Yuren had exactly three regrets in life:
1. Picking a fight with a sect elder's goat.
2. Stealing from the kitchen monk and getting caught mid-snack.
3. Following Zhaoyan into a forbidden library at midnight.
"I just want to make it clear," Yuren whispered, tiptoeing behind him, "that if we get caught, I was here against my will."
Zhaoyan ignored him and lit a lantern. The flickering light revealed shelves stacked with scrolls bound in black silk. Everything smelled like dust, mold, and something faintly... metallic.
"This place has 'haunted' written all over it," Yuren muttered. "I bet even the ghosts don't like it here."
Zhaoyan knelt down beside a loose floorboard and pried it open. Beneath, wrapped in crimson cloth, was a single scroll. He paused before touching it, like he wasn't sure if it would bite.
"What's that?"
"The original Moon Pact."
Yuren tilted his head. "The one written in blood and secrets?"
"Yes."
"Oh good," he deadpanned. "Nothing horrifying at all."
Zhaoyan's fingers hovered above the scroll, but he hesitated. "This… this belonged to my ancestor. He sealed it when he made the pact. It should've been burned after the massacre."
Yuren knelt beside him, eyes locked on Zhaoyan. "You're shaking."
"I'm not."
"You're always so stoic. But right now? You're scared."
Zhaoyan finally touched the scroll. The moment his skin made contact, a whisper tore through the room—ancient and trembling. The lantern flickered violently, casting shadows across the walls like grasping hands.
Yuren stiffened. "...Did it just moan?"
Zhaoyan carefully unrolled the scroll. On the faded parchment were words written in blood. Yuren leaned in and squinted.
"Wait—does that say… 'One marked by gold, one cloaked in lies… will unseal the moon or die'?"
Zhaoyan's brows knit together. "That's not part of the original pact."
"Prophecy," Yuren muttered. "Ominous, rhyming, and vague. Classic cursed scroll behavior."
Suddenly, the scroll hissed—and a surge of air blew out the lantern. The room plunged into darkness.
Yuren yelped and lunged forward—accidentally crashing right into Zhaoyan. "I can't see—why are you so bony—are those your abs—?!"
"Get off me."
"I'M TRYING—WAIT I'M STUCK."
Zhaoyan hissed through clenched teeth, "Your belt is hooked to my sleeve."
They both struggled in the dark, cursing softly under their breath, tangled like two cats fighting in a blanket.
After several chaotic seconds, light returned—Zhaoyan had reignited the lantern with a flick of spiritual energy.
They froze.
Yuren was practically in Zhaoyan's lap, his hand planted firmly on the other's chest.
A beat of silence.
"...So," Yuren said slowly. "We're married now."
Zhaoyan shoved him off.
---
Back in their room, Zhaoyan rolled out the scroll again and stared at the new inscription. "This part was never here before."
Yuren sat cross-legged across from him. "You think someone added it?"
"No. It feels... awakened."
Yuren leaned closer, resting his chin on his hands. "So. One marked by gold and one cloaked in lies. Sounds poetic. But also like a horrible riddle."
Zhaoyan frowned. "Marked by gold… maybe a birthmark. Or a sigil."
"And cloaked in lies… that could be me. I lie all the time."
Zhaoyan stared at him.
"What?"
"Nothing. That makes perfect sense, actually."
"Rude."
---
Far beyond the sect, inside an abandoned temple swallowed by fog, someone else stared at a scroll. This one was torn and blood-stained—connected to the very same Moon Pact.
The figure whispered, "The gold mark has awakened. The liar is near. Soon... it begins."
---
To be continued…