[The Empress's Lament]
In the Palace of Clouded Splendor, Empress Mu Yao sat by a dim lamp, rubbing a string of Cyan-Yao stones. Her daughter, Princess Si Yirou, stood before her, her expression cold as iron.
"Mother, you saw the ceremony," Yirou spat. "The Five Yao stood by her side as if she were their master. A girl from another world, holding the lifeblood of our realm in her hands!"
"A mark of destiny does not mean fate will follow," the Empress murmured.
"She has them under a spell!" Yirou stepped closer, her eyes flashing. "It's not faith; it's seduction. Do you think they follow her for divinity? No, it's her feminine wiles. I will make the people see the truth. That the 'Saintess' is nothing but a fox-spirit using a 'Beauty Trap,' and the Five Yao are merely her puppets of lust."
The Empress looked at her daughter, feeling a chill. She remembered Mu Yunzhao, the true Saintess who had withered away as a tool of the throne. She saw in Xingyu something different—a quiet sincerity. She hoped, just for a moment, that someone could survive the 'Mark of Destiny' instead of being consumed by it.
[The Princess's Campaign]
Back in her own palace, Si Yirou wasted no time. "Summon the Shadow Clerks," she barked at her attendants. "Inform the storytellers, the art galleries, and the lyricists."
"Princess... are we spreading rumors about the Saintess and the Five Yao?" an attendant whispered.
"Rumors? No. We are making them 'Truth,'" Yirou sneered. "Starting tonight, let the capital know that Gu Xingyu is a seductress. Say she sleeps with the Five Yao every night. The Gold Yao forges her armor, the Fire Yao cooks her meals, the Earth Yao guards her bed—is it duty? Or is it obsession? Commission the paintings. Make them suggestive. Write the poems. The people love a scandal; they won't care for the truth."
Yirou gripped her robes, her eyes like daggers in cold water. "I want her to fall from her pedestal. Just like Mu Yunzhao did. Only then can I take her place."
[The Brother's Heartbreak]
In the East Pavilion, Crown Prince Si Moyan dropped his brush, the ink splattering across his papers like a dark omen. A secret guard had just informed him of his sister's orders.
"Yirou... what have you become?" he whispered, his heart aching.
He remembered her as a bright, ambitious girl who wanted to change the world with her own will. Now, she was using the very tools of hatred she once despised. Gu Xingyu was exactly the kind of person Yirou used to admire—someone who stood independent of fate. Why was she now pushing her into the abyss of slander?
"Is it this world that taught you to fight like this?" he wondered aloud. "Or was it my silence that let you lose your way?"