The corridors of the Moon-Sealed Palace carried a strange hush, as if the very walls leaned in to eavesdrop. Jiao Shui walked through them with her hands hidden in her sleeves, each step quiet enough to fool ghosts. Yet her mind pulsed with heat.
Song Lingfang's warning still clung to her skin:Prince Yang moves faster than rumor.
That alone would have unsettled any court lady. But for her, reborn and unwilling to repeat her doom, it meant recalculating every move.
At the Jade Pivot Bridge, a ripple of pale light shimmered over the lake. She paused. The moon's reflection broke against the water as though something had disturbed it from below.
"Show yourself," she murmured.
A single lotus petal floated upward, rising into the air instead of falling. Then the shadows folded, and a figure emerged — draped in dark ceremonial silk, eyes burning like smoldering copper.
Shenzha Jao.
Not a ghost. Not an illusion.Very much alive.
And smiling.
"You walk the palace beautifully, Jiao Shui," she said. "Like a woman who remembers a death she hasn't yet lived."
Jiao Shui's breath tightened. The irony stung — this was the woman who once died in her place, swallowed by grief while Prince Yang worshipped her name. The woman whose death had ignited an empire's downfall.
"You shouldn't be here," Jiao Shui replied softly. "The palace is folding in on itself. Danger prowls these halls."
Shenzha tilted her head, her voice a velvet blade."Danger follows you, not me."
Before Jiao Shui could respond, a low hum trembled beneath their feet — the sound of palace wards stirring awake. Someone was approaching. Someone heavy with authority.
Shenzha stepped closer, too close, her breath cold as river frost."Be careful, Shui. This time, the crown prince is not the only one hunting your fate."
Then she slipped back into the shadows, vanishing as if she had never been there.
A heartbeat later, Song Lingfang appeared at the end of the bridge, his expression edged with worry.
"I felt the wards shift," he said. "Who were you speaking with?"
Jiao Shui did not answer.Not yet.Not until she understood the impossible:Shenzha Jao was alive.Alive and plotting.
Lingfang's eyes searched hers, soft as rain yet sharp as steel."Jiao Shui… tell me."
She swallowed.Not now.Not while threads unravelled faster than she could hold them.
Instead, she turned and walked past him, whispering only three words:
"The past returns."
And somewhere in the palace, Prince Yang paused mid-step, as if he, too, felt a shift in the tapestry of fate.
The threads were tightening.And every one of them pointed straight at Jiao Shui.