"When power and love merge into darkness, one must pay the price for what has been lost."

Hao Thien Loi : Halilintar

Lang Diem :Blaze

Hao Thien Toai : Earthquake

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I am a humble eunuch, a lowly being, and my entire life is but a fragment caught in the turbulent waves of the opulent palace. My name, even I find it unworthy of remembrance, let alone those around me. I have nothing of note: no talent, no beauty, and certainly no status. A person like me can only quietly breathe the heavy air of power and scheming within the palace, trying to survive each day without being swept away by the inescapable whirlpools of fate.

If my life were to be recounted just for myself, it might be summarized in a few short lines. Yet, within this place, which seems to be made entirely of silks and wealth, there are two people who have made me remember them for the rest of my life. They are the ones whose presence, even from a distance, I could never forget. They are Emperor Hao Thien Toai and "Empress" Lang Diem.

He is a ruler feared by all, as cold as ice and so cruel that he shows no mercy to anyone. Just a fleeting glance from him is enough to decide life or death, as if the entire world lies within his grasp. The overwhelming power of Hao Thien Toai is beyond doubt, but behind that exterior lies a story few know.

Who could have imagined that, in the past, Hao Thien Toai was once a gentle, warm young man, as soft as the morning sunlight? A person who always wore a warm smile and treated others with sincerity and kindness. But everything changed on that fateful day—the day when the treacherous blade pierced his trust, leaving a wound not only on his body but one that deeply scarred his soul.

That assassination attempt changed him forever. How could someone so close to death, having narrowly escaped, return to the person they once were? When the darkness of betrayal takes over, trust becomes a luxury. Since recovering, Hao Tian Toai has never opened his heart to anyone. The warmth that once filled his gaze has been replaced by a chilling coldness. Gentle words no longer reach his heart, and those who seek his mercy are met with contempt or brutal punishment.

From then on, the court only saw a ruthless emperor with eyes sharp as daggers, his soul frozen in ice. Under his reign, the empire flourished, but it was soaked in blood and tears. It was said that since that fateful day, Hao Thien Toai no longer lived for himself, but as the embodiment of absolute power, a judgmental god with no mercy. But deep within him, does any trace of the gentle young man still exist, or has it been forever lost in the relentless flow of time?

If Hao Thien Toai is like ice, so cold that it freezes his soul, then Lang Diem is the fire—burning bright and mesmerizing. He is not only the symbol of allure but also carries a pride like the glorious sunset. Every step Lang Diem takes seems to carry with it a breeze that stirs the hearts of those around him. The palace maids admire him, the high officials bow their heads, and even his enemies dare not meet his gaze, fearing that his flames would burn everything down. But few know that behind that perfect facade, Lang Diem harbors a shocking secret: he, the god of beauty and power, is actually a man.

I learned this truth one quiet night, when only the moonlight and the wind were my companions. Lang Diem sat across from me, his distant gaze fixed on the void, as if searching for memories long buried. He spoke, his voice deep yet filled with sorrow, recounting a life he had never truly lived for himself.

"I was born a man," Lang Diem said, a bitter smile flickering on his lips.

Since he was young, his family imposed upon him the need to live as a woman. The reason? His family had great ambitions—to marry him off to Hao Tian Toai, the heir to the empire, and use that union to gradually overthrow the throne. They did not hesitate to turn Lang Diem into a pawn, forcing him to wear embroidered gowns and live a luxurious, yet false life. The innocent child he once was was trapped in an identity that wasn't his, enduring judgmental glances, rumors, and even the coldness of his own self.

But fate has a way of mocking us in ways we can't predict. Once, when Lang Diem was still a child, attending a banquet in the palace with his parents, he accidentally met Hao Tian Toai. At that time, Hao Thien Toai was still a teenager, not yet the imposing and cold figure he would later become. A small accident occurred—Lang Diem fell and scraped his knee. Hao Tian Toai, with an unexpected gentleness, bent down and helped him up. The young man's eyes held no judgment, only genuine concern. In that moment, Lang Diem's heart stirred for the first time.

