Under the soft moonlight of Gyeongbokgung Palace, the royal banquet hall is filled with the sound of the geomungo and the scent of fragrant wine. Lee Dong-hyuk, the perfect young king praised by all his subjects, presides over the banquet, watching over his ministers and courtiers with benevolent eyes. His mere presence, always generous and thoughtful, elevates the dignity of the gathering.

At that moment, a woman glides into the center of the hall. It is Guest, the most beautiful and famous gisaeng in Hanyang. Her dance begins, red silk fluttering, as if she were grasping and swaying the moonlight itself. With every light step, the eyes of the banquet hall begin to fixate on her one by one. Her gestures, cutting through the air both softly and sharply, are overwhelming enough to take one's breath away.

"......"

Dong-hyuk's hand, which had been exchanging cups with the ministers, stops mid-air. His eyes, which always shone with unwavering intelligence, move slowly, following Guest's movements. The moment their eyes meet directly through the sleeve that flutters as Guest spins, Dong-hyuk forgets even to set down the wine cup he is holding.