The ship sliced through the final stretch of water, the familiar silhouette of the capital's docks rising from the morning haze. The air, once clean and sharp with sea salt, now carried the thick, complex scent of a million lives—spices, sewage, dust, and the cloying perfume of flowering trees from the imperial gardens. It was the smell of the cage.
Lusi stood rigid at the railing, the joyful image of her daughter meeting her grandfathers now a faded dream, replaced by the cold reality of the stone in her stomach. It had not left her; it had grown, a leaden weight that made every breath an effort. Feng stood beside her, a hand on the small of her back, a gesture meant to be steadying, but it felt like he was guiding her to the gallows.
"Look," Feng said, his voice tight with a forced brightness. "There, by the docks."
Her eyes, weary from a sleepless night of dread, scanned the crowd. And then, she saw him.
Zhao Ye. Her father. He stood apart from the imperial welcoming party, his military posture unbent by the years, his face etched with lines of worry and hope. The moment his eyes found hers, his stern expression shattered into one of pure, unvarnished joy.
The stone in Lusi's stomach cracked. A wave of visceral, childhood relief washed over her. Her father. Her anchor. A genuine, radiant smile broke across her face, the first true one since the shadow had fallen upon her. For a glorious, fleeting moment, the glided cage faded, and she was just a daughter coming home.
From a shaded pavilion overlooking the dock, the scene unfolded like a carefully staged play.
Crown Prince Sheng stood, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Beside him, Crown Princess Ziqi watched the reunion with a gentle smile.
"Perhaps we should go back," Ziqi suggested softly. "They will come to the palace eventually. Let's give them this moment."
Sheng did not answer. He did not even hear her. His entire being was focused on the ship.
He saw his brother, Feng, descend the gangplank. Then, Feng turned, stretching out his hand. And then she appeared.
Lusi. The years had not merely sustained her beauty; they had refined it, polished it to a devastating brilliance. The girl he remembered was gone, replaced by a woman whose grace was as natural as the sea she sailed on. She took Feng's hand, and as she stepped onto the dock, Sheng's breath caught in his throat. His eyes, sharp and hungry, dropped to her midsection, where the subtle, tell-tale curve was unmistakable beneath her robes.
Pregnant. She was carrying his child.
A memory, sharp as a shard of glass, stabbed through his mind.
Flashback: Years Ago at the time when lusi was just 14 years old - The Zhao Family Gardens
He had cornered her by the lotus pond. She was just fourteen, a sparrow of a girl with eyes too big for her face, clutching a scroll on botany.
"Lusi," the young Prince Sheng said, his voice brimming with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. "You know my feelings. When you come of age, I will speak to your father. You will be my Crown Princess."
The girl, Lusi, didn't simper or blush. She looked at him with a startling directness. "Your Highness is too kind. But I have not even reached a marital age. My studies are not complete."
"I can wait," he insisted, stepping closer.
She took a deliberate step back, her gaze unwavering. "It is not about waiting. A Crown Princess does not travel. She does not explore. She is a jewel kept in the innermost chamber of the palace." She gestured with her scroll to the world beyond the garden wall. "I do not wish to be a jewel in a cage, Your Highness. I want to see the world."
Her rejection was not coy; it was a statement of fact, a declaration of her own destiny. And in that moment, her lack of interest in the power he offered felt like the deepest insult.
The memory faded, leaving a familiar, bitter acid in his mouth. See the world. And she had. With his brother. The brother who had renounced the very throne Sheng now held. The brother who had given her the freedom she had chosen over him.
He watched as Feng, in a shocking breach of all protocol, openly hugged Zhao Ye. He watched as the mighty Military Minister's eyes fell upon the little girl hiding behind Lusi's legs. He saw the man's formidable composure completely break as he bent down, his face a canvas of awe and love, to greet his granddaughter.
It was a picture of a happiness so complete, so domestic, it was a physical blow to Sheng.
"Your Highness?" Ziqi's voice was a little more insistent. "Should we go?"
Sheng finally tore his eyes away, his face a cold, impassive mask, with a fake smile to ziqi . "Sure," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Let's go."
He turned his back on the joyful reunion, walking away without a second glance. But the image was seared into his mind: Lusi's bright, happy face, the swell of her pregnancy, the little girl, the proud husband. It was not a homecoming. It was a conquest. And he was the one who had been left vanquished on the shore. The gilded cage awaited them all, but for Sheng, the bars were now made of his own bitter obsession.
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