing, without ever arousing his suspicion. Lonely for she knew that the infernal methods she used to secure her clan's rise would never sit well with those she aimed to uplift. Lonely, for the choices and dangers she put her close kin through forced her to put distance between them—creating the mask of coldness she relied on to make things simpler for all sides.
For centuries, that loneliness had been eating at her, forcing her to seek peace in her monthly wine-drinking ritual. Over time, coldness became second nature, but still, the weight of loneliness remained—increasing as the years went by.
Now a monster in the eyes of all she cared for, Zi Yao felt as if the weight of the world had crashed on her soul, making her plummet into the abysses of despair.
