In the time before memory, when the heavens were young and the stars still whispered to the earth, the moon and the sun moved as one. Their light intertwined across endless skies—soft silver and golden fire—never separate, never apart.
But harmony breeds envy, and the gods grew restless. They cast the moon and sun to opposite ends of the sky, condemning them to an eternal chase. From that sundered bond, the world learned the taste of longing, the ache of love lost beyond reach.
It was from this celestial sorrow that two souls were born:
Zhào Yīnyuè, the hidden moon, who gazed at the night sky with a heart heavy with unshed tears.
Jiāng Yángchóu, the sunlit river's sorrow, who carried the warmth of day but knew only the chill of absence.
They were destined to find each other.
They were cursed never to remain.
And so began their tale—a story of fleeting touches, whispered promises, and a yearning that spanned lifetimes. The moon that hides. The sun that mourns. And the love that neither time nor the heavens could extinguish.