Blood painted the marble floor in dark, glistening pools. Li Xiu knelt in chains at the center of the imperial throne room, her breaths shallow and ragged.
Pain throbbed through her body from the countless wounds that cut to the bone. She felt the warmth of her own blood seeping through her torn sleeves and realized, with a grim finality, that this was how it would end. The Emperor—no, the man who claimed that title by her family's might—sat upon the gilded throne, watching impassively as her life ebbed away. His eyes, once so tender when they looked upon her, were now cold as the winter river.
"Why?" Li Xiu's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. Her question hung in the air, frail and despairing, yet it echoed in the vast hall. She lifted her gaze to meet Crown Prince Jian's eyes—eyes that she had trusted and loved for so many years. Prince Jian rose slowly from the throne, the crimson robes of an emperor cascading around his tall frame. He stepped down from the dais with measured steps, each footfall clicking against the silence.
He stopped just before her, close enough that the edge of his robe brushed against the blood on the floor. "Why?" he repeated, almost thoughtfully. A faint smile curved his lips—smug and cruel. "Li Xiu, did you really think someone like you could stand by my side forever?" His words were soft, yet they slammed into her like hammer blows.
Li Xiu's heart wrenched. She had faced enemy armies without flinching, negotiated peace between feuding clans, and endured years of cultivation training to strengthen her inner core. All of it—for him. She had believed in them. Her mind flashed back to a memory: Prince Jian gently tucking a jasmine flower into her hair under the summer moonlight, promising her the world. That memory now felt like a mockery.
"I gave you everything," she rasped, tears of fury and hurt welling in her eyes. "My family's loyalty, my cultivation... my love. I fought your battles and defended your throne. And you—" Her voice broke as a tear escaped, tracing a path down her blood-streaked cheek.
Prince Jian chuckled, the sound echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "And I thank you for your service," he replied, voice dripping with condescension. "But you've become a liability. Your usefulness is at an end." He leaned down, fingers lifting her chin. His touch was unbearably familiar, yet devoid of all warmth. "You should have known, my dear, that in the game of power, love is just a bargaining chip."
Li Xiu felt a hot coal of hatred ignite in her chest. She wanted to scream, to lunge at him despite her shackles and make him feel even a fraction of her pain. But the chains held her down, and her body was failing. Above Prince Jian's shoulder, she glimpsed a slender silhouette lurking behind a marble pillar: Lady Wei, her own trusted handmaid—no, former handmaid—watching with an inscrutable smile. Betrayal upon betrayal. It was Lady Wei who had whispered poisonous lies in Prince Jian's ear, who had orchestrated tonight's massacre. Li Xiu had treated that woman like a sister.
A jagged cough tore from Li Xiu's throat, splattering blood onto Prince Jian's embroidered boots. His expression twisted in disgust as he stepped back. "How pathetic," he murmured. He raised a hand, and from the shadows stepped forth a royal guard with a drawn sword. The blade's steel gleamed in the torchlight as it pressed against the back of Li Xiu's neck.
Li Xiu closed her eyes. The weight of defeat settled over her, heavier than the chains binding her limbs. In her mind, faces flashed—her father's proud smile, her brother's mischievous grin, the loyal guards and servants of her household—all of them gone because she had trusted the wrong man. Prince Jian had seen to that; her family's honor stripped, her father executed on false charges, her ancestral home set ablaze. I was too blind, too blind to see the monster behind the mask, she thought bitterly.
Hot tears mingled with the blood on her face. Regret was a knife twisting in her heart. If she had another chance... if only she could do it all over again, she would never walk this doomed path. She would protect those she loved, and she would never give her heart to this cold-blooded snake.
The executioner's blade pressed harder. Li Xiu sucked in a final, shuddering breath. In that breath lived a thousand unsaid vows. She opened her eyes once more, fixing Prince Jian with a stare that burned brighter than the torches. "In my next life," she whispered, voice trembling with wrath and sorrow, "I will never forgive you. I will make you pay for every drop of blood—"
The sword flashed. A searing pain and then... nothing.
Li Xiu jolted upright with a strangled gasp, hands clawing at her neck. She patted frantically at her throat, her chest, her arms—there were no wounds. Her skin was smooth, unmarred by the torture she had just endured. No chains, no blood, only the soft silk of a familiar quilt twisted in her fists.
Her heart thundered in her ears as she stared wildly around. She was not in a dank dungeon or a grand throne room, but in a spacious bedroom draped in moonlight. Pale silver rays filtered through ornate lattice windows, illuminating elegant furniture she hadn't seen in years. The air smelled of night-blooming lotus and... home. This was the Prime Minister's estate—her father's house. How was this possible?
Li Xiu swung her legs off the bed and stood on shaky feet. Her knees nearly buckled, not from injury, but from shock. She crossed to a polished bronze mirror that stood beside a writing desk. In its surface, a young woman's face gazed back at her—a face she hadn't seen this full of life for nearly a decade. She touched her cheek with trembling fingers. Gone were the gaunt, haunted eyes and hardened features earned from years of war and betrayal. Instead, she saw the softer, rounder face of her youth, her skin healthy and glowing. She could hardly breathe as she examined herself.
