Li Mei blinked rapidly in the unfamiliar darkness, a strange disorientation clouding her mind. The silk sheets felt alien against her skin, and the heavy embroidered quilt trapped a suffocating warmth around her. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes.
Her mind was a jumble of fragmented memories: the sharp glint of a dagger, the acrid taste of poison, the triumphant sneers of women she once considered rivals. Then, a sudden, blinding light, and the sensation of being dragged through an endless, churning void.
She pushed herself up, her limbs stiff and uncooperative. The room was opulent, shadowed by heavy drapes. The scent of sandalwood and lotus blossoms hung in the air, a scent she knew intimately from a life that couldn't possibly be hers anymore.
Then, it hit her. The intricate gold phoenix embroidered on the canopy above, the pearl-inlaid dressing table, the ornate screen depicting a blooming plum tree... these were the furnishings of the bridal chamber in the Eastern Palace. Her bridal chamber.
A choked, disbelieving gasp escaped her lips. She rushed to the polished copper mirror. Staring back was the face of Li Mei, porcelain skin, almond-shaped eyes, a delicate mole beneath her left eye. The same face she'd possessed in her previous life. But this was before.
Before she had fallen for Crown Prince Lin, before his favor had become both a blessing and a curse. Before the whispers had turned to threats, the veiled smiles to open hostility. Before the other concubines, driven by jealousy and ambition, had orchestrated her slow, agonizing demise.
She remembered the endless battles for his attention, the petty sabotage, the carefully laid traps. She remembered how she, naive and blinded by love, had walked straight into them, believing his protection was enough. It wasn't. His favor, however deep, couldn't shield her from the venomous envy of those who saw her as an obstacle. They had killed her. Slowly. Painfully.
And now... she was here. On her wedding night. The night she was first brought into the Eastern Palace as Prince Lin's second wife, fresh-faced and hopeful. This was the beginning. Or rather, it was a second chance at the beginning.
The Daughters of the Li family were legendary. For three generations, it was said, they had married exceptionally well, always receiving profound favor from their husbands and, remarkably, always securing the position of principal wife. Whispers claimed they were not merely born into fortune but meticulously trained to be perfect consorts—to manage a household with grace, to support their husbands with wisdom, and to maintain an unshakeable inner calm amidst any storm.
There was also a deeper secret, known only within the ancient walls of the Li estate. When a daughter came of age, a secret ritual, passed down for three generations, was performed. Its purpose and nature were fiercely guarded, but Li Mei knew it was believed to be the source of their family's uncanny ability to navigate the treacherous currents of high society and win their husbands' unwavering devotion.
Li Mei was no exception to this lineage. The youngest and most cherished daughter of General Li, she possessed a beauty so striking it was rumored to make flowers blush. Growing up, shielded by her doting father and the protective cocoon of the Li family's reputation, she had been thoroughly spoiled, incredibly naive, and woefully ignorant of the depths of evil some people could harbor.
And now, here she was, in the very chamber that marked the start of her disastrous first life.
A Fateful Glimpse and My Father's Plan
Li Mei learned so much about her own life after she was brought into the Eastern Palace. It was from him—her husband, Crown Prince Lin—that she heard how he had anticipated her arrival, how he'd been waiting for her for five long years. He told her he would never forget the day he first saw her. It was a simple day, and he and his friends were debating who was the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom when her carriage pulled up. She remembered that day; her sisters and she were on a rare outing, and the world seemed so big and so new. He told her that he was shocked to see four young ladies emerge from a single carriage. It was only when her father, General Li, appeared that they realized they were the famed daughters of the Li family.
He later confessed that he thought she was the prettiest of the four. Li Mei must have seemed so timid; she held close to one of her older sisters, her gaze wide with shy curiosity. He asked his friends if they knew her, but they all admitted it was their first time seeing her. He mused that she was "the last daughter of the Li family," and "probably the most sheltered and pampered one, as she's her father's favorite." They quickly bought some candy from a nearby vendor, then hurried back into their carriage and disappeared as swiftly as they had arrived, leaving behind an impression that, to this day, has never quite faded from Prince Lin's mind.
Weeks and days went by, and every time the prince passed by their residence, he would think of her, wishing the Li walls were not so high. He confessed that every time he thought of her, he would wonder why she hadn't left his mind. Until one day, curious to see her again, he devised a plan to gain entry to the Li residence. He claimed he needed her father's mentorship on army policies, given his long and distinguished service. Her father, flattered, readily agreed.
