The night was quiet.
A soft breeze stirred the curtains in the Empress's chamber, carrying the faint scent of night-blooming flowers from the garden beyond. Li Hua sat at her writing table, hair loosened, crown set aside. Xin Ying stood nearby, as she always did now—close enough to protect, far enough to respect.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Li Hua broke the silence.
"If you were not here," the Empress asked softly, "if you were given a chance to choose freely… what kind of work would you want to do?"
Xin Ying blinked.
The question caught her off guard.
"What… kind of work?" she echoed.
"Yes," Li Hua said, turning slightly to look at her. "A dream. Something you would choose, not something chosen for you."
Xin Ying's fingers curled slowly at her side.
A dream job.
Her mind drifted—past silk robes and palace walls, past blades and poison—back to chalk dust, classrooms, and the sound of students arguing over answers.
"…A teacher," Xin Ying said quietly. "I think I would like to teach."
Li Hua smiled faintly. "To teach?"
"To help people understand," Xin Ying replied. "To guide them so they don't have to stumble blindly."
The Empress held her gaze.
"That suits you," she said.
Xin Ying looked away, heart stirring with something unfamiliar.
This scene… she thought suddenly. This question—
Her chest tightened.
It exists.
She couldn't remember it clearly—only fragments. A conversation. A calm night. Words that felt harmless.
When was it? she wondered. Why can't I remember what comes next?
A knock sounded at the door.
"Your Majesty," a voice called. "Lady Li Yuetong requests your presence."
Xin Ying's breath stilled.
This is it, she realized. This is the scene.
The garden was dimly lit when they arrived, lanterns casting soft halos over stone paths. Li Yuetong stood waiting beneath a flowering tree, arms folded loosely, expression thoughtful.
"You came quickly," Li Yuetong said.
Li Hua gestured for Xin Ying to remain nearby but out of hearing distance.
The two women began to walk slowly.
"She's changing the Palace," Li Yuetong said quietly. "Whether she intends to or not."
Li Hua did not deny it. "She's loyal."
"She's more than that," Li Yuetong replied. "You trust her."
Li Hua paused.
"…Yes."
Li Yuetong glanced at her. "Do you realize how rare that is for you?"
Li Hua exhaled. "I am careful."
"And yet," Li Yuetong continued, "you let her close."
Silence followed.
Then Li Yuetong's tone shifted.
"The Ling clan is moving again," she said. "Subtly. Quietly."
Li Hua's expression hardened. "Ling Zhihao will not stop."
"No," Li Yuetong agreed. "Which is why your attachment to Xin Ying worries the court."
Li Hua stopped walking.
"She is not a weakness," Li Hua said.
"She could become one," Li Yuetong replied gently. "If Ling Zhihao realizes where to strike."
Across the garden, Xin Ying stood perfectly still.
Her heart pounded.
This is where it diverges, she thought. In the novel… this is where things start to fall apart.
But she could not remember how.
Only that something important was about to change.
Li Hua turned back toward her.
Their eyes met across the lantern-lit path.
Xin Ying straightened instinctively.
Whatever the story had planned—
She would face it awake this time.
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