One night. Wang Yun ordered his musicians and dancers to perform for his entertainment, yet he found no joy in their songs. He drank alone, his heart heavy with sorrow. The recent events weighed on him—Dong Zhuo's iron grip on the court, his cruel and wanton rule. Anger and hatred festered within Wang Yun, until at last, he overturned his wine cup and staggered toward the rear garden.
The night was serene, the moon round and bright, casting silver light upon the grounds. The scent of blossoms lingered in the air, and shadows of flowers swayed gently under the soft breeze. There was a quiet, almost mystical stillness to the garden. As Wang Yun wandered, lost in his thoughts, his eyes fell upon a solitary figure kneeling before an incense altar among the peonies. The girl's delicate face was lifted toward the heavens, lost in prayer, as if untouched by the turmoil of the mortal world.
Wang Yun took a closer look—it was Diao Chan. She whispered softly to herself, her sighs tinged with sorrow. Seeing this, a suspicion crept into his heart. He feared that Diao Chan, young and beautiful, resented being bound to an aging man like himself. Perhaps she longed for a handsome youth and was pouring out her yearning under the moonlight.
A surge of jealous overtook him. With hurried steps, he strode toward her and barked, "Wretched girl! What secret longing brings you to sigh beneath the moon at this late hour?"
Startled, Diao Chan immediately fell to her knees before him, her eyes brimming with tears. "My lord," she pleaded, "my heart is as pure and unwavering as the moon's glow. I saw your furrowed brows today and knew you must be troubled by the state of the nation. I knelt here only to pray to the Moon Goddess, wishing for peace in the realm and for my lord's health and longevity."
Her voice was soft yet earnest, carrying a tinge of innocence and sorrow.
Wang Yun's anger melted away. His stern gaze softened as he reached out, gently stroking her hair. "Such devotion and wisdom at your young age—it is truly rare," he murmured, sighing deeply. Then, he looked at her with warmth in his eyes. "Come, rise. Follow me to the Hall of Moonlight. There is something I must discuss with you."
Inside the secluded hall, Wang Yun dismissed all servants, leaving the room bathed in silence. A deep emotion flickered in his gaze as he cupped Diao Chan's delicate face in his hands, admiring her porcelain-like beauty. Her gentle demeanor, her radiant grace—his heart swelled with an emotion he had not anticipated.
In that moment, an idea struck him. Overcome with both admiration and resolve, he suddenly dropped to his knees before her and bowed deeply, his forehead touching the cold floor.