The firelight in the Scorpion King's tent flickered low, casting sharp shadows on the black silk walls. Hei Xiezhi, known to the world as the Black Scorpion, sat on a cushioned seat carved from obsidian, his fingers steepled as he stared at the map of Lianhua spread before him. One of his most trusted watchers, cloaked in a crow-feather robe, knelt beside him.
"My king," the watcher spoke cautiously, "I bring word. Emperor Feng Huojin and his son have entered Lianhua. They seek alliance... and have petitioned for the Princess's hand in marriage." He said bowed and left.
The air in the tent changed. Cold, dense. Zhao Xian's fingers tightened. Silence reigned for a moment until the sound of paper crumpling broke it. His eyes closed slowly, and a memory surged forward from the pit of his heart like a scar reopening.
---
Years Ago…
They were young then. Not kings. Not conquerors. Just young princes.
Hei Xiezhi and Huojin were both eighteen, princes enrolled in the prestigious House of Rising Virtue, a royal training ground nestled atop the cliffs of Yunhai Ridge. It was a place where princes and princesses from all kingdoms came to train in warfare, diplomacy, leadership, and spirit control. There, titles mattered less than skill. And friendship... it bloomed like wild blossoms.
Among the noble students, none captured more attention than Princess Rulan of the Baihua Kingdom. Known as "The Blossom" for both her name and her ethereal beauty, Rulan had cascading silver-blue hair and eyes as radiant as moonlit water. Her intellect matched her elegance, and her presence drew admiration from all the young royals.
Hei Xiezhi, son of the feared King of the Southern Reaches, admired her from afar. He'd never dared speak to her directly, but Huojin had noticed the way his friend's gaze lingered every time Rulan passed.
"You know," Huojin teased one afternoon as they trained with wooden staffs under the blooming cherry trees, "if you stare any harder, her dress might catch fire."
Hei Xiezhi rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
"Why don't you just talk to her? You're the Prince of the South. Just walk up and say: 'Hello, I'm the handsome heir of a bloodthirsty monarch. Fancy some tea?'"
"You're not helping."
Huojin chuckled. "Fine, I'll help. I'll talk to her for you."
Hei Xiezhi hesitated. "You'd do that?"
"Of course. What are best friends for?"
That evening, Huojin found Princess Rulan alone by the lotus pond, reading beneath a lantern tree. The sun was just setting, and a breeze stirred her silver-blue hair. He greeted her politely, and they exchanged a few words.
Then, he brought up Hei Xiezhi.
"Do you know Hei Xiezhi?"
Rulan smiled softly. "Yes. The son of the Southern King. Quiet. But I've seen him train."
"He's my best friend," Huojin said, settling beside her. "And he asked me to tell you something."
"What is it?" she asked, her voice touched with curiosity—and something else.
Huojin looked at her. Really looked. And for a moment, everything stilled. Her eyes met his, and a strange feeling twisted in his chest. Unfamiliar, Safe.
He hesitated. Then twisted the message.
"He... sends his greetings. He said he hopes we can all be good friends."
Rulan's smile dimmed a little. "I see."
"You know, he's not like his father," Huojin added quickly. "He's kind. Loyal. Just... misunderstood."
"He's still the son of a tyrant," she said, but her tone wasn't cruel—just sad. "Yet, I'll try."
---
The three of them grew closer. They studied together, laughed together, competed in duels and debates. Hei Xiezhi now dared speak with her then, and she listened. But all the while, something was shifting.
Huojin found himself drawn to her more and more—her sharp wit, her gentle strength, the way her laughter danced in the wind.
And she, in turn, leaned toward him. Subtly, but unmistakably.
One night, after a long evening sparring beneath the rain, Huojin and Rulan found shelter together beneath the balcony of the eastern pavilion. Their hands brushed. Their eyes locked. She whispered something—he didn't hear—and before he knew it, they kissed.
It was gentle, fleeting, but it burned. When they parted, Huojin stood frozen beneath the downpour, his heart racing.
That night, he realized he had developed a dangerous feeling for her—one that could not coexist with loyalty to his friend.
He didn't confess it. Not to her. Not to Zhao Xian.
But time made it harder to hide.
Hei Xiezhi, unaware of the deepening bond between his best friend and the girl he loved, finally gathered his courage.
One spring festival evening, Hei Xiezhi stood before her, a carved hairpin of obsidian and ruby in his hand.
"Princess Rulan," he said, with all the courage he could muster, "I admire you. I have for a long time. I wish to court you."
Rulan's expression faltered. She took a slow breath.
"Xiezhi," she said softly, "you are brave and strong... but darkness clings to you. I've seen the way you lash out in anger. How your eyes change when you're challenged. That darkness isn't your fault—but it scares me."
"You think I'm like my father."
"And I have feelings for someone else."
The words hit like a blade.
"Who?" he demanded.
She didn't answer, but when she looked past him and toward the path where Huojin often walked, he knew.
Rage stormed through his veins.
Later that night, he cornered Huojin near the moonlit training yard.
"You stole her from me," Hei Xiezhi said, his voice tight with fury.
"I didn't mean to—"
"You betrayed me!"
Before Huojin could respond, Hei Xiezhi yanked a ceremonial pin from his hair and slashed across Huojin's cheek. Blood poured down.
Educators and students rushed in. Rulan screamed and ran to Huojin's side.
That was the end of their friendship.
Hei Xiezhi was suspended from the training school and sent back to his father's court. The scar he'd carved into Huojin's face never truly healed—nor did the one Huojin left on Hei Xiezhi's heart.
Years passed. Huojin married Rulan. They had one son— Lianyi. Hei Xiezhi watched from afar as the man he once called brother built a kingdom of peace and love.
Hei Xiezhi, in turn, built one of terror and strength, just like his father.
But he never forgot.
---
Back in the Present...
Hei Xiezhi's eyes snapped open.
His jaw clenched. His voice was cold.
"I will never rest until I destroy you, Huojin. You are an unhealable injury in me, and I'll never forget that. I will lay waste to your land... and take back what is mine."