On the day the prince came to their house, he wore his finest clothing, unconsciously wanting to look his best. When he arrived, he nervously looked for her, but there were no glimpses of her. Her father welcomed him and guided him into his study. They talked about policies for about two hours. The prince told her that even though he was bored out of his mind, he endured, hoping his torture would be worth it. Three hours in, there was still no sign of her. Casually, he asked, "Where are the General's children? I haven't seen anyone for the last three hours?" Her father told him that his children and the women in the family were not allowed to come to the study unless instructed by him. The prince then asked to go and greet them, stating it would be impolite to leave without saying hello. They went to the main house, and her mother and the wives of her brothers were there. He asked, "Is everyone from your family here?" to which he received the answer that her six siblings and she had left for the countryside some time ago. He said a sharp, slight pain of disappointment pricked him. He asked, "Do they live in the countryside fully?" curious. And her father told him, "No, they had been sent there for something important, but will be back once it is finished."
What her father didn't tell the prince was the true reason for their absence. They had all left for the countryside because, as each of them, including her, had started their menstrual cycles, they had to undertake the secret Li family ritual for daughters. This ancient and private rite was performed as a vital preparation for their marriages, beginning with the eldest.
Her father, General Li, was a man who saw every decision as a move in a grand chess match. Li Mei always knew he approached the betrothals of his daughters with the same precision he used on the battlefield. Each marriage was not just an alliance but a shield, designed to protect their family and solidify their power.
She remembered her eldest sister, Li Wan, was the first to be betrothed. Knowing her gentle nature would not thrive in a home of conflict, Father carefully arranged her marriage to Chen Wei, the son of the powerful General Chen. While the alliance would bind their two military families, she knew Father was also securing a home for her where she would be safe and honored.
The next to wed was her second sister, Li Jin. Her love of knowledge and quiet grace were well-known throughout the capital. When she chose a top scholar, Gao Min, her father did not object. This marriage would tie their family not to a military force but to the court's intellectual heart, securing their favor and respect among the nation's most learned men. It was a strategic move that diversified their family's influence beyond the barracks.
Finally, her third sister, Li Lan, was to be married. It was a tense and crucial time, with the Kingdom of Huangtu at a fragile peace with the rival Xialan Kingdom. After a long and complicated negotiation, Father presented a bold proposal. He offered her sister's hand to Prince Wang Cheng of Xialan, a marriage that would serve as a living, breathing symbol of the peace treaty. Though his heart ached at sending his daughter to a foreign land, he believed this was the ultimate sacrifice to ensure the safety and prosperity of their people.
His plans for all three of her sisters were now complete, each one a testament to his wisdom and his love. He had prepared the ground for a brilliant future, a world where they were safe and their family's influence was unmatched. All that was left was for her, his last and most cherished daughter, to take her rightful place.
Her father's meticulously crafted plans for his daughters came to a halt when it was her turn to marry. As his youngest and most cherished daughter, he refused to use her as a political pawn. He'd seen the cold, distant relationship between the Crown Prince and his first wife, Lady Anya, and he feared she'd suffer a similar, lonely fate. Instead of approaching the royal family, Father decided to find a suitor himself—a man who would cherish her as she deserved.
News of their family's search spread like wildfire through the capital and eventually reached the Crown Prince. She would learn later that a cold dread—a feeling he couldn't explain—seized him. He told her his mind, clouded by some unspoken trauma, screamed at him: "Do not let this woman go. She is the one you must protect." He said he immediately rushed to the King, his father, demanding he send a marriage proposal at once.
"Why, Father, why hasn't General Li discussed this with you first?" he pleaded, his voice thick with uncharacteristic desperation. "Why are they looking for other suitors?"
The King, seeing the same fatal attraction, chose to test his son. "How many times have you turned away his daughters? He probably thinks you're not worthy of this one."
"No, Father," the Prince insisted. "I was waiting for the last daughter."
The King feigned ignorance, asking him why he'd waited so long. The Prince, without a logical reason, could only confess to an unshakeable feeling. "I saw her once, five years ago. I don't know why, but she's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She smiled, and it felt like... I don't know, like I'd seen it before. It left such an impression that I swore to myself I would wait for her." He told her he hadn't fallen in love that day; he'd simply recognized his soulmate, and the thought of her had been a beacon in the darkness of his heart ever since.
Li Mei's heart ached when she heard of the King's reaction. He felt he couldn't stop his son's heart, but he could choose how this story would end. He would arrange the marriage, but only because he was confident he could manipulate the game in his favor this time.