From that day on, even though his family's schemes still weighed heavily upon him, Lang Diem was no longer a puppet in the hands of others. Every glance, every word from Hao Thien Toai was like a small flame, quietly lighting up the dark corners of Lang Diem's heart. From being bound by conspiracy, Lang Diem willingly devoted his loyalty, even his life, to that emperor. "Even if I must descend into hell, I will not regret it," he said, his eyes burning like an undying flame. And I, moved by his story, could only wonder: Can such a flame be enough to warm the eternal ice that is Hao Tian Toai? Or will they both, in the end, become mere pieces in the cruel chess game of fate?

News of Lang Diem's family's treason quickly reached Hao Thien Toai. Others might think that the emperor would erupt in fury and order the execution of the entire traitor family. But Hao Tian Toai, in his usual cold demeanor, did not appear concerned. He merely gave a cold, knife-like glance, followed by a surprising move.

In the dim study, where the oil lamp flickered, Hao Tian Toai stood silent before his desk, holding a shiny silver dagger. Lang Diem knelt before him, his face devoid of expression. Hao Tian Toai looked down at the figure before him, his voice cold as ice:

"Do you know why I called you here?"

Lang Diem raised his head, his eyes calm, though a subtle tension lingered in them. "Because of my family," he replied, without denial or excuse.

Hao Tian Toai slightly curled his lips, a smile that was almost imperceptible, before placing the silver dagger on the table in front of Lang Diem.

"Do as you wish," he said, each word as sharp as the blade in his hand.

"I won't kill. But you must choose: them, or me."

The room fell silent, with only the faint sound of wind through the window. Lang Diem stared at the silver dagger, his hands trembling slightly, but his gaze remained unwavering.

"What if I choose my family?" he asked quietly, his voice low but enough to shatter the silence.

Hao Thien Toai stepped closer, bending down to face Lang Diem, his eyes deep as if seeking to peer into his very soul. "If you choose them," he said slowly, "you and they will disappear. I do not keep traitors by my side."

Lang Diem clenched his fists, his breath hitching. "You are cruel," he said, but there was no resentment in his words—only a painful truth.

"Cruel?" Hao Tian Toai chuckled softly, the sound cold and chilling.

"Who dares to rebel? Isn't that courting death? You know that very well, Lang Diem. Don't forget, you belong to me now."

Lang Diem stood still for a moment, then picked up the silver dagger. "I understand," he said, his voice firm, as if a decision had already been made.

Hao Thien Toai stood up straight, looking down at the person before him, his eyes devoid of emotion. "You made the right choice," he said, before turning to walk away, leaving one final remark: "I'll wait for your news."

That night, the cold moonlight illuminated Lang Diem, his clothes soaked in dark red blood. His family, those who had forced him to live a life that wasn't his own, were now nothing but cold corpses. The silver dagger fell to the ground with a dry, hollow sound, but Lang Diem did not shed a tear. His eyes were empty, yet his lips whispered a phrase:

"It was my choice."

The next day, when Hao Thien Toai met Lang Diem again, he asked nothing. He simply looked into eyes that had lost their former softness.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice still cold but with a hint of curiosity.

"Regret?" Lang Diem laughed faintly, his eyes staring into the distance. "I have no right to regret. It was the only path."

Hao Thien Toai studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "From now on, you are the only one I trust," he said, his voice like an oath carved in stone. "No more family, no more ambitions. Only you and I, together building this dynasty."

Lang Diem bowed his head and responded with a soft "Yes," but within him raged a storm. Between ice and fire, between power and sacrifice, their bond was forged in blood and tears, becoming something no one could ever break.

Although they are married in name, there has always been an invisible, fragile yet firm distance between Hao Thien Toai and Lang Diem, like a silk curtain that cannot be lifted. In the imperial court, they are the perfect pair of emperor and empress, but behind closed doors, silence is the dominant language. Their conversations are brief, even limited to mere pleasantries:

"Your Majesty, have you eaten enough?" Lang Diem asked softly, her voice light as the morning mist.

"Mm, it's alright," Hao Thien Toai answered, his eyes not leaving the imperial edict in his hands.

The conversation ended there, and outsiders could never understand why they were like this. But we know, the love between them is deeper than any affection the world could name. It's just that in this strict feudal society, where every eye is focused on each step and gesture, they are not allowed to show even the slightest weakness. Once their true love is discovered, both of them know the price they will pay is their lives.

