Glass rained across the ancestral hall like a storm of glittering needles. Jiao Shui lifted her arm to shield her eyes, but Prince Yang pulled her fully into his embrace, cloak sweeping around her like a shield.
The world went dark.Silent.Still.
Then—
A giggle, bright as a child's bell.
Followed by another.
Then another.
Three in total.A trio that used to haunt Jiao Shui's happier moments.A trio that died because of her.
The air turned cold enough to sting. Candles flickered back to life, hissing as if frightened.
And there they were.
Not fully formed, not visible to anyone else, but to Jiao Shui—Oh, they were painfully clear.
Her three friends stood behind the cracked altar, half-shadow, half-light. Their faces were the same as in her past life: playful, sharp, a little chaotic, and way too honest for their own good.
Lian, the loudmouth scholar.Ruomei, the soft-spoken but deadly accurate observer.Ting'er, the one who could laugh at the Emperor's glare and survive it.
All three smirking like gossiping spirits who had climbed out of the underworld for entertainment.
Prince Yang felt Jiao Shui stiffen in his arms.He loosened his grip but didn't release her.
"What do you see?" he whispered, voice soft yet edged.
Jiao Shui licked her lips. "Nothing."
Lie.
Ting'er snorted loudly enough in Jiao Shui's ears that she nearly flinched."Ohhh she's lying. Again."
Ruomei leaned closer, floating inches above the ground."You should tell him. It's rude to keep secrets from your… lover?"
Jiao Shui choked. Out loud.
Prince Yang's brows pulled tight. "Shui?"
Lian twirled through the air dramatically."He doesn't know! He has no idea! Incredible. Delicious. Tragic. I love it."
The Emperor stepped forward, his voice booming with ritual authority. "The spirits demand restitution. Something was taken from them. Jiao Shui, do you know what it is?"
Ting'er crossed her translucent arms."Yes. She absolutely knows."
Ruomei nodded with ghostly elegance."And she absolutely didn't mean to do it."
Lian tutted."Actually, she kind of did."
Jiao Shui glared at them silently.
Prince Yang's fingers tightened at her waist."You're pale."
"Because your father is accusing me of spirit theft, and your ancestral hall is cracking open," she replied sharply.
Lian hovered above Prince Yang's shoulder."Handsome, but dense."
Ruomei bit her lip thoughtfully."He'll get violent soon."
Ting'er floated upside down."He's already halfway there."
Prince Yang lowered his voice, cold slipping beneath it. "You are keeping something from me."
"Yes," the spirits chorused cheerfully. Only Jiao Shui heard it.
The Emperor interrupted. "The spirits ask for justice. And justice requires a confession. If you know what was taken, speak now."
Jiao Shui swallowed.Her friends leaned in like a dangerous audience.
Ruomei whispered, "If you don't tell them… she will."
"She" meant only one person.Shenzha Jao.
Ting'er drifted close until her forehead nearly touched Jiao Shui's.
"Tell him before she does. Or he'll never forgive you."
Jiao Shui's chest tightened.Her heart throbbed.
Prince Yang's eyes darkened."Jiao Shui. What aren't you saying?"
Jiao Shui opened her mouth.
She never got the words out.
The cracked altar exploded upward, shards scattering like bone fragments, and a voice—cold, familiar, silk-wrapped death—filled the hall:
"She stole my life."
Prince Yang froze.
Jiao Shui froze.
The Emperor froze.
And behind the rising smoke…a silhouette stepped forward.
Slender.Graceful.Terrifyingly serene.
Shenzha Jao was no longer a whisper.
She was here.