Yan Jizhao's POV
I can't stop seeing her die.
Three days since the breakfast ceremony. Three days since I humiliated myself in front of the entire court. Three days of memories flooding my mind every time I close my eyes.
Her, falling from a tower.
Her, choking on poisoned tea.
Her, kneeling in an execution yard.
Her, dying alone in bed while I signed documents in another room.
Her, her, her—always her.
"Your Majesty, you haven't touched your food."
I look up. General Xiao sits across from me in my private study, concern written all over his face. He's been hovering like a worried mother for three days.
"I'm not hungry," I say.
"You haven't eaten since the breakfast." He pushes the plate closer. "The physician says you're having visions. Stress-induced hallucinations from working too hard."
Hallucinations. That's what everyone thinks. Even Xiao doesn't believe me.
But I know what I saw. What I'm still seeing.
"They're not hallucinations," I mutter.
"Then what are they?"
Memories. But that's impossible. You can't remember things that never happened.
Except they feel real. Too real.
I remember the weight of her body when I carried her after the tower fall—except I never carried her. I remember the smell of the poison on her lips—except I never got close enough to smell anything. I remember signing her execution order—except she's alive, walking around the palace right now.
"Your Majesty," Xiao says carefully. "Perhaps you should rest. Cancel your meetings for a few days—"
"No." I stand up sharply. "I'm fine. I just need to focus on work."
Work. Yes. Work makes sense. Military strategies, trade agreements, tax reforms—these are solid, real things. Not like the phantom memories trying to drown me.
I bury myself in documents for hours. It helps. When I'm reading reports, I'm not seeing her die.
But then there's a knock on my door, and everything falls apart again.
"Enter," I call.
It's her. The Empress. My wife whose name I can't stop thinking about.
Meilin.
She bows properly. "Your Majesty, I apologize for interrupting. Lord Wei sent me with papers that need your seal."
Of course Wei sent her. He's been doing that a lot lately—finding excuses to send her to my study. Testing something. But what?
"Put them on the desk," I say without looking up.
She does, moving quietly, gracefully. Then she turns to leave.
"Wait."
She stops. Turns back. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
I don't know why I stopped her. Don't know what I want to say.
Three days ago, I ran out of a ceremony like a madman. The whole palace is gossiping. Saying I'm sick. Saying the marriage is cursed. Saying the Empress has driven me mad.
But she hasn't done anything. That's the problem.
She's perfect. Too perfect.
She smiles at nobles like she's supposed to. Performs ceremonies without mistakes. Handles palace politics like she's been Empress for years, not days.
But when she looks at me, there's nothing. No nervousness. No excitement. No hope.
Just polite emptiness.
"Are you afraid of me?" I ask suddenly.
Her eyebrows rise slightly. "Should I be?"
"Most people are."
"I'm your wife, not most people."
"Exactly. You're my wife. But you act like I'm a stranger."
She tilts her head. "Isn't that what you want? You said our marriage was political. That you didn't expect—"
"I know what I said." I stand up, frustrated. "But other wives still... they still try. They ask for my time. They get jealous. They cry when I ignore them."
"Would you prefer I cry?"
"No! I just—" I stop. What do I want? "Why don't you care?"
For a moment—just a moment—something flickers in her eyes. Pain? Anger? But it's gone so fast I might have imagined it.
"I do care, Your Majesty. I care about serving the empire. About being a good Empress. Isn't that enough?"
It should be. It's exactly what I wanted—a wife who understood her place, who didn't demand emotional things I can't give.
So why does it feel like I'm losing something I never had?
"The visions," I say abruptly. "The things I saw at the breakfast. You weren't surprised."
She stills. "You were clearly unwell, Your Majesty. I was concerned—"
"Stop lying." I move closer. "You knew what I was talking about. When I mentioned the poisoning, the garden—you knew."
"I didn't—"
"Your face went white. Your hands shook." I'm right in front of her now. "How did you know?"
She looks up at me, and for the first time since the wedding, I see real emotion in her eyes. Fear. And something else.
Exhaustion.
Deep, bone-tired exhaustion that shouldn't exist in someone so young.
