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.