I remember the day Lang Diem drank the poisoned soup for Hao Thien Toai. The story began with a dark conspiracy. The enemy, somehow, had infiltrated the palace and served the emperor a feast laced with poison. When the feast was brought out, everyone was still lost in laughter. But Lang Diem, with her sharp senses and usual vigilance, detected the oddity.

"This bowl of soup..." Lang Diem picked it up, her sharp eyes focused on the servant. "Who prepared this?"

"It... it came from the imperial kitchen, Your Majesty," the servant stammered.

Lang Diem said nothing further. Her hands lifted the bowl of soup, turning to Hao Thien Toai, her gaze determined.

"Lang Diem, what are you doing?" Hao Thien Toai frowned, but before he could act, Lang Diem had drunk the soup in one go. The sound of the bowl hitting the stone floor echoed sharply, and the entire room fell into a terrifying silence.

"Are you mad?" Hao Thien Toai stood up abruptly, gripping Lang Diem's shoulders, his eyes full of anger but hiding deep panic.

"You are the emperor," Lang Diem smiled faintly, her breath starting to grow labored. "You are more important than anything."

"I don't want you to do this!" Hao Thien Toai roared, his hands trembling as he held the person before him.

"Do you think my life is worth more than yours?"

"Don't say that, Your Majesty," Lang Diem smiled weakly, but her eyes were surprisingly gentle. "If I had to choose between you and myself, I would choose you without hesitation."

Three days and three nights passed, and Hao Thien Toai seemed to transform into a different person. He neither ate nor slept, only pacing back and forth in front of Lang Diem's palace. His eyes were deep in thought, his hands clenched as if wanting to crush everything. The high-ranking officials brought him reports, but he waved them away. The imperial physicians came and went, but no one dared to say Lang Diem would wake up.

On the third night, it rained heavily. The sound of rain falling felt like knives to the heart, and Hao Thien Toai sat silently by the window, his eyes staring into the sky as if trying to grasp a fleeting hope.

"She will wake up, right?" Hao Thien Toai asked the physician, but his voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

"I... I can't be sure," the physician bowed his head, his voice trembling.

Hao Thien Toai said nothing, quietly standing up and walking into the room. He sat beside Lang Diem's bed, his eyes fixed on the still unconscious person. He gently ran his hand through her hair, whispering as if to himself:

"You promised me, you would never leave me alone. Lang Diem, you can't go back on your word."

On the fourth morning, when the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, Lang Diem woke up. Her eyes slowly opened, tired yet still graceful. Seeing the familiar figure sitting beside the bed, she hoarsely spoke:

"Your Majesty... did I make you worry?"

Hao Thien Toai was startled, his eyes flashing with a glimmer of hope. "You're awake..." His voice faltered for a moment, but then he whispered, his words filled with intensity, "Do you know how close I was to going mad because of you?"

"I..." Lang Diem smiled weakly. "If you worried about me, then it was worth it."

Hao Thien Toai sat down, taking Lang Diem's hand, which was still cold but now slightly trembling.

"You must remember, Lang Diem. Next time, never make decisions like that on your own. If I have to die, I would rather die with you, than see you suffer because of me."

Lang Diem looked at him, her eyes slightly wet, but she still smiled. "Your Majesty, your love is the most precious thing I have ever received."

Perhaps Lang Diem had known for a long time that Hao Thien Toai had realized she was a man, but the young emperor had never spoken of it, nor had he shown any unusual look. He chose to remain silent, as though it were all a passing breeze, not worth concern, allowing everything to go naturally.

Hao Thien Toai, the young and powerful emperor, also established a harem like other kings. But strangely, the beauties in the harem, from the moment they were chosen, only befriended flowers and the wind, never once catching his eye. In fact, many felt forgotten in their own splendor. Rumors began to spread throughout the palace, from the maids to the eunuchs, from the high-ranking officials to the common folk. Everyone whispered, guessing: could the emperor have a secret?

One morning during court, when the high-ranking officials stood in rows in the grand hall, one of the oldest ministers could not hold back and knelt down, his voice trembling but resolute:

"Your Majesty, please forgive my sudden interruption, but matters of great importance such as continuing the royal lineage, I beg you not to delay. The harem has been established, and the beauties are in place, why does the emperor not choose someone soon to bear a son?"