"Because," she says quietly, "you're not the only one having visions."
My breath catches. "You've been seeing them too?"
"Not visions." Her voice is barely a whisper. "Memories."
"That's impossible. Memories of what?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it. Shakes her head. "You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me. I've been watching my wife die five different ways for three days. I'll believe anything at this point."
She laughs, but it sounds broken. "Five ways. Yes. That's exactly right."
"What does that mean?"
Before she can answer, the door slams open. Lord Wei storms in, his face tight with barely controlled anger.
"Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion, but the Empress was supposed to return immediately—"
"I'll return when I'm finished," Meilin says coldly.
Wei's eyes narrow. "Your Majesty, it's improper for you to be alone with the Emperor in his private study—"
"I'm his wife," she snaps. "How is that improper?"
I've never heard her use that tone. Sharp. Angry. Alive.
Wei looks like he wants to argue, but he can't. She's right—she's the Empress. She can be wherever she wants.
"Of course," Wei says through gritted teeth. "I apologize. I'll wait outside."
He leaves, but not before shooting Meilin a look that makes my instincts scream danger.
"You don't like him," I observe.
"No one should like him," she says simply.
"Why?"
She meets my eyes. "Because he's the one who cursed us."
The world tilts.
"What?"
"The dreams, the visions, the memories—it's all real." Her voice is steady now, like she's made a decision. "We had a different life once. A happy life. Lord Wei took it away. He cursed you to forget and cursed me to die. Over and over and over."
My mind reels. "That's insane."
"I know. I sound insane. But you've seen it, haven't you? In the visions. Different deaths. Different timelines. All ending the same way—with you watching me die and feeling nothing."
My chest tightens because yes, that's exactly what I've been seeing.
"How many times?" I whisper.
"Five," she says. "I've died five times. And you ordered three of those executions yourself."
The room spins. I grab the desk for support.
"No. I would never—"
"You did. Because the curse made you forget you loved me. Made you cold. Made you into someone who could watch his wife die without caring."
Tears shine in her eyes, but she doesn't let them fall. "And now it's breaking. The curse is breaking, and you're finally remembering. But it's too late. Way too late."
"Too late for what?"
"For us." She backs toward the door. "I died loving you five times. I won't do it a sixth time. So whatever guilt you're feeling, whatever memories are coming back—keep them. I don't want them. I don't want you."
She reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!" I lunge forward, grabbing her wrist.
The moment we touch, the world explodes.
Light. Blinding, burning light.
And suddenly I'm not in my study anymore.
I'm in a garden. The moon hangs huge and silver overhead. And I'm holding Meilin—but different. Younger. Happier.
"I love you," the other me says, smiling like an idiot.
"I love you too," she replies, and she means it. Her whole face glows with it.
"We're going to be so happy," I promise her. "I'll make you the happiest Empress in history."
She laughs. "Just love me. That's all I need."
"Always," I swear. "I'll always love you."
Then the vision shatters.
I'm back in my study, still gripping her wrist. But now tears are streaming down my face.
Because I remember.
I remember EVERYTHING.
I loved her. I chose her. Not because of prophecy or politics—because I wanted to.
We were happy.
And someone took that away.
"You remember," Meilin whispers, staring at my tears.
"I remember," I choke out. "Gods, I remember. We were—we were happy. I loved you so much. How did I forget? How could I forget?"
She pulls her wrist free gently. "The curse."
"Then we'll break it. We'll fix this. We'll—"
"No."
The word is final.
"Meilin, please—"
"You loved me once," she says softly. "And then for five lifetimes, you killed me. Do you really think one memory changes that?"
"But it wasn't me. The curse—"
"Made you forget. I know." She opens the door. "But I can't forget. I remember every death. Every time you looked at me with cold eyes. Every time you signed my execution without blinking. Every time you chose her over me."
"Her?"
But she's already gone.
I stand frozen, her words echoing.
Every time you chose her over me.
Her. Who is—
Another memory crashes in.
A woman with kind eyes and a poisonous smile.
Consort Shen.
And I know—somehow I know—she's coming.