The great bronze bell tolled thrice, deep and resonant, its sound rolling across the capital like thunder. White silk banners fluttered in the humid summer breeze, where once crimson streamers had declared celebration. Inside, sandalwood smoke curled thick and heavy, choking the air with sorrow.
Lian Hua knelt beside her father's still body.
Grand Chancellor Li Fengyuan lay upon the dais, his lips stained black, blood froth crusting at the corners of his mouth. His face, once stern yet kind, had collapsed into a gray mask. Her small hands, pale as porcelain, were blotched red where she had tried to wipe the blood away.
"Father… Father, please," she whispered, her voice cracking. At sixteen, she was still soft, still unspoiled, eyes wide with innocence. Tears welled thick, blurring the lanternlight.
Beside her, her little brother, lian Wei, clung to her sleeve, shaking, his cries breaking into hoarse gasps.
But the man on the dais did not stir.
The steady steps of boots echoed on polished floors. A figure approached, robes white as mourning silk, expression untouched by grief.
Her uncle.
Li Hongzhao.
His face was sharp, his eyes like a hawk's, calculating and cruel. He looked upon his brother's corpse not with sorrow, but satisfaction, as though this death had been expected. No, orchestrated.
"The Phoenix has fallen," he murmured. His gaze slid to the children. His mouth curved in a smile that carried no warmth. "And the nest belongs to me."
Lian Hua's heart lurched. She pressed her brother close, voice trembling. "Uncle, please… help him. Father was poisoned, someone... "
Her words broke when a cold hand seized her chin, forcing her face upward.
"It was I who spilled his blood," Li Hongzhao said softly, as though sharing a lover's secret. His grip was iron, bruising her delicate skin. "Your father hid you like trinkets, raised you as weak playthings. But weakness has no place here. From this moment, you are mine to shape."
Her blood chilled.
He released her and gestured. Servants entered, bearing two small porcelain vials. The liquid within was thick and black, glinting like ink under the lanternlight.
"Drink."
Lian Hua recoiled. "No... "
Guards seized her arms, pried her lips apart. Bitter liquid scalded her tongue, sliding down her throat like molten iron. Fire burned through her chest, her lungs constricted, her body convulsed. She gasped, choking, nails scraping the polished floor.
Beside her, her brother shrieked as the same venom poured into him. His thin body shook violently, his face contorted in agony.
Through her blurred sight, she saw her uncle lift a third vial, its contents clear as jade dew.
"This toxin gnaws at the veins, blackens the lungs," he said, voice calm, almost pleasant. "Without antidote, you will cough blood within days. Each week, I will grant you a vial, if you obey. Fail, and your brother dies first. Remember that."
She collapsed against her brother, both of them trembling and gasping for air.
Li Hongzhao's shadow stretched long against the mourning silk as he continued:
"From this day, you will be honed into blades of silk and blood. You will learn to bow, to dance, to smile until men crave you. You will wield beauty as weapon, innocence as mask, desire as chain. And when you part your lips or open your thighs, it will be for power, not love. That is your worth."
Her tears spilled freely, falling onto her brother's hair. She whispered apologies he could not hear through his pain.
• • •
One Year Later
The seasons turned.
Lian Hua's back bent beneath bamboo rods until she could balance porcelain cups on her wrists without a tremor. Her knees bruised on lacquered floors as she practiced bowing until her spine felt carved of iron.
By day, her body was sculpted into grace. She learned to pour tea with trembling lashes, to hide knives in her sleeves, to kneel until her muscles screamed yet her smile never faltered.
By night, her mind was drilled in the secrets of men.
"How do they lie?" her instructor hissed.
"The twitch of the brow, the shift of the gaze," Lian Hua answered softly, her voice low, obedient.
Her hands bled from hidden blades. Her lips were painted until they shone red as ripe fruit. Her eyes, once soft with innocence, could glimmer wide with doll-like naivety, or narrow with sharp wit that slipped through her mask when least expected.
Each week, her uncle's servants placed a single vial of antidote in her trembling hands. She would cradle it like a lifeline, feed her brother first, then herself.
When she failed, he withheld it. Her brother's coughing screamed louder than whips.
When she obeyed, she lived another seven days.
• • •
The girl in the mirror no longer knew the one who had wept over her father's corpse.
Her body had bloomed, soft and full, draped in silks that clung to curves like shadows of temptation. Her skin remained pale as moonlight, unmarred save for faint scars hidden beneath fabric. Her voice was low, sweet, deceptively submissive.
But her eyes... her eyes were a storm.
On the eve of her seventeenth year, Li Hongzhao stood before her, vial gleaming between his fingers.
"You are ready," he declared, serpent smile curving his lips. "From this night forth, you will serve me in truth.
