In the Celestial Realm, there once lived a princess destined to ascend.
Her name was whispered with reverence, her future written in jade and gold. Yet the one who shared her bed coveted that destiny for himself. To stand closer to the throne, her husband chose poison over loyalty, ambition over love.
The child in her womb was the first to perish.
Before she could even understand the pain, life slipped away in silence, a bloodstained secret hidden beneath embroidered robes. When the poison followed, it spread slowly, cruelly, as if savoring her suffering. Each breath became heavier than the last. Each heartbeat dragged her closer to death.
As her body failed, her mind fractured.
She denied it at first, refusing to believe betrayal could wear a familiar face. Rage followed, scorching her veins hotter than the poison itself. She begged the heavens for justice, for mercy, for her child. When no answer came, despair swallowed her whole.
Only at the end did she accept it.
When her eyes finally closed, her soul rose beyond mortal pain, drifting into the Celestial Realm once more. There, freed from flesh and blood, she stood alone—no crown, no child, no husband. Only the truth of what had been stolen from her.
This was not a love story.It was a warning written in blood.
In a world ruled by power and ambition, kindness is fragile, and betrayal often wears the mask of devotion. Life can be taken in a single breath—but fate, once broken, does not always remain silent.
And some souls, even in death, are not finished.