A faded memory surfaced: this was exactly how she looked at seventeen—the year she had first been presented at court as her father's heir, the year her engagement to Crown Prince Jian was announced. Li Xiu's pulse pounded with disbelief. Had it all been a nightmare? Or... have I truly been reborn?
She reached to her left shoulder, sliding aside the sleeve of her nightdress. There should have been a small scar there—a scar from an arrow wound she received while saving Prince Jian on the battlefield. Her fingertips found only smooth skin. A shaky laugh escaped her lips, turning into a sob halfway. It was true. The betrayal, her death—it had all happened. But now she was here, years earlier, with her whole life ahead of her again.
Li Xiu sank to the floor, pressing her forehead against the cool wood. Tears of relief and rage spilled freely. The heavens had granted her the very thing she'd begged for in her final moments: a second chance. Thank you, she thought, whether to fate or whatever deity had heard her plea. Thank you for this chance to right all the wrongs.
Her tears gradually ceased, replaced by a steely calm. Kneeling there in the quiet of the night, Li Xiu made a silent vow. She would not waste this miracle. Prince Jian, Lady Wei, every traitor who tore her world apart—they had no idea that the prey they once slaughtered had come back as a huntress. This time, she would be the one standing over them.
A light knock suddenly sounded at the door, startling her from her thoughts. "Young miss?" came a tentative voice from the hallway. It was Mei, her childhood maid, sounding worried. "I heard a cry. Are you unwell?"
Li Xiu hastily wiped her face and stood, taking a steadying breath. Mei—dear Mei—was alive, not brutally slain by imperial guards as she had been in that dark future. The thought filled Li Xiu with a surge of protectiveness and renewed resolve. She crossed to the door and opened it a crack. There stood Mei, holding a lantern, her youthful face creased with concern.
"I'm alright," Li Xiu managed, forcing a small smile. Her voice felt unused and raw. "It was just a bad dream."
Mei looked relieved, though she peered closely at Li Xiu's face. "As long as you're safe, miss. The hour is still early... Would you like some tea to calm your nerves?"
Li Xiu almost nodded out of habit, but paused as a memory slid into place. Early... the hour was early. What date was it? A sense of urgency bloomed in her chest. If she truly was back at age seventeen, there were events in motion, pivotal moments she could now change or exploit.
"Mei, what day is it today?" Li Xiu asked quietly.
The maid blinked at the odd question. "It's the seventh day of the ninth lunar month, miss."
The seventh of the ninth... Li Xiu's breath caught. On this day in her previous life, her father would host a grand banquet for her upcoming engagement. It was the day Crown Prince Jian was first welcomed formally into their home—the day he gave her that jasmine flower under the moonlight and cemented his gentle lie. The beginning of her doomed love.
Li Xiu's blood ran cold for an instant, and then boiled with determination. Not this time. She would not be the naive girl who fell for sweet words and false promises. Not anymore.
From downstairs, the faint sound of doors opening carried up the hall, followed by the low murmur of voices. Mei glanced over her shoulder. "Oh! The guests must be arriving soon, miss. Your father said the Crown Prince himself would be coming early today... something about a private meeting." Mei gave Li Xiu an excited grin, unaware of the turmoil behind her young mistress's eyes. "Isn't it wonderful? His Highness is so eager to see you."
Li Xiu's hands clenched hidden in the folds of her skirt. Wonderful... Yes, how wonderful that the viper was slithering right into her home so willingly. Her heart hammered not with girlish excitement as it had once long ago, but with tightly coiled anger. She schooled her face into calmness and managed to return Mei's smile with a convincing one of her own.
"Help me dress, Mei," Li Xiu said, stepping back into her room with a newfound poise. "If His Highness is arriving, I should greet him properly."
As Mei hurried off to fetch the gown and accessories prepared for the occasion, Li Xiu moved to the window. She pushed open the lattice just enough to let the cool morning air wash over her face. In the courtyard below, lanterns were being lit and servants bustled about in preparation for the day's feast. And just beyond the gates, an elegant carriage bearing the imperial crest rolled to a stop. Even from a distance, Li Xiu recognized the handsome figure stepping out, clad in princely white and gold.
Crown Prince Jian had arrived, bearing the same charming smile that had once made her heart flutter. Li Xiu's lip curled in a silent snarl before she forced it neutral. She gently closed the window and drew the curtains.
"The game begins anew," she whispered to herself, so softly that only the night breeze heard. Her eyes burned with resolve. This time, I will be the one holding the reins.
Outside her door, Mei's footsteps approached with the rustle of silk. Li Xiu straightened her spine, wiping the last trace of tears from her face. When she turned, she wore the perfectly calm expression of the seventeen-year-old noble lady she used to be—masking the vengeful soul that now lived within.
"Young Miss," Mei called gently from just beyond the door, "shall I come in now?"
Li Xiu allowed herself one last tight smile—half anticipation, half fury—before schooling her features. "Yes, come in," she answered, voice steady.
As the door opened and Mei bustled in, Li Xiu exhaled slowly. She had a role to play and an enemy to deceive. A new chapter of her life had begun, and she intended to win this time—no matter the cost.