The empire's generals, princes, and ministers will hunger for you. Their secrets will flow from their lips into your arms. And with every sigh you feign, your brother will live another day."
He placed the vial in her hand.
Lian Hua bowed, her silks whispering across the floor. Her voice, smooth as wine, answered:
"Yes, Uncle."
Her lips curved.
Her eyes did not.
The lanterns guttered, shadows licking up the walls. She lifted the vial to her lips, swallowing the bitter draught. In the dim light, she looked like a bride drinking nuptial wine, except her marriage was not to a husband, but to death, to deception, to the endless cage of desire.
The Lotus had been poisoned.
And now, it would bloom.
• • •
The House of Blossoms glowed like an ember against the night sky. Lanterns swayed in the late summer breeze, their red light spilling down onto polished steps and perfumed courtyards. Inside, the air was heavy with incense and zithers, silk-clad courtesans gliding between lacquered tables where nobles and generals drank away the empire's unrest.
At the heart of the hall stood her.
Lian Hua.
Her robe shimmered pale as moonlight, embroidered with lotus petals that rippled when she moved. Her eyes wide and innocent, like porcelain dolls lifted only in fleeting glances before dropping again, lashes heavy with feigned shyness. The soft fall of her black hair brushed against her thin exposed waist as she twirled, very thin almost, see - through lace covering her curvy bottom and huge breasts, and the men who watched leaned forward as if a breath from her might undo them.
She lowered herself into a bow at the end of her dance, the silk pooling around her knees. Applause thundered, laughter filled with greed and wine.
But her heart beat steady, unshaken.
Tonight's target… the General.
The Private Chamber
The attendants slid open a screen, revealing a room bathed in amber lanternlight. Silk curtains swayed around a low table laden with wine and jade cups. A bronze incense burner curled smoke into the air, carrying the bite of sandalwood.
The General xu jianyu , was already seated. His frame was broad, his armor replaced with plain black robes that could not hide the scars etched into his hands. His gaze was sharp, suspicious, an eagle's stare that measured every breath she took.
Lian Hua entered silently, her steps as fluid as water. She lowered herself to her knees before him, bowing until her hair swept the floor.
"General," she said, her voice low and soft, as though her throat itself was spun silk. "This unworthy girl has been asked to serve you tonight."
His eyes narrowed. "i do not need your service." he said. He had noticed her some days ago. He had caught her off guard once, a mischievous, calculating gaze in her eyes unlike the innocent ethereal expression she has now.
Her lips curved into a faint, trembling smile. "Do you find me displeasing, my lord?" She tilted her head, the loose fold of her robe slipping down her shoulder to reveal the curve of pale skin.
His gaze flicked there, then back to her eyes, unmoved. "I find you… dangerous."
Her heart skipped, but her face remained a portrait of innocent confusion.She had to seduce him quick before he noticed anything. She poured him wine, bending a little, showing her pearl like cleavage, hands steady though she forced them to tremble slightly as she lifted the jade cup to his lips.
"Dangerous? I am but a flower, my lord," she whispered, eyes glistening. "A flower has no fangs. It only waits for a strong hand to pluck it."
He took the cup from her, his fingers brushing hers. The contact was brief, yet heavy with intent. He drank, watching her over the rim.
She leaned closer, her robe shifting so the silk clung to her ample bosom. Her breath brushed his ear as she spoke, the faintest hint of sweetness in her tone.
"I have heard of your victories, General Xu. Men sing of your name. But even a warrior must grow weary of blood and steel. Would you allow me to ease that burden, if only for tonight?"
Her lips brushed the edge of his jaw as she set the cup down. She felt his hand tense at his side, the scarred knuckles clenching. He was resisting, testing her resolve.
She slipped into his lap as though by accident, a gasp leaving her lips as if she had stumbled. Her palms pressed against his chest, feeling the solid wall of muscle beneath the black silk.
"Forgive me, I... "
His hand caught her wrist. For a breath, his grip was iron. Their eyes locked... his hard as steel, hers shimmering like water.
"Do you think me a fool, woman?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Your beauty is a weapon sharper than blades. Tell me... who sent you?" She definitely worked for someone. Though just an instinct, his instinct are always right.
Her lips parted in a small tremor, her wide eyes shimmering with moisture. "No one, my lord. Only loneliness sent me." Her trembling voice broke, a perfect note of fragility. "If I am a weapon… then it is only because men wield me. Allow me, just this once, to be a woman instead." she softly place her red lips on his.
Xu jianyu deepened the kiss, rough and consuming. His hands dragged her closer until there was no space left between them. Her lips parted under his, pliant, sweet, as though she was melting into his strength.
His calloused palm slid over the curve of her waist, pressing firmly until silk strained and loosened. With a soft gasp, her robe slipped down, baring the swell of her bosom to the lanternlight. The air was cool on her skin, but his body was fire, searing against her softness.