The Prince felt a sudden, cold dread when his father promised to speak with hers on his behalf. Though the words were reassuring, his keen intuition sensed a deep reluctance in the King's eyes, a shadow of an unspoken memory. The King's gaze was not one of a man securing a marriage for his son, but one who was trying to protect him from it. Unable to trust his fate to a man who, he felt, was trying to separate them, the Prince knew he had to take matters into his own hands.
Driven by a desperation that defied all royal protocol, the Prince left the palace and rushed to her father's residence. He found her father in his study and, without a single moment of hesitation, fell to his knees.
"General, I beg you," he pleaded, his voice thick with raw emotion. "Please, don't give your daughter to anyone else. I cannot... I cannot live without her."
Her father, a man who had faced armies without flinching, was taken aback by the Prince's unfiltered honesty. He had decided to protect her from the lonely fate of a royal consort, yet here was the Prince himself, forgoing all dignity to ask for her hand.
"Your Highness," her father said, his voice firm, "you have turned away my other daughters. Why this one? Why this sudden urgency?"
"General, I don't know why," the Prince confessed, looking up with tears in his eyes. "I saw her once, five years ago, and something in me knew she was the one. My mind may not remember, but my heart has never forgotten. She feels like... coming home." He reached out a trembling hand. "I am here because I cannot trust my fate to anyone else. I would go to war to keep her safe."
Her father, seeing past the title and rank to the man who was truly in love, finally agreed. He rose, pulling the Prince to his feet. "Rise, Your Highness. My daughter is yours."
The Poison of Jealousy
Li Mei took a slow, deliberate breath, the silk of her bridal gown a stark contrast to the flood of memories that now consumed her mind. In her past life, her rise was swift, fueled by the Crown Prince's all-consuming devotion. He had spoiled her, fulfilling her every whim. He exempted her from early morning greetings to the Queen Mother and showered her with gifts and grand celebrations. When she innocently wished for more time with him, he took an unprecedented week's leave from court. Her indulgence knew no bounds, and in her ignorance, she hadn't seen the fire of hatred she was stoking in the hearts of the other consorts.
Her very existence became a direct insult to the other wives. Their jealousy festered into a cruel hatred that would eventually lead them to plot her downfall. She remembered the failure of their schemes and the final, cruel betrayal by her own childhood friend, who had drugged her. She woke up in the Cold Palace with a lowly guard next to her, framed for a crime she was too drugged to comprehend. Humiliation seared through her as she was dragged before the Crown Prince, a humiliating scene orchestrated by the wives themselves. She couldn't bear to look at him, but she felt his raw pain and heard it in the tremor of his voice when he asked, "Li Mei, tell me, is this true?" And in her drugged haze, she uttered the soft, defeated, "Yes, it is true."
She had accepted death to end his anguish, but she was wrong. The Crown Prince, consumed by his own agony, could not bring himself to order her execution. Instead, he banished her to the Cold Palace. Later that day, he came to her, desperate for answers. But her spirit was shattered, so she chose to lie. "I did it because I no longer loved you," she had whispered, "and I desired something new." He asked if it was because he was away, a question that held a hint of understanding. He had experienced the unique nature of a Li daughter, a secret their family's sacred vow had created. Li Mei didn't comprehend that her lie had not only sealed her own fate but had condemned her sisters as well.
The tragic events that followed were a cruel consequence of her broken vow. She heard that her eldest sister, Li Wan, was accused of witchcraft by her husband's family and killed with poison, a brutal act she knew was a result of the broken vow. Then came the chilling news of her third sister, Li Lan, who had died during child labor. Her sister's miscarriages were a clear sign of poison, a cruel fate orchestrated by those who opposed the peace treaty between the two kingdoms. She remembered her second sister, Li Jin, and her husband, who was accused of treason. Though her sister had a chance to escape, she chose to be executed with her husband and his family. A true Li daughter, bound by the unspoken code of her lineage, lives and dies with their husband's family. Her sister's sacrifice was a final, devastating testament to the unyielding vow that now plagued their entire generation.
But the calamities had not ended there. The ministers at court, seeing the Crown Prince's mercy towards her as a weakness, branded him "weak" and "unfit to inherit the throne." They succeeded in usurping the throne, giving it to the King's brother. The very consorts who had orchestrated her downfall, far from facing justice, laid the blame for the Crown Prince's demise solely at her feet. In a final act of vengeful fury, they invaded her palace in the Cold Palace, brutally beating and killing her. Upon hearing of her violent end, the devastated Prince, his world shattered, executed the three consorts and then, shortly after, took his own life.
