Futile Devices Scans

The outer walls of the imperial palace of the Hua Dynasty:

All sounds had fallen silent. The night was unnaturally still—cold moonlight, sparse stars, and an eerie quiet that hung heavily in the air. The late autumn wind pierced to the bone.

Against that vast stretch of palace wall stood a single tall figure dressed in pale moon-white. Soft and elegant—yet strangely out of place.

“Who goes there?!”

One of the guards suddenly spotted the flash of white upon the wall and barked sharply.

Yet the man in white seemed not to hear. He continued walking slowly along the edge of the wall, as though wandering in his own thoughts.

Receiving no answer, the guard grew impatient. He drew the fire-tipped bow beside him and aimed directly at the pale figure, ready to release an arrow.

“Stop!”

Before the attendant could announce it, a deep, powerful voice rang out from behind them—low, commanding, and filled with authority.

Startled, the soldiers hurriedly lowered their bows and turned around in astonishment.

The thunder of hooves rose in the distance. In the darkness, a flash of brilliant imperial yellow could faintly be seen approaching.

Realization struck the guards immediately.

They dropped to their knees in perfect unison, heads lowered in reverence.

A group of riders galloped closer. Only when they drew near did the breathless voice of an attendant ring out behind them:

“His Majesty the Emperor has arrived!”

The current ruler of the Hua Dynasty, Feng Xuanyi, dismounted with the Imperial Guards accompanying him. Everyone present knelt to receive him.

With lowered heads and clasped fists they proclaimed respectfully:

“Long live the Emperor! Long live His Majesty! Ten thousand years!”

Everyone—

except one person.

On top of the city wall, the slender figure in moon-white looked even thinner beneath the weight of the night, as though a passing breeze might scatter him apart.

Feng Xuanyi paid no attention to the commotion before him.

His gaze locked tightly onto that fragile figure swaying at the edge of the wall. Not daring to relax for even a moment, he gathered his internal energy, channeled it into his feet, and hurried up the winding stone steps leading toward the wall.

The generals below were completely bewildered.

Without receiving a command, none of them dared rise from their knees. Yet curiosity gnawed at them as they secretly lifted their eyes.

Their usually composed emperor had clearly lost his usual restraint—but no one knew why.

“What are you all still doing standing there for?! Hurry and follow him to protect His Majesty!”

Mo Yan, who had served at Feng Xuanyi’s side for years, came running after him, shouting between ragged breaths.

Only then did the generals dare turn their heads openly.

Following the direction of Mo Yan’s pointing finger, they saw the pale figure standing opposite the emperor’s golden silhouette.

“That… that’s Her Majesty the Empress!”

At those words, everyone shuddered violently.

Who cared about etiquette now?

One by one they scrambled up the stone steps toward the city wall.

Watching the two figures facing each other in the distance—

one clothed in imperial yellow, the other in moon-white—

Mo Yan felt countless emotions surge through his heart.

He had entered the palace as a child and grown up beside his master.

He had watched his master rise from an overlooked prince to the supreme ruler beneath heaven.

He had seen him endure battlefield bloodshed and political intrigue until the once innocent prince was tempered into steel.

Through conspiracies, warfare, and countless hardships, Mo Yan had followed him through it all.

But he was only a servant.

Even the most favored servant remained nothing more than a servant.

No matter how great the storms they endured together, the truth never changed:

A master was a master.

A servant was a servant.

Everything he had experienced taught him one lesson—

To survive, he must speak little and tread carefully.

Just like his name:

Mo Yan — Speak not.

And so he could only watch.

Pray silently.

No matter joy or sorrow, he was destined to remain a bystander.

On the city wall, the man in white watched Feng Xuanyi rushing toward him in fury.

Even beneath the moonlight, the veins bulging at the emperor’s temples were clearly visible.

Yet the man merely smiled faintly.

Against the moonlight, his white robes looked heartbreakingly beautiful and resolute.

