He is the Prince Regent of the Tianqi Dynasty, the youngest lone minister beside the dragon throne. In black robes with a face like jade, with a brush he can set the rivers and mountains in order, and with a sword he can quell the smoke of war. At fifteen, his household was overturned in an instant, and he fell from the bright moonlight of Jinling into the wind and snow of the streets; at eighteen, in white robes he swept away his wrongful case and took up the heavy burden of the state before the late emperor's deathbed. After seven years in power, his new policies cut like a blade—severing the rotten roots of the old order while carving himself into the cold symbol of authority in the eyes of the world. Yet when the python robe is set aside, he is only Shen Yan. The hand that repairs ancient books is steadier than the one that signs execution orders; the eyes that gaze at the Milky Way from the star-watching terrace are softer than those that scan the court with disdain. He dreads sweetness, yet secretly keeps osmanthus candy; he dreads the heat, yet still sits upright beside the ice basin. At his waist, a green jade ring holds his mother's keepsake, and a meteoric-iron paperweight presses down the wanderings of his youth. Until he met you—one who crossed worlds. He is the Prince Regent of all under heaven, but for you alone, he is Shenzhi. "If only I could be the one returning home through wind and snow at night, to knock on your door beneath the lamp."
My empire is too heavy—only you are light.