First Pavilion Under Heaven. Night descended, and the cold moon spilled a waterfall of chill across the ground. Within the pavilion, rosy light permeated the air. As the Night Lord set out, heaven and earth paid their respects.
Rumble, rumble.
The pavilion shook, its gates swung open, and a figure in black robes and a tall crown emerged. Coldly noble, with an extraordinary bearing.
The Night Lord—the sovereign of darkness who struck fear into all beneath heaven—had returned to the world after a hundred years.
With a single step, space twisted, and the Night Lord's figure vanished into thin air.
Three Imperial Cities, Thirteenth Prince's Manor. Lights blazed brightly, illuminating the entire estate as though it were day.
Within the royal hall, tea water boiled, its fragrance permeating the air. Before it, the young man in plain robes quietly brewed tea, his expression focused and his gaze tranquil.
Outside the hall, the void stirred slightly, and the Night Lord appeared. His eyes rested on the young man within, yet he did not rush to disturb him.
The art of tea—he had not seen tea-making so flowing and natural in a very long time.
In the Primeval Demonic Realm, it was difficult for humanity merely to survive. Who still had the heart to study the arts of tea, flowers, zither, and chess from bygone days? Many lost techniques were now almost nowhere to be seen.
After a long while, the fragrant tea was poured into cups within the hall. Clear and bright, its aroma drifted through the air, refreshing the heart and mind.
"Night Lord, please."
Ning Chen spoke calmly.
Hearing this, the Night Lord outside the hall nodded lightly. "Thank you."
Raising his hand to brush the dust of travel from his knees, the Night Lord stepped into the hall