The princess stirred awake, her eyelashes trembling as if weighed down by lead. A dim golden light seeped through the curtains, wrapping her in its warmth. It had been days since she had last opened her eyes, yet the world still felt distant and unfamiliar. Her body was weak, as though every bone resisted movement.
"Princess, you are awake!" the maid exclaimed in relief, rushing forward from her place at the bedside.
"Mmmh," Tie Hongchen murmured faintly, her voice hoarse as she pushed herself upright. She glanced around, eyes sharp even in her weakness. "What happened? Where are we?"
Memories surfaced in fragments—an ambush, steel clashing in the night, the sting of poisoned blades, and then darkness swallowing her whole. She had thought that perhaps she would never awaken again.
"Your Highness, we are in the palace of the thirteenth prince, Qin Tai Jian," the maid said with a gentle smile. "You were rescued by His Highness himself. He carried you here and personally tended to you."
Tie Hongchen frowned slightly, still struggling to grasp the situation. "And my guards? My attendants?"
"After leaving the Heaven Battling State, you were not permitted to bring anyone. The escorting guards returned to the capital once you entered Qin territory."
The princess lowered her gaze, her heart sinking. She had walked straight into a cage without realizing it.
"And him? Where is Tai Jian?" she asked at last.
"His Highness has been kneeling in the ancestral grounds since three days ago. He has not risen once," the maid replied while carefully helping the princess dress.
Tie Hongchen froze. "How long… have I been unconscious?"
"For five days now."
"So long," she whispered to herself. Her heart grew heavy. Even after giving everything, even after struggling against fate, I cannot escape being reduced to a political pawn.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palm. A bitter smile ghosted her lips. And Tai Jian… what is he plotting? He has drawn me into his schemes again and again, yet I cannot see the shape of his true intention. Each step feels calculated, each moment part of a larger plan. Whoever moves behind him is a master at chess.
---
The ancestral grounds were steeped in an eerie cold, the kind that gnawed at the bones rather than the skin. Surrounded by the royal mausoleum, the place carried the weight of centuries, as though countless eyes of the departed emperors stared at the living intruder kneeling in silence.
Tai Jian knelt alone, draped in simple white robes. His posture was unwavering, but his aura betrayed weariness. Though he masked it well, the truth remained—his martial cultivation was gone. He had sacrificed it willingly, a truth few could ever fathom.
"You have finally decided to show yourself," he said suddenly, his eyes closed as though in meditation.
A disembodied voice echoed through the cold ground, sharp yet mocking. "You have done much to lure me here, thirteenth prince. How could I not come? You have indeed exceeded my master's expectations."
"You are not the one I was waiting for," Tai Jian replied coolly, not stirring.
"Oh? And how do you know that?" the voice chuckled.
"If you were the true one, you would not have chosen this place to appear. You are nothing more than another pawn." His words carried quiet disdain.
A low laugh rippled through the grounds. "As expected of Qin's war god. Master foresaw this. He asked me to deliver a single message—tread carefully."
Tai Jian's expression did not waver. "Tell your master this: my heart, as my sword, both lie with Qin." His voice was firm, each word like a blade cutting through the mist.
The voice paused, then answered, "I will deliver it. But remember, I am only the first messenger. The second will not be so courteous."
"I will be waiting," Tai Jian said, finally opening his eyes. His gaze pierced the shadows, locking onto a corner where the presence had lingered. "Whether your master dares to come himself or sends more pawns, I will be here."
The silence returned, but the air carried the weight of unseen eyes. So even after all this, the one in the shadows refuses to step forward, Tai Jian thought grimly. Then let us see how long he can hide.
---
Hours passed. The ancestral grounds grew darker as the sun dipped. The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Tai Jian, still kneeling, spoke before the figure even arrived.
"You are awake."
Tie Hongchen halted, startled. "You knew I would come?"
"No. I heard your footsteps." His voice was calm, almost indifferent.
The princess's heart wavered. She studied him for a moment before asking the question gnawing at her. "What are you planning, Tai Jian?"
He finally opened his eyes. "The same as you."
"I don't understand."
"Don't play dumb with me." His gaze sharpened, then he gestured. "Come closer."
Tie Hongchen hesitated but eventually obeyed. The moment she neared, Tai Jian reached out and pulled her into an embrace. She stiffened, her hand instinctively reaching for her dagger, but his whisper stilled her.
"Calm down. Look around you. Shadows are everywhere."
Her eyes flicked across the ancestral grounds. At first, she saw nothing. But as her breathing slowed, she caught it—the faint shimmer of hidden presences, assassins cloaked in darkness. Slowly, she relaxed, leaning into his hold for appearances' sake.
"What are you up to?" she murmured.
"Nothing. I merely share the same purpose as you," he said quietly.
"Hmph. After scheming against me, do you think I can trust you?" she snapped softly.
"Believe me or not, I care little," Tai Jian replied coldly. "But you cannot fight them alone. You need me—and I need you."
Her breath caught. "You know about them?"
"Of course," he said with a faint smile. "Had I not acted, their plan would already be complete. By destroying it, I forced them into the open. That was why the messenger came."
Tie Hongchen's eyes widened. For the first time, she glimpsed the depth of his foresight.
"Then convince me," she said, her voice firmer now.
Tai Jian fell silent, lost in thought. When he finally spoke, his words were steady, filled with conviction. "The enemies we face are terrifying. If we join hands, we might carve a ten percent chance at victory. Alone, we have none. But I swear this—within five years, I will stand equal to them. With or without martial arts."
Tie Hongchen's face hardened. "You crippled yourself. How dare you speak with such pride?"
"Crippling myself was part of the plan," Tai Jian said, his tone almost casual. "My foundation is unshakable. At our level, only shattered bones could truly cripple us. Besides…" He reached into his sleeve, fingers brushing the hilt of a weapon. "Our blades are no ordinary weapons. They are the companions that will carry us even when strength fails."
His quiet smile unnerved her. For a brief moment, she saw not a crippled prince, but a strategist whose eyes pierced the heavens.
"I may agree to your alliance," she said at last, "but don't mistake this for affection. We are not husband and wife. I feel nothing for you."
Tai Jian did not answer. Even within himself, he could not untangle his feelings. He knew she was beautiful, formidable, a flame that lit the darkness—but love? He dared not name it.
"Let's go," he said finally, rising to his feet with surprising steadiness.
She supported him despite herself, and together they left the ancestral ground.
On the way, Tie Hongchen asked, "With such intelligence, why not fight for the throne? You would surely succeed."
Tai Jian halted mid-step, the faintest shadow crossing his expression. "The throne? It is nothing but a chain. I seek freedom, not shackles. Let the others scramble for it."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You know as well as I do, even if you remain neutral, the princes will always see you as a rival."
He sighed, gaze softening with conflict. His heart was too entangled with family, with the brothers he still cared for. To him, the throne was not worth their blood.
Tie Hongchen watched him quietly, her expression unreadable. At last, she tightened her grip on his arm and sighed. "Very well. Then I will walk this road with you."
Together, they returned to the palace, two figures bound by necessity, stepping into a storm neither could yet see the end of.
---