Chapter 23: Blood in the Dust
The dagger cut the air just inches from my throat.
I dropped to the ground, rolled to the side, and hit the shelf with my shoulder. Scrolls rained down around me.
The blade struck wood. Splinters flew.
I scrambled backward across the floor, heart pounding, fingers scrabbling for anything I could use.
The attacker stepped out of the shadows.
Black robes. Masked. Silent.
Not an assassin from the palace guard. This one moved like a ghost — trained, fast, and meant to vanish before screams ever left a victim's lips.
I reached for a candleholder, swung it with both hands.
He caught it midair.
And then — footsteps. Fast. Coming from behind the shelves.
Another voice shouted, "Drop it!"
It was Xiao Yuren.
The masked figure turned, blade flashing again. Yuren didn't flinch. His foot snapped forward, kicking the assassin back.
The man stumbled.
Yuren drew a short blade from his sleeve. No ceremony. No pause.
They clashed.
Steel rang against steel. In the narrow rows of books and parchment, they moved like fire — fast, ruthless, no wasted motion.
I crawled to the corner and watched, breathing hard.
Yuren's blade sliced the attacker's shoulder. Blood hit the floor.
The masked man lunged again, but Yuren ducked under and slammed the hilt of his sword into the man's ribs.
He dropped.
Unconscious.
Maybe dead.
I wasn't sure which one I wanted.
Yuren turned to me.
"Are you injured?"
I shook my head.
He reached down, pulled me to my feet. His grip was warm. Too warm.
"You followed me," I said.
"I'm not here for you. I'm here for that book."
---
Minutes later, the assassin was gone. Dragged away by men Yuren called in silence, like this was routine.
We sat in the back of the archive, surrounded by dust and old secrets.
He placed the black book on the table between us.
"You knew it existed," I said.
"I knew it was moved before the fire. I didn't know you'd find it."
"Why did you follow me?"
"Because when someone writes the final key next to your name, they're not just talking about poetry."
I opened to the marked page again.
Zhao Lianhua. A list of dates. Events. Places I had visited during my first life. Some I had forgotten.
"Who wrote this?" I whispered.
"Jihao," he said.
"Why?"
"Because you weren't supposed to die."
I looked up. "You said that before."
"Because I've known it for a long time."
He paused.
Then added, "I knew him. Prince Jihao. Personally."
My breath caught. "You worked with him?"
He didn't answer directly.
Instead, he pointed to the next page.
There, in a different handwriting, were three names circled in red.
All nobles.
All still alive.
And above them: "Remove these and the throne is yours."
I stared at it.
"That sounds like treason."
Yuren looked me in the eye.
"No. That sounds like your future."
---
Later that evening, I sat alone in my chambers, staring out at the courtyard.
The wind stirred the lanterns. Soft. Restless.
Jiu'er entered quietly, set down a tray of tea.
"You're not sleeping again," she said.
"I'll sleep when I'm safe."
"That means never."
I didn't respond.
She lingered. Then asked, "Do you believe you're really the final key?"
I looked at her. Really looked.
She had always followed me. Believed in me. But this was the first time I saw doubt behind her loyalty.
"I don't know what it means yet," I said honestly. "But I plan to find out."
"Even if it kills you?"
"Especially if it doesn't."
---
At midnight, I returned to the archive alone.
The black book was gone.
In its place, a folded note.
Written in the same elegant hand as the one in my chambers weeks ago.
One sentence:
"Meet me where you watched your crown fall."
My hands clenched the paper.
The throne room.
Someone was waiting for me.
Someone who knew everything.
Chapter 24: The Throne Still Burns
The corridor stretched before me like a memory I had tried to forget.
Stone beneath my feet. Gold on the walls. Moonlight casting long shadows through latticed windows. The palace never truly slept, but tonight, it was holding its breath.
I passed through the side hall with my hood drawn low. No guards stopped me. No servants bowed. They knew better than to look at someone who walked with purpose after midnight.
The doors to the throne room loomed ahead.
I remembered them opening once before.
That night, I was led in like a lamb. Tonight, I came of my own will.
My hand touched the cold metal.
The door creaked open.
The vast chamber was empty. No court. No whispered rumors. Just moonlight pouring down like silver rain and the heavy silence of power unused.
And there — sitting on the lowest step of the imperial dais — was a man in grey.
He did not rise.
"You came," he said.
His voice was familiar but hard to place. Deep. Measured. Like someone who had spent too much time listening, not enough time being heard.
I stepped closer. "You left the note."
He shook his head. "No. But I asked it to be delivered."
"You knew I'd come."
"Only if you still remembered how you died."
My heart flickered. "And you? Do you remember how they let it happen?"
The man looked up at me.
I didn't know his face.
But his eyes were calm. No fear. Just the weight of truth.
"I remember everything," he said.
I watched him for a moment.
Then I looked up at the throne.
It still stood untouched. Golden. Unmoved. As if it hadn't watched me collapse beneath it in another life.
"What do you want from me?" I asked.
"Not obedience," he said. "Not even loyalty. Just clarity."
"Then speak clearly."
The man rose. Not tall. Not short. Just enough to fill the silence around him.
"You wore the prince's ring," he said. "Not as decoration. As a signal."
"Jihao," I said.
He nodded. "He marked you for protection. For more than that. He believed you were the only one who would not kneel when the time came."
"He was wrong. I did kneel."
"You died kneeling," he said. "But you woke up standing."
I said nothing.
He stepped aside.
Behind the throne, the wall shifted. A small stone panel slid inward, revealing a passage behind it. A tunnel hidden from the court, from the world.
My breath caught.
"Where does it lead?"
"To the part of this palace they buried along with their shame."