A shiver ran down Li Mei's spine, not from cold, but from a terrifying realization mixed with a fierce, burning resolve. The man who would soon enter this room, the man she had loved so desperately, was still out there. And the women who had tormented her, who had ultimately ended her life, were still waiting, ready to play their deadly games.
But this time, it would be different. The pain of her past life, the betrayal, the agonizing death – it would not be in vain. She wouldn't be the naive flower crushed underfoot. She would be the gardener, carefully tending to her own path, and perhaps, uprooting the weeds before they could choke her.
A soft click of the door echoed through the room. Prince Lin. He was here. Her heart pounded, a chaotic drumbeat of fear and a newfound, chilling determination. The game had begun again, but this time, she knew the rules. And she would rewrite them.
The grand doors of the bridal chamber swung open, and Prince Lin stood silhouetted in the flickering light of the hallway. In her past life, his appearance would have filled her with a giddy mix of adoration and shy anticipation. Now, it brought a stark, cold clarity. He was the catalyst, the center of the web that had ensnared and destroyed her, her sisters, and his own family.
She saw the familiar outline of his strong jaw and the way his shoulders filled his ceremonial robes. Every detail was etched into her memory, but it was a memory now tainted with the profound weight of their intertwined tragedies. Her heart still ached, a phantom pain for the love she once felt, but it was quickly overshadowed by the crushing realization that his boundless devotion had been the very thing that led to her downfall.
No. Not this time.
Her mind raced, sorting through the brutal lessons of her former existence. His all-consuming favoritism had been a spotlight, drawing all the venomous gazes upon her. It had isolated her, made her complacent, and ultimately, vulnerable. And, most critically, it was his inability to sever their bond, even after her supposed betrayal, that had led to the ruin of his entire family and the tragic deaths of her sisters. The Li family vow was broken not just by her "unfaithfulness," but by his perceived abandonment when he sent her to the Cold Palace.
To change her fate, she needed to delay his love for her. For now, he absolutely must not favor her. The very foundation of the Li family's curse was the immediate favor gained after consummation, a favor that had spiraled into disaster. Tonight, on their wedding night, she absolutely could not allow it.
She took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down the surge of fear and the ghosts of her past. She had to act. She couldn't allow the script of their tragic love story to repeat.
Li Mei was still seated on the edge of the bed, a figure of serene stillness, waiting for him. Her bridal veil lay discarded on a nearby table. When he stepped fully into the room, he moved with the anticipation of a groom finally meeting his bride. He approached the bed, his hand reaching for her face. Her heart was pounding too, but it was a chaotic drumbeat of fear and newfound, chilling determination. She lifted her head and their eyes met. His breath hitched; he could tell she was utterly convinced that, out of all the women he had ever seen, her face stirred the most profound reaction within him. It was as if her eyes pierced his soul.
Li Mei, on the other hand, had already decided. She would not consummate their marriage tonight. Surely, that would anger him. It would make him think she was full of herself, perhaps even disrespectful, and this defiance would surely prevent him from falling in love with her so quickly.
"Your Royal Highness," she murmured, her voice steady and devoid of the soft tremble that had once captivated him. "I do not think I am ready to perform my marital duties today."
A flicker of surprise, almost imperceptible, crossed his features, quickly followed by a thoughtful expression. In his mind, a quiet understanding settled. "It is quite alright," he told her, his voice gentle and devoid of the anger she had anticipated. "I will not force you to do anything you are not ready for."
The night stretched before them, a canvas on which she intended to paint a very different future. She had to ensure he saw her not as the object of his immediate, overwhelming desire, but as a respectable, perhaps even a little distant, consort. One he wouldn't obsess over. One who wouldn't become the focal point of the harem's jealousy.
He took a step back, the surprise on his face replaced by a thoughtful expression. He had expected an eagerly waiting bride, a woman who would revel in the power her position would bring. Instead, he was met with a serene defiance he didn't understand, yet something in him felt a profound sense of rightness.
He wasn't in a rush. She knew he had learned all about her before their marriage, including that she was deeply cherished by her family. Her older siblings protected her fiercely and would gladly take punishment for her. From a young age, her family saw her as the "chosen one," a precious gem they were all divinely led to protect.
He looked at her now with profound admiration, and an unbidden thought must have echoed in his mind: In her past life, she was probably an Empress.
She didn't know why, but being in this room, with him, ached with the pain of an old wound she couldn't remember. But it was a different kind of pain—a dull ache that was beginning to fade. His presence was like a soothing balm, and for the first time in her life, she felt a peace she couldn't explain. She felt less trauma and less pain with him. Something in her felt home.