In every lifetime, I would choose to remain in the dark so that they can walk in the light

Spoiler Warning: This review contains spoilers for the first book, The Scorpion and the Night Blossom (review here). I would recommend reading that book first for a better understanding of the history of the characters’ relationships featured in this book.

At the end of my review for The Scorpion and the Night Blossom, I said I couldn’t wait to discover what Zhao had in store for us with book two… and The Dragon and the Sun Lotus did not disappoint! The first key thing I picked up on which excited me was the fact that this time around, we were going to be treated to a multiple perspective narrative. I loved Àn’yīn, our sole protagonist in the first book, but I was very much looking forward to seeing whose side of the story we’d be experiencing this time and very pleased to discover it was everyone’s favourite half mó sardonic brooder Yù’chén!

But I’m getting ahead of myself now.

The story opens with Àn’yīn and Hào’yáng back in the mortal realm, only two days after arriving back at Àn’yīn’s village – so the story continues immediately from the events of the first book. This is where my only gripe of this book comes in, as Àn’yīn reflects over the story so far. I’m not a fan of this kind of catch-up exposition within the narrative; I appreciate being reminded of what happened in the story so far, but I personally feel it always works best as an epigraph or something at the start of the book. It was especially jarring here as the narrative is first person and continues without a jump in time, so it felt really unnatural for Àn’yīn to be reminding herself of what had just happened to herself, and so broke the fourth wall somewhat in that it was so obviously a construct instead of part of the story.

Ok, now I’ve got that off my chest, let’s get back to what I loved about this sequel. The high-drama action kicks in straight away as Àn’yīn and Hào’yáng perform a ritual to discover if the land is prepared to accept Hào’yáng as the new emperor and, whilst he is vulnerable, the pair are attacked by a desperate mó driven to hunger. Immediately, we are shown that Àn’yīn and Hào’yáng have a seemingly insurmountable challenge still ahead of them as they must find a way to unlock Àn’yīn’s immortal powers inherited from her birth mother, claim Hào’yáng’s birthright, and win their realm back from the Kingdom of the Night.

Speak of, I was thrilled that we actually get to spend quite a lot of time in said realm during this book. The cover, beautiful as it is, is actually quite misleading in that regard, with its bright sunny colours; a large portion of the story actually takes place in the Kingdom of the Night, which Zhao beautifully evokes in shades of purples, black, and crimson, all awash in the light of the moon. Most mó’s powers seem to manifest through particular flowers – the scorpion lily for Yù’chén, oleanders for his mother; so the Kingdom of the Night is portrayed as a sumptuous  garden at night time, and not at all what you might otherwise imagine a realm of bloody-drinking demons to be like. This juxtaposition of darkness and violence, with the beauty and wonder of the magic, was a heady combination that I thoroughly loved.

Zhao really ramps up the emotional tension for this second book as, like I predicted, Àn’yīn finds herself in a love triangle. It’s not my favourite romance trope, I have to confess. On a personal level, I’m just never entirely convinced by it, as my own experience of love is all consuming so I struggle to believe you can have room to regard another person if you truly feel love for someone. But in Zhao’s defense, she piles plenty of turmoil on poor Àn’yīn and I found myself trying to ascertain what she truly felt for each man, and how notions of duty and guilt might effect her affections. Then of course there’s downright lust, and there’s plenty of that here. And yearning. Honestly, this book has one of the most heartbreaking sex scenes that I absolutely was not ready for. More sure than ever that Àn’yīn does not even remotely deserve Yù’chén. I cried a lot in this book. It’s definitely one of the better love triangle tropes I’ve seen handled, as I could at least understand Àn’yīn being caught between Yù’chén and Hào’yáng, as they both represent such very different relationships and evoke very different kinds of love.

I burned through this duology, having been entirely caught up in Zhao’s emotional tale of a realm that needs saving, told through the very personal battles of the people fighting for it. Once more, Zhao’s love for the stories and mythology of her heritage shine through and truly make this story what it is; a rich and emotional story brimming with magic that you will utterly lose yourself in. An accomplished conclusion to a breathtaking tale of love and sacrifice.

The Dragon and the Sun Lotus is available now from HarperVoyager – you can order your copy on Bookshop.org