Where Sun and Moon Never Rest - Chapter 1

A crack had opened in the Demon Gate during the previous dynasty. Ever since, a hundred ghosts swept through Jinling whenever the moon was full.

Human lives were worth less than grass.

Even the great clans could only grovel like dogs at the feet of demon hunters, begging for the right to breathe.

Mei Yanchun was the Mei clan’s sharpest blade.

He was also a ravishing ghost in human skin.

Violent and bloodthirsty, he had perhaps killed more people than demons.

Tonight was the Mid-Autumn banquet.

When Father heard that the Mei clan’s young master had come down from the mountain, he fawned over him, desperate to secure his protection.

The moon was full. Mei Yanchun reeked of foul demons beneath the heavy fragrance of spices.

He sat at the head of the table like a corpse, breathtakingly beautiful and cold, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Until I was hurried into my seat.

Those eyes, utterly without warmth, turned toward me.

And stayed there.

I met the turmoil in his gaze and lowered my head.

Below him, Father’s wine cup paused halfway to his lips.

His clouded eyes darted from Mei Yanchun’s face to mine and back.

He did not hesitate. He merely lowered his eyelids.

His broad sleeve swept across the table as his fingers formed a spell.

A pinch of colorless powder fell soundlessly into my tea.

One look was all it took for Father to offer me up like a fresh sacrifice.

Something to be savored.

I switched the cups in secret and delivered my drugged father to Mei Yanchun’s room.

A faint glimmer flashed across the dark red doorframe, then vanished into the night.

Through the door came Father’s heavy, clammy panting as the drug took hold.

I bowed my head and let out a low laugh.

The moon was full tonight.

A circle cut from silver foil, stitched onto black velvet.

I gathered my thin, plain nightclothes around me and walked to the end of the corridor.

I opened the door, turned, and stepped back into my cramped room.

With a practiced motion, I lit my firelighter and held it to the battered oil lamp on the desk.

A hiss.

The flame sprang up, then stretched unnaturally, twisting into a wash of deathly white light.

The osmanthus fragrance lingering from the banquet was sucked out of the air.

Cool pine needles and the smell of blood enveloped me.

I raised my eyes.

Young Master Mei, who should have been enjoying a tumble with my father in the west wing, was lounging on my narrow bed.

“Young Master Mei?” My lashes fluttered.

I took half a step back, feigning alarm, and looked at him with tearful eyes.

“Li Lan? No. It’s—”

He gave a cold laugh.

“Li. Yi. Lan.”

Mei Yanchun pronounced each syllable distinctly.

“I should have seen it long ago.”

“We’ve known each other for seven years. We’ve hunted demons and quelled disturbances together. Yet you only ever appeared around the full moon. You slept with your hair bound under your cap and refused to undress even when you were hurt.”

Mei Yanchun rose.

He approached, one step at a time, and stopped in front of me.

His gaze slid over my slender waist, then my thin neck, like a snake flicking its tongue.

His cold nose nearly brushed my earlobe.

“So Young Master Li is actually the third daughter of the Li clan of Jinling.”

I kept my lashes quietly lowered.