"Alright, Meilina! Just try to straighten your legs and—"
THUD.
I hit the ground hard, pain shooting up my legs.
"It's alright! It's still progress! As long as you keep doing it—"
"It's not progress," I snapped, frustration cutting through my voice. "I should have been able to walk by now."
It had been over a month since that incident. The first two weeks, I could barely move, just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling while time dragged on.
Shuyin had visited often, bringing me fruits and news from the palace. Lianyu sent letters every single day, always ending them with "You better heal soon, or I'll drag you out of bed myself."
And Yichen... he was still sad. I could see it in his letters too, even when he tried to hide it behind jokes.
"Don't push yourself too hard," Bao Qin said softly, helping me sit up again. "You're doing great, especially after all those injuries... I still get nightmares thinking about them."
I clenched my fists, forcing my trembling legs to cooperate. Using every bit of strength I had left, I pushed myself upright—only to stumble and collapse after two steps.
The doctor had been dismissed days ago. Bao Qin had insisted on taking full charge of my recovery, and Renshu agreed without hesitation. Anything to keep the secret safe—that I was a woman.
Still, I couldn't deny she was an excellent caretaker. She spent nearly every hour of the day helping me regain strength. At night, she always made sure I stayed in bed before she left for her own quarters.
Speaking of which...
"Why don't you live here?" I asked one evening as she helped me stretch. "The palace has plenty of empty rooms. Wouldn't it be easier if you stayed?"
She laughed. "Because I want Renshu to have his own space. He needs his independence. Besides, if I lived here, I'd probably end up doing all his work for him."
Her tone was light, but she grew serious a moment later. "And honestly, anyone else staying here could draw unwanted attention. The fewer people who come and go, the safer he—and you—will be. You remember what happened a month ago don't you?"
Her words carried weight. It wasn't just concern—it was experience. Like a mother trying to protect her son. Considering how Renshu's real mother had treated him, having Bao Qin was truly a blessing.
"It might be personal," I began hesitantly, "but where are Renshu's parents? Are they alright—"
"They're dead." Her voice was steady but cold. "Poisoned by one of his father's concubines. She was jealous of the affection his father showed Renshu's mother, so she poisoned them both."
No wonder he never spoke about them. To lose family that way… even if they weren't good people, it was still a wound that never fully healed.
"What happened to the concubine?" I asked quietly.
"She was punished. Beheaded shortly after."
I sat there for a while, thinking about how cruel court life could be. To live as a concubine of a powerful man—one wrong step and it could be the end.
"Don't worry," Bao Qin said, noticing my silence. "They were bad people. If they were alive, Renshu would never have found peace."
I nodded, though part of me still felt uneasy. Then I pushed myself to stand again. Every movement burned, but it was better than lying useless in bed.
Weeks had passed, and most of my bruises had faded. My ribs still ached when I breathed deeply, and my legs often trembled from weakness, but I could walk short distances now, with help.
By the time evening arrived, Bao Qin had left to her quarters, and I was alone again. The quiet was almost too heavy. I picked up my pen and wrote another letter to Lianyu, letting her know about my progress. I'd send it tomorrow.
"Good evening, Meilina. How's the recovery?"
Renshu entered the palace just as I walked down the stairs on my crutches, his calm expression instantly brightening the dim room.
"I managed to walk two steps before collapsing," I admitted, trying to sound unimpressed.
He laughed. "That's still progress. At this rate, you'll be running in no time."
It was almost like sarcasm.
"Anyway," he continued, sitting down beside me, "you must be getting bored, being stuck in here all day."
"Of course I am. But why?"
"Do you remember four months ago, when I mentioned the northern troops?"
My stomach tightened. "Yes. What about them?"
He sighed. "They're Mongol troops. Our informants say they've been moving closer to our borders. Slowly—but steadily. It's not official yet, but… I fear war might be approaching."
The room grew heavy with silence.
"Mongols," I repeated. "They're not the kind to negotiate, are they?"
"No. Politics won't work with them. They don't care for treaties or alliances. They only want one thing—land. And they'll stop at nothing to take it."
His voice carried a grim finality.
"So, what are you planning to do?" I asked.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you." His tone shifted, serious now, analytical. "They're advancing slowly, conserving their energy until they reach populated towns. That gives us one advantage: time."
"You said politics won't help. So what are you suggesting?"
He leaned forward slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "War strategies. We need battle plans, tactics—ways to fight them without losing too many men. The Mongols have advanced weaponry, but our soldiers are more valuable. Every man we lose is a loss we can't afford."
I stared at him, half amused, half incredulous. "You think I'm good at war planning?"
"I do," he replied without hesitation. "You haven't shown much yet, but I know you have knowledge others don't—knowledge from… your background."
I frowned. "My background?"
"You'll understand soon enough." He stood up, brushing off his robes. "We have one month to prepare our tactics. Take your time. Think it through."
I blinked. "Wait—what exactly do you expect from me?"
He turned at the doorway, that familiar confident smile on his face.
"Oh, you'll figure it out. I have no doubt about that."
And with a wink, he disappeared into his room, leaving me with a racing mind and a heart that refused to settle.
I looked down at my trembling legs—still weak, still aching—and thought about what he'd said. War. Strategy. My background.
What exactly did he know about me that I didn't?