The music had long faded.
Lanterns burned low as the city settled into sleep, and the narrow street beneath the flowering tree grew quiet. Li Hua's steps slowed, her weight leaning unconsciously against Xin Ying's side.
Xin Ying noticed first.
Her breathing had evened out.
Her grip on Xin Ying's sleeve loosened.
"She fell asleep…" Xin Ying murmured softly.
Li Hua's head rested lightly against her shoulder, face relaxed in a way Xin Ying had never seen within the Palace walls. Without the crown, without vigilance, she looked peaceful—almost fragile.
Xin Ying hesitated only for a moment.
Then she bent slightly and lifted Li Hua into her arms.
"She's lighter than I thought," Xin Ying whispered, adjusting her hold.
The walk back to the Palace was slow and careful. Hidden guards emerged silently when they realized what had happened, escorting them without a word.
Xin Ying carried Li Hua all the way to her chambers.
She laid her gently onto the bed, removing her shoes, pulling the blanket up with care. For a moment, Xin Ying remained there, watching her sleep.
If this moment could last forever, she thought.
But the world did not pause for wishes.
Xin Ying sat down beside the bed—then, exhausted, leaned back against it and closed her eyes.
Morning light spilled through the curtains.
Li Hua stirred.
Warm sheets. Familiar scents.
"…My bed?" she murmured.
She sat up slowly—and froze.
On the floor beside her bed, Xin Ying slept, her back resting against the frame, one arm loosely folded, face calm.
Li Hua's heart softened instantly.
"So you brought me back," she whispered.
Carefully, she leaned down and brushed her fingers through Xin Ying's hair, just once.
"Thank you."
Xin Ying shifted slightly but did not wake.
Li Hua smiled.
Later that morning, Li Yuetong visited.
"My wife is recovering," she said with relief. "The fever has broken."
"I'm glad," Li Hua replied sincerely.
As they spoke, Li Hua's fingers kept drifting to her wrist—where the braided bracelet still rested.
Li Yuetong noticed.
"You haven't taken it off," she said lightly.
Li Hua paused.
"…I don't intend to."
Her thoughts slipped back to lantern light, laughter, warmth—hands holding hers without fear or expectation.
Li Yuetong studied her quietly.
"So," she said gently, "where were you two last night?"
Li Hua did not answer.
She only smiled faintly—and adjusted the bracelet.
That night, Xin Ying dreamed.
She stood alone in a familiar palace corridor.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
She turned—
A blade flashed.
Pain bloomed in her chest, sharp and final.
She fell, breath stolen, blood staining the floor beneath her.
As her vision faded, she saw Li Hua reaching for her—
"Xin Ying!"
Xin Ying woke with a gasp.
Her hand flew to her chest.
No wound
No blood.
Only the steady pounding of her heart.
The ending, she thought. The story's ending.
She stared into the darkness.
It hasn't changed yet.
Outside, the Palace slept peacefully.
Inside, fate waited.
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Thank you for reading my novel