"General…" she whispered, her breath breaking. Her voice trembled with practiced fragility, her eyes glassy as if she were about to cry.
His lips crushed against the hollow of her throat, teeth grazing, marking her pale flesh. Her fingers clutched at his robe, knuckles white, though her mind was cold and clear, noting every shift of his armor, every fold where secrets might hide.
The scent of sandalwood thickened as he pulled her against him, lifting her effortlessly and steady into his lap. She let out a startled cry, deliberately innocent, before pressing her forehead against his.
"Please… be gentle," she whispered, a plea soaked in trembling need.
His breath rasped harshly, but his hands did not relent. His touch was not gentle, not tender, it was claiming, scarred fingers gripping as if to brand her as his. Her robe slid further, baring pale shoulders, the thin silk pooling in her lap.
He sat up for a moment taking in her long white legs, her huge breasts fully exposed. She could feel his body warmth as he kissed her, exploring every corner of mouth.
He pulled away, Her body warmed up, as he gave her a glance, before leaning down to slowly nibble on one of her aroused bean, while his callous filled hand fondled the other.
Her pearl white body turned Scarlett, as he widens her legs positioning himself between her. "General... Please... ahnng"
Her back arched as her beautiful oasis was violated, his beast entering her forcefully. She stifled a cry, her lips parting, chest rising in ragged gasps.
Rubbing her petal lips every time he pulls back. Her head is fuzzy as he roughly thrusts in and out of her, his beast even growing larger.
"General Xu... Ahh"
he grabbed onto her full soft white bottom, ramming ruthlessly into her. As she wept clinging onto him looking frail and helpless letting out loud arousal inducing moans and whimpers. As she reached climax, he joined her as well.
But even as she trembled against him, her hand slipped deftly, fingertips brushing against the scroll hidden at his side. Her body shivered, but her mind traced every line of the ink, burning the troop formations into memory.
The General left in silence, the faint scent of her clinging to his robes.
As the door closed, Lian Hua's body sagged. Her trembling hands clutched her robe around her, silk sticking to sweat-damp skin. She staggered to her feet, breath uneven, each step heavy as lead.
The poison within her veins stirred, coiling like a viper. Her chest seized; she coughed, pain tearing through her ribs as if knives were lodged inside. The lanternlight blurred. She bit her lip until blood filled her mouth, forcing herself to move.
A heavy cloak lay folded by the screen, discarded, unnoticed. She dragged it over her shoulders, its weight swallowing her fragile frame as she stumbled into the dark corridors of the House of Blossoms.
She moved like a shadow through the back alleys until she reached the hidden courtyard where no lantern burned. There, in the corner beneath a crooked roof, a small figure lay curled, coughing.
Her heart lurched.
"Brother! Wei Wei!"
She fell to her knees, silk and dust mixing beneath her. Her little brother, no more than eight, lay trembling, lips stained dark with blood. His wide eyes looked at her with desperate trust, even as his breaths rattled like broken reeds. His life slowly draining from him.
"No, no, hold on... don't you dare... " Her hands shook as she lifted him, pressing her forehead to his fevered skin. Tears blurred her sight. "Sister will save you. Just breathe, please… please."
But behind her, a shadow shifted.
Her uncle's shadow messenger.
Silent. Unblinking. A man of plain black robes, his face hidden under a hood. He stood with arms folded as if the boy's suffering were beneath notice.
Lian Hua's body shook with rage. "Give it to me," she begged, voice breaking. "Please, he's dying... "
The messenger said nothing. Till she finished drawing the memorized map. Only when she thrust the scroll into his hands, her body still shivering from the General's rough embrace, did he slowly unfurl it. His eyes scanned the troop formations, the inked map information she had stolen.
A long silence.
Finally, he slipped a vial from his sleeve, small, cruelly small. He held it between two fingers.
"This one," he said at last, his voice flat, unfeeling. "The master says you've done well." He tilted the vial so the black liquid glimmered in the moonlight. "It will last a week."
Her breath caught. A week. Just one.
She snatched it from his hand, uncorking it with shaking fingers, and forced it to her brother's lips. He coughed, swallowed, and slowly... so slowly... the rattling eased. His small body slackened against her arms.
Only then did she lift it to her own lips, drinking the bitter draught that burned down her throat. Relief warred with nausea. Her chest loosened, her breaths came easier, but guilt gnawed deeper than the poison ever had.
The messenger tucked the scroll into his sleeve and turned to leave. "Next time," he said coldly, "bring something worth more."
The door shut behind him.
Lian Hua bent over her brother, tears staining her pale cheeks, whispering into his hair:
"Forgive me. Forgive your sister… I will crawl through hell itself if it means you live another day."