The throne hall buzzed with the sharp, metallic tension of unsheathed blades. Courtiers stood rigid as statues, fans closed, eyes lowered. Even the air seemed to bow to the weight of the Emperor's presence.
Jiao Shui entered slowly, the Blossom of Dawn glowing in her hands like a captive sunrise.
Her spirits tightened around her shoulders."Something is wrong, Jiao…""Very wrong…"
Prince Yang and Song Lingfang flanked her, each radiating a completely different flavor of murderous protectiveness.
Yang walked like he owned the hall.Lingfang walked like he'd burn it down to keep her safe.
But the moment they stepped forward, the doors slammed shut behind them.
A hush sliced through the room.
On the golden throne, the Emperor watched her with eyes too sharp. Too knowing. Too awake.
Jiao swallowed.
And beside him—seated gracefully, dressed in silk darker than midnight—was a woman she had never seen before.
She was beautiful in the way winter is beautiful: polished, silent, deadly.
Her gaze slid over Jiao like a blade dipped in perfume.
Her lips curved faintly.A smile without warmth.
Jiao's stomach dropped.
Who was she?
The Emperor Spoke First
"Lady Jiao Shui."His voice was soft, too soft."You have returned alive."
Jiao bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty. I have completed the task."
She lifted the Blossom of Dawn.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
The Emperor leaned forward.His pupils contracted.
Almost hungrily.
The strange woman beside him placed a gentle hand on his arm, as if calming a storm only she could see.
Jiao's spirits whispered nervously.
"That woman… her aura…""…it feels ancient.""Like she's not fully human."
Prince Yang stepped in front of Jiao, blocking his father's view.
"You summoned her for trial results," Yang said coolly. "Nothing more."
The Emperor smiled. Slow. Calculated.
"Of course, my son."
Then his gaze slid to Jiao again.
"Bring the flower closer."
Jiao's Instincts Screamed
Every bone in her body said don't.
The Blossom of Dawn pulsed, reacting to something—no, someone—in the room.
Song Lingfang stepped forward."Your Majesty, Lady Shui is exhausted. The Blossom will be presented after she rests."
The Emperor's eyes flickered.A shadow of displeasure crossed his features.
The woman beside him finally spoke, her voice sweet as winter wine.
"Oh? Is the girl too fragile for her own accomplishments?"Her smile sharpened."Let us admire her strength. After all… she survived the Third Peak. A rare feat."
Jiao felt a cold prickle crawl up her neck.
That voice.
That presence.
Her body remembered something her mind didn't:Fear.
The woman stood gracefully and glided toward Jiao.
Her movements were too smooth, too silent.
"You carry an extraordinary flower."She circled Jiao like a serpent examining its next meal."It glows… beautifully. Like a soul that has died before."
Jiao stepped back.Prince Yang grabbed her arm gently.
Song Lingfang's hand hovered over his sword.
The woman smiled wider.
"So delicate… reincarnated little blossom."
Jiao froze.
Prince Yang's eyes darkened.
"How do you know that?" he demanded.
The woman tapped a finger to her lips."Because she is not the only one in this hall who has returned from death."
The Emperor's expression tightened.The court collectively flinched.
Jiao's spirits clawed at her shoulders.
"She sees us…""She sees EVERYTHING…"
The woman met Jiao's eyes.
"Tell me, child… do you remember your first death yet?"
Jiao's heart dropped.Her pulse thudded like drumbeats of panic.
"No," she whispered.
The woman smiled."Good. It will be more… exciting when it arrives."
The Emperor rose from the throne abruptly.
"That is enough."
But the woman's eyes never left Jiao.
Her next words were soft, gentle, horrifying.
"Your destiny is not with the flower, girl. It is with the one who killed you before."
Jiao felt her blood run ice-cold.
"I—what?" she whispered.
The woman stepped closer.
"And he is already searching for you."
A thick silence swallowed the hall.
Prince Yang pulled Jiao behind him, fury radiating off him.
Song Lingfang placed a hand on her back protectively.
The Emperor slammed his staff against the floor.
"Return to your quarters, Lady Jiao Shui."His voice trembled with something he rarely showed—fear."And keep that flower with you. Do not let it out of your sight."
Jiao nodded shakily and backed away, escorted by two men with burning, murderous eyes.
But before she could leave—
The woman called after her softly:
"Little blossom… the one who killed you was someone you trusted."
Jiao froze.
Her spirits trembled.
Prince Yang turned slowly, voice low and dangerous.
"Say his name."
The woman's smile widened like a blooming night flower.
"Oh, I don't need to."
Her eyes glinted with wicked delight.
"Because he is standing in this room."
Jiao turns around.Her eyes scan the hall.
And one familiar face looks back at her with an expression she has never seen before:
guilt.