The entire hall fell silent. All eyes turned to the throne, where Hao Thien Toai sat quietly. He did not respond immediately, simply picked up his tea and took a sip, as though he did not care about the plea. After a long silence, he placed the cup down, his cold eyes sweeping over the ministers:

"The court is not yet settled, and enemies still lurk outside. Do you want me to focus on matters of succession now?"

His voice was not loud, but each word seemed to carry the weight of the entire room. A few ministers lowered their heads, not daring to reply. But the old minister refused to step back:

"But Your Majesty, national peace and the well-being of the people must go hand in hand with the stability of the royal family. Without an heir, I fear—"

"Enough!" Hao Thien Toai interrupted, his voice cold as ice. "I understand your intentions. But my duty is to protect this kingdom first. The harem is merely a decoration for the palace. For now, I need no more flowers, only swords. Once the country is strong, I will consider the concerns you have raised."

His response left everyone speechless, no one daring to speak further. But Hao Thien Toai knew, deep in the hearts of the ministers, there were still doubts. His eyes flicked toward Lang Diem, who stood beside the throne, silent as ever. Her demeanor was as calm and composed as always, but in her phoenix eyes, he knew something was stirring.

That night, in the stillness of the heavenly palace, Lang Diem sought out Hao Thien Toai in his study. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the face of the man who was deeply engrossed in reading the memorials, but Lang Diem knew that his mind was not entirely focused on them. After hesitating for a moment, Lang Diem spoke softly:

"Your Majesty, you don't need to protect me like this."

Hao Thien Toai looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto the person before him. "What are you saying, Lang Diem?"

"You know exactly what I mean." Lang Diem stepped closer, his voice soft but resolute. "You've known the truth for a long time, haven't you? That I am not a woman."

Hao Thien Toai did not deny it. He fell silent, but his gaze softened, as though trying to peer into the depths of Lang Diem's thoughts. After a moment, he spoke gently:

"So what? Does that change anything?"

"I am a deceiver," Lang Diem lowered his head, his voice choked. "If you reveal this, any doubts about the lack of an heir will vanish on their own. You won't have to bear the pressure from the court anymore."

Hao Thien Toai stood up and walked toward Lang Diem. Lifting his chin with one hand, he gazed deeply into his eyes, his voice low but commanding:

"Lang Diem, do you think I keep you by my side only for the harem or for the throne? You are more important than all of that. I don't need a harem, I don't need an heir, I don't need anything if I don't have you."

Lang Diem was taken aback, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But you are the emperor. You need an heir..."

"I am the emperor," Hao Thien Toai interrupted, "so I have the right to choose how I live. And I choose to keep you with me, no matter what the world thinks."

In that moment, the silence between them was no longer a barrier, but became a silent vow—deep and eternal.

From that moment on, the bond between them grew even stronger, a love unspoken yet more enduring than any oath.

But the turmoil in the imperial court never ceases. Life in the palace is always fraught with hidden dangers, with conspiracies lurking, ready to sweep everything away. One day, amidst the political storm, when the rebels dared to challenge the throne, Emperor Hao Thien Toai became the target of a brutal assassination. Shadows appeared from every corner, and just as the sharp blade was swung, Lang Diem threw himself into the crowd, once again placing himself in the midst of the storm to protect the one he loved.

Without a word, only action. Lang Diem did not hesitate for a moment, a single heartbeat was enough for him to rush into danger, taking the fatal blow for the Emperor. The cold blade pierced through him, cutting through the tense air. Blood poured out, staining Lang Diem's attire. His body staggered, then collapsed, his vision blurred in a haze of dizziness.

Hao Thien Toai, his eyes wide, slowly bent down, his hands urgently lifting Lang Diem's small body. The pungent smell of blood filled the air, but all he could feel was the tremor in his own voice, rare and full of fear. "Are you alright?"

Lang Diem, though pale, gave a faint smile. A painful smile, devoid of life. "Perhaps... this time, I won't make it..."

"No! You mustn't say that!" Hao Thien Toai cried out, his hands gripping Lang Diem's body tightly, but the tears flowed uncontrollably. He had never allowed himself to be weak, never allowed his heart to be threatened, yet now, when he truly faced the fear of losing the only one he loved, he could not contain it.