He waited.
No pressure. No push.
But I walked forward anyway.
My feet moved before my doubts could catch them.
The tunnel smelled of cold stone and old paper.
The man followed.
We walked for what felt like hours, though it was likely only minutes.
The passage opened into a small chamber, filled with relics and scrolls, maps and letters sealed in wax.
At its center was a desk. Upon it, a small black box.
And sitting beside it, cloaked, silent, was another figure.
This one stood as I entered.
He removed his hood.
And I forgot how to breathe.
Not because he was a stranger.
But because I had seen that face before.
Only once. Through fire. Just before everything ended.
The scar on his cheek.
The ring on his hand.
The eyes that watched like they already knew the ending.
He stepped forward.
His voice was quiet. Steady. Real.
"Welcome back, Zhao Lianhua," he said.
I tried to speak. Failed.
Because the man standing before me…
was Prince Jihao.
Alive.
Chapter 25: The Man Who Never Died
The silence in the room was so deep it pressed against my ears like a scream that had never been let out. I stood frozen, barely breathing. Prince Jihao stood before me, alive. The man who had died in the riots, the one whose charred remains were paraded through the capital, stood in the flesh, only a few feet away.
He hadn't changed much. His robes were dark and plain, nothing like the silks of the palace. His face was calm, unreadable, but a thin scar now crossed beneath his jaw. Something in him had hardened. Not just aged, sharpened.
"You're alive," I breathed.
"So are you," he said.
I took a step back. My legs felt weak, like I was trying to stand on smoke.
"They burned your body. They wept in the streets. I saw your ashes."
"They saw ashes," he corrected. "Just not mine."
My chest twisted. A hundred emotions surged, relief, confusion, anger. Mostly anger.
"You let me believe you were dead. You let everyone believe it."
"I had to."
"You let me suffer."
He didn't flinch. "You needed to break free."
My voice trembled. "You could have helped me. You could have warned me."
"And what would you have done? Fled? Tried to save me? Thrown yourself into the fire with me?"
I clenched my fists. "You don't get to decide how I break."
"I didn't decide. I watched. And now I see you're ready."
I turned my back on him. I didn't want him to see my eyes, not until I knew what to feel.
He gestured toward the long stone table in the center of the chamber. It was covered with maps, scrolls, wax-sealed letters. Candles flickered low beside them.
"This isn't a hiding place. It's where the empire ends."
I moved closer, eyes scanning the pages. Some of the scrolls were lists, names I recognized. Court officials. Ministers. Servants. Some crossed out. Some circled.
"You've been planning this... since before my wedding?"
He nodded once. "Since before the match was announced."
I swallowed hard. "You knew they would kill me."
"I knew they might. And I knew the Empress I once knew would never survive their games."
My gaze fell on a page with my name on it.
"You've been tracking me."
"Not just you. Everyone. Meiyan. The Grand Chancellor. Even Jiu'er."
I snapped my eyes to his. "Leave her out of this."
"She's loyal. But loyalty can be twisted."
"You don't get to question her."
He didn't argue. He only pointed to another scroll.
I opened it slowly. At the center was a diagram of the palace, but not the kind used for ceremonies. It marked patrol paths, secret passages, servant shift changes.
"You've been watching everything."
"That's how I stayed alive."
"And now?"
He leaned forward. "Now you return. You act as they expect you to. You obey. You smile. You kneel. And while they believe they've tamed you, you begin to dig."
"Dig what?"
"Graves."
I stared at him. This wasn't the boy who used to train in the gardens, quoting poetry between strikes. This was a man carved by loss.
He poured two cups of tea. His hands were steady. I didn't touch mine.
"The Emperor feared me. That fear didn't die with my name. It only made him bolder."
"And what about Meiyan?"
His jaw twitched. "Someone taught her. Not just etiquette or music. Taught her how to lie. How to kill quietly. Someone close to the Emperor."
"You mean she's a puppet."
"A venomous one."
I thought back to her face, smiling down at me as I knelt dying. Not pity. Not sorrow. Triumph.
"I want her gone."
"In time. You'll have to be patient."
"That's not my strength."
"It has to be. If you want to win."
I turned back to the table. My eyes locked on a red mark over the eastern gardens.
"Tomorrow," I said. "She's meeting the Empress Dowager there. Alone."
Jihao raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
"Because I used to be the one arranging it."
He smiled, faint and proud. "Then start with that. But do not kill her. Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because there's someone watching her."
"Who?"
"Someone who will reveal themselves if she's pressed."
I closed my eyes. So many games within games. So many masks. I wasn't sure who I hated more, the ones who betrayed me or the ones who thought they were protecting me by keeping me in the dark.
When I opened my eyes, Jihao had gone still. His expression shifted.
"What is it?"
He handed me another scroll. This one wasn't sealed. Inside was a letter, fresh ink.
I read it. My blood went cold.
It was a message from the Chancellor.
Not to the Emperor. To Meiyan.
He called her "my pupil."
I dropped the letter. My fingers were trembling again.
"He's behind her. All this time he was feeding her."
Jihao looked grim. "Now you see why I waited."
I nodded. Slowly. The pieces were moving. And I was no longer just a pawn.
I was the hand.
I stood from the table. The tea still steamed, untouched.
"I'll go back to court tomorrow."
Jihao nodded. "Smile. Bow. Watch."
"And when the moment comes?"
He met my eyes. "You won't miss it."
---
I stepped back into my chambers just before dawn. Jiu'er was waiting. She said nothing, only helped me change into sleeping robes. Her hands were gentle, her eyes worried.
I lay down but did not sleep. I stared at the ceiling until the first light touched the windows.
When it did, I rose.
The day had begun.
And so had the war.