The morning after the Emperor's departure dawned with unnatural stillness. The imperial city, usually alive with the rustle of officials and the rustling of robes, felt suspended—tense, like an arrow drawn taut.
Lin Qiyue sat in the Cold Moon Courtyard, her fingers curled around a steaming porcelain cup. She stared into the tea's reflection, not drinking. Her mind wandered, building strategies, rehearsing lies, balancing the risk of truths. Every plan had a price, and she was ready to pay it all—except for her soul.
Shen Yan entered silently. "The Empress Dowager sent word. She wants you to visit the ancestral shrine."
Qiyue raised an eyebrow. "Now?"
"She says it's time you honor your mother's bloodline... and be seen doing so."
A subtle move—public enough to mark her as the true daughter of the late Empress but private enough not to attract open dissent. Lin Qiyue nodded.
"Prepare my ceremonial robes. The dark red ones."
"You'll wear mourning red?" Shen Yan asked.
"I'm not mourning," she said coolly. "I'm reminding."
---
The ancestral shrine was a grand pavilion of jade pillars and carved eaves, cloaked in incense smoke and silent reverence. Qiyue approached alone, dressed in crimson silk embroidered with phoenixes rising from flame. Her hair was pinned high with a single obsidian comb—her mother's.
As she knelt before the ancestral tablets, a cold wind swept through the open pavilion. She did not flinch.
"I have returned," she whispered, voice steady. "Your blood still burns in me. I will make them remember you. I will make them regret."
Behind her, hidden guards bowed their heads—not in ritual, but in fear.
---
Later that afternoon, a sealed summons arrived: a private inquiry from the Grand Chancellor.
Shen Yan scowled when he read the name. "Grand Chancellor Dou is no ally. He moves under the Crown Prince's shadow."
"That's precisely why I'll go," Qiyue said. "He suspects I have leverage. I want him to confirm that suspicion."
---
The Grand Chancellor's study was a dark, book-lined cavern. He poured wine for her himself, a gesture of mock courtesy.
"You're becoming quite the spectacle," he said. "First the Dowager, now the shrine. It's almost as though you want to provoke suspicion."
"Suspicion is the only currency the powerless have," Qiyue replied, accepting the cup without drinking.
He leaned forward. "You were clever to uncover Lady Yue's betrayal. But cleverness often outlives its usefulness."
She smiled, just enough to flash the edge of her teeth. "That's why I plan to remain indispensable."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's an offer."
She reached into her sleeve and drew out a list of names.
"Every person here received coin from General Fei's hidden coffers in the past year. Cross-check it. You'll find several have ties to the Border Rebels. You see, Chancellor, I'm not just useful. I'm your only bridge to saving your legacy."
His expression froze.
Qiyue stood. "You don't need to like me. But you will find it safer to stand behind me than beside General Fei when the knife finally falls."
---
That evening, as the sun dipped into the horizon, painting the palace in molten gold, Qiyue walked along the garden corridor where she once used to meet the Emperor. Those memories were ash, but the stone under her feet remained.
She found herself staring at a patch of orchids—her mother's favorite flower. They'd been uprooted long ago.
She would plant them again, she decided. When the time came. When the palace was hers.
She turned and saw Princess Anling watching her.
"I know who you are," Anling whispered. "You're no maid. You're her daughter."
Lin Qiyue did not deny it.
"Then why hide?" the princess asked.
Qiyue smiled. "Because a storm gathers more force when the sky is clear."
Anling stepped forward. "I want in."
Qiyue's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"My brother—the Crown Prince—plans to marry me off to a Northern barbarian chief to secure an alliance. I'd rather see him bleed than let him trade me like cattle."
Qiyue extended her hand. "Then let's make him bleed together."
---
The pact between Qiyue and Anling changed everything. With a royal ally inside the enemy's own bloodline, their intelligence network doubled overnight.
Over the next week, Qiyue uncovered a new horror: the Crown Prince was secretly funding the Silent Guild not only to eliminate rivals—but to provoke a war.
With Fei's army, he planned to stage a border attack, kill key ministers in the confusion, and ascend the throne as a wartime emperor.
It was treason wrapped in patriotism.
And it was close.
---
The chapter ends with Qiyue standing over a map of the empire, her fingers tracing battle routes, supply lines, and the location of the Emperor's convoy.
"Soon," she murmured. "They'll crown a monster if I don't move first."
She looked at Shen Yan.
"Send word to the Red Ink Society. Tell them I'll pay double. We strike before the solstice. Not with blood. With silence."
A coup was coming.
And Lin Qiyue would ensure it belonged to her.