"I'm sorry... Hao Thien Loi..." Lang Diem's voice whispered weakly, as if lacking the strength to say all the words he wanted to.

Hao Thien Toai froze, his whole body stunned, as if the earth and sky were spinning before his eyes. "You... knew?"

Lang Diem nodded gently. "Yes. From the first time we met, I knew you were not Hao Thien Toai."

The entire space seemed to fall silent, only the heavy breaths of Lang Diem and the Emperor could be heard. The truth, painful and ruthless, was finally revealed. Hao Thien Toai, the man everyone admired, had actually died in that assassination years ago. The one who replaced him on the throne was his twin brother, Hao Thien Loi, a man once rejected by society, considered an omen of bad luck, with no place in his family's heart. A life lived in darkness, yet only Lang Diem, who always recognized his existence, quietly stayed by his side.

"If I had told you earlier... perhaps, we would have had a different story," Lang Diem whispered, his breath weakening. His eyes closed, but a gentle smile still remained on his lips, as if he had let go of everything, accepting his fate.

Hao Thien Loi choked up, tears began to fall, as if an entire empire had collapsed in that moment. "Don't go! I love you... I've loved you for so long..."

Lang Diem, though barely able to hold on, still tried to open his eyes, gazing directly at the one he had loved all his life. "In this life, I cannot love you... but perhaps in the next..."

Lang Diem's soft hand brushed across Hao Thien Loi's face for the last time, feeling the pain in his eyes. Then, his hand fell limp, like a leaf falling in the cold wind. The space was now filled only with the sighs of a love that could never come to fruition. A love that had been crushed by the cold, feudal society, leaving behind a lingering pain that could never be healed.

Hao Thien Loi sat still, holding Lang Diem's body in his arms, even though he knew he could not keep him. That love, so great and so deep, yet unable to overcome the constraints of the world. In the end, Lang Diem departed, leaving a wound in the Emperor's heart that would never heal.
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"Blaze! What are you doing that's taking so long?"

Halilintar pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes quickly scanning the room cluttered with books and papers. He couldn't help but sigh when he saw Blaze still sitting quietly, his eyes fixed on the pages of a novel, his expression deep in thought as if he were lost in every word of the story. The book before Blaze was a deeply emotional tale, with life's twists and turns that made the reader unable to hold back tears.

"I'm reading the novel you gave me. It's amazing!" Blaze looked up, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, unable to hide his fascination.

Halilintar smiled warmly, his eyes playful yet full of affection. He walked over and gently ruffled Blaze's hair, as if speaking to a younger sibling.

"Alright, come down for dinner. You've been reading for so long, you've lost track of time." His voice was warm and gentle, yet carried a hint of mild reproach, as if Blaze had no choice but to get lost in the pages.

Blaze lazily stood up, dragging his steps as if trying to prolong the moment with the book. But just as he was about to step down the stairs, something unexpected happened.

"What are you doing?!" Blaze cried out, his voice tinged with panic as Halilintar suddenly picked him up without giving him a chance to react.

"You're too slow, I'll carry you to speed things up." Halilintar joked, though his tone held a clear sense of care. He gently tightened his hold on Blaze, the warmth and closeness radiating through him, filling Blaze with an unspoken energy that made him smile.

"I'm not a child for you to carry!" Blaze teased, but there was a trace of gentle happiness in his eyes that he couldn't hide. Even though he had grown up and sometimes pretended to be rebellious, Blaze always cherished these moments—moments where it was just him and Halilintar, no words needed, only their presence.

Halilintar squinted playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Aren't you becoming a lazy person? If I let you walk, you might not even make it down by the end of the day." His tone was light, yet mischievous.

They walked down the stairs, soft laughter echoing between them, gentle enough to lift the quiet mood that had lingered earlier. Even though the story in the book was a tear-jerking tragedy, this moment was completely different. It was a happy, serene ending, like a soft melody drifting through the air.

The contrast between the sorrowful story and this warm moment not only highlighted the beauty of Blaze and Halilintar's relationship but also served as proof of the deep friendship and love they shared. Indeed, life isn't always like it is in novels, but it is these simple, sincere moments that create their own unique story.

End