His handsome features were rimmed in pale silver light, adding a fragile sense of brokenness.

Just as Feng Xuanyi stepped forward—

the man stepped back.

One step forward.

One step back.

But the man already stood at the very edge of the wall.

One more step meant falling five zhang to the ground below—

a gulf separating life and death.

Seeing this, Feng Xuanyi stopped immediately.

Under the moonlight, his expression darkened unpredictably.

“Come back here.”

Footsteps echoed as the others arrived behind him.

Though his tone revealed no clear emotion, the authority in Feng Xuanyi’s voice was absolute.

“I command you to come back.”

Yet the man standing ten paces away paid him no heed.

He simply tilted his head back and gazed up at the cold moon in the sky, as if admiring the distant heavens.

But the dark eyes beneath his white robes were anything but calm.

They were filled with unwillingness.

With resentment.

And with a bitter, exhausted mockery.

His sharp gaze cut toward Feng Xuanyi like countless blades, as though wishing to carve him into a thousand pieces.

Seeing the man remain unmoved, Feng Xuanyi spoke again.

This time, anger was unmistakable.

“I order you to return immediately! This is an imperial decree!”

“An imperial decree?”

For the first time, the man spoke.

Then suddenly—

he burst into wild laughter.

Turning back, he fixed Feng Xuanyi with an intense stare, as though examining something curious one last time.

In that instant, his expression was distant and ethereal.

His beauty was enough to eclipse heaven and earth.

This was the man who, within just three years, had created countless miracles.

The man who had stirred storms throughout the imperial harem.

The man for whom the emperor had broken rules again and again, all just to win a single smile.

The man who had accompanied Feng Xuanyi through triumph and hardship—helping him achieve great achievements before finally ascending to the position of Empress.

With that single smile, the world seemed to lose its color.

“I, you say?”

His voice softened, then suddenly turned sharp.

“Feng Xuanyi… surely your imperial decrees weren’t limited to this one, were they?”

“Exterminating my entire clan…”

“Exiling my people to the frontier…”

“And for the sake of power… offering me up to another man…”

His gaze drifted back toward the cold moon in the sky.

Covering his lips with one hand, the graceful curve of his brows and eyes suddenly held an indescribable allure—seductive yet unforced, enchanting without vulgarity.

Like a banished immortal fallen to the mortal world.

His beauty stole the breath from anyone who saw it.

“Thank you… for Your Majesty’s boundless grace.”

As he spoke, his long black hair—once blending perfectly into the night—began turning white strand by strand beneath the moonlight.

The change happened so quickly it could be seen with the naked eye.

Feng Xuanyi shouted sharply:

“What are you doing?! Come back here at once!”

“My lord!”

Another man finally rushed up through the crowd, panting heavily.

He wore magnificent crimson brocade robes that accentuated his slender form and noble status.

Despite running so urgently, his clothing remained perfectly neat—perhaps the fabrics of the imperial palace were simply that fine.

“Please come back first,” he pleaded.

“If there’s anything to say, we can talk about it afterward. His Majesty will definitely listen to your explanation!”

The man in white seemed completely unsurprised by his arrival.

He glanced at him only briefly before looking away.

In the depths of his eyes lingered an emotion too complicated to dissolve.

“So… this is the path you chose?”

The nobleman trembled.

His expression flickered several times before sinking back into the shadows.

After a brief pause, urgency returned to his eyes.

“I know exactly what I’m doing… and what I want.”

“My lord, please come back. If this continues, none of us will be able to end it well…”

Hearing this, the man in white lifted a hand and gently touched the white strands beside his cheek.

As though murmuring to himself… or reminiscing about something long past.

The faint curve at his lips was filled with bitterness.

When he looked back at Feng Xuanyi, his gaze seemed unfocused—

as if he were looking through the emperor to a distant past…

or perhaps toward an unreachable future.

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