Qin Yufei sat alone beneath the open lattice of her pavilion, eyes following the quiet ripple of the fishpond, though her mind was elsewhere entirely. A fine breeze stirred the silk of her sleeves, but even this couldn't settle the knot twisting in her chest.

Shen Wei had known all along who Bai Jing really was. And yet, he said nothing. Not even a warning. He had let her meet him again and again at the tea house, let her share poems and quiet conversations with someone who...

She exhaled sharply, setting down her teacup, its rim still warm.

Bai Jing. So, that was his real name. Another Bai. Another son of the Emperor. Another prince.

Had she been a pawn in another game again? The memory of Bai Shengli's manipulation still stung like a fresh wound. Now here was Bai Jing who approached her with soft eyes and careful gestures, who called her Lady Qin with such ease it disarmed her, only to be hiding the same golden blood that had tainted everything in her life.

Was he sent to observe her? To trap her into another political mess? Or had he come on his own, trying to be like his brothers?

Either way, it didn't matter. She still ended up deceived. Again.

And Shen Wei...

A heaviness pressed onto her chest. Why had he kept silent? Was he waiting for proof of something? Was it distrust in Bai Jing or in her? Did he think she couldn't handle the truth? Or... did he just not care enough to tell her?

Her fingers curled slightly against her robe.

She was tired, so tired of being used as a lever between power struggles. She lowered her gaze. This time, it wasn't anger she felt. Not even sorrow. Just quiet disappointment. A blooming bitterness at being caught again in a story she didn't write.

The tea had long gone cold, the water in the pond still rippled. Her reflection in it, a flickering silhouette, looked just as unsure as the thoughts tumbling behind her eyes.

In truth, the bitterness she felt wasn't aimed solely at them. It was herself she was most disappointed in.

How could she not have seen it coming? How could she, after everything, after Bai Shengli, after Shen Wei's betrayal, after all those sleepless nights... still believe that someone would approach her without hidden intentions?

She clenched her fingers into the folds of her skirt. Too naive. That was what she had been. Naive to believe Bai Jing'ssudden warmth wasn't calculated. Naive to think Shen Wei's silence was anything other than deliberate. Naive to imagine she could walk through the court's storms and not be struck.

A part of her wished she could go back. Back to her father's house, back to the quiet days when her world was still small, when she could pretend that court politics were far away. Back before her sister's murder. Before the selection. Before she ever met Shen Wei.

But even as the thought flickered in her mind, she knew it was a lie.

Things could never go back. She could never go back.

She also despised who she was when living in that house. She did not want to go back after much considerations.

What had taken her place now was someone unsure of everything, of others, of the world, and even of herself.

Her heart was a mess of contradictions. Her feelings, knotted like a tapestry unraveling at its seams. She did not know what she wanted. Or rather, she did not know what she was allowed to want.

She had once thought she might love Shen Wei. Maybe she after all did. But love born from wounds, was that truly love, or only the need to feel safe again?

Qin Yufei looked up at the sky, pale and wide above her. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and whispered to no one in particular.

"I don't even know who I am anymore."

At the end of the day, as the last orange traces of the sun stretched against the sky, a soft knock came from her door.

"Come in," she said, her voice distant.

The door opened slowly, and Shen Wei stepped inside, his usual imposing presence softened by something gentler, almost careful. In his hands, he held a wooden tray, and draped across it was a folded wedding dress, light silk, embroidered with delicate peonies.

He came to stand a few steps from her.

"I thought you should try it on," he said, his voice low, almost formal. "In case any alterations are needed."

She didn't answer. Not with words. Not even with a glance.

Noticing the silence, he walked to her bed and placed the tray down carefully. Then, after a moment of stillness, he turned back toward her and took a few steps forward. Closer.

She was seated by the window, her face pale under the shifting light, eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the room. The way her hands rested in her lap, unmoving, told him more than anything she could have said aloud.

Shen Wei stopped at a respectful distance.

He did not speak yet.

Instead, he simply looked at her, really looked, and for the first time in many days, his eyes were not cold , but something softer. Something like guilt. Something like regret.

Still, she said nothing.

Shen Wei finally spoke, his voice low, hesitant, rarely like him.

"Is something bothering you?"

Qin Yufei turned her head to face him, and for a moment, she didn't answer. Her eyes closed slowly, as if she were too tired to keep them open.

"Of course something is," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

She opened her eyes again, meeting his. There was no fire in them, just exhaustion.

"You say you're sorry. And then you hide things again. Then you return, trying to make it right. But I don't know which one is you."

Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress.

"Do you even respect me?" she asked quietly, not accusing, but lost. "Do you see me as a person or... are we back to how it was before?"

Her voice cracked on the last word. She blinked, but a single tear slid down her cheek, catching the light.

"I was trying to forgive you," she added, her voice shaking now, "but then..." Her lips trembled. "All I got was another deception."

She looked down, unable to say more. Her shoulders were trembling slightly. The silence that followed was thick, filled with everything left unspoken.

Shen Wei remained still for a moment, his hand suspended in the air between them. Then he slowly lowered it, folding it back into his lap as he looked up at her from where he was squatting beside her.

"You're crying again," he said, his voice cool and low. "If this is because of that Bai Jing matter, I'll deal with it."

He didn't sound angry.

"I didn't think he would approach you like that. I miscalculated."

He didn't apologize. Instead, he stood up slowly, brushing the dust from his robes with quiet precision.

"You're right to be angry," he said after a pause. "But there's no need to overthink everything I do. You don't need to bother to understand them."

He walked to the table and stopped with his back to her, as if considering whether to leave.

"You asked once if I respected you," he said, still facing away. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have brought you back here. And I wouldn't be asking you to stay."

He glanced over his shoulder, just enough to catch her in the corner of his eye. His eyes were cold again.

"Try on the dress. If there's anything wrong with it, tell someone. I'll have it fixed."

Then he turned fully and left the room without another word.

Xiao Tong stepped in quietly, her voice soft.

"Miss, do you need help with anything?"

Qin Yufei didn't answer right away. Her gaze was still fixed on the dress lying neatly folded on the wooden tray. The delicate embroidery shimmered faintly under the candlelight. A wedding dress, elegant, heavy with meaning.

Noticing her silence, Xiao Tong walked closer and picked up the dress carefully. 

"Would you like to try it on, my lady? Just to see if anything needs to be adjusted?"

Qin Yufei hesitated. A knot was forming in her chest again, tight and uncertain.

She looked down at her hands.

"Do you think this will fit on me?"

Xiao Tong smiled gently.

"Of course it will. But even if it doesn't, we can make it perfect. You'll look beautiful, My Lady."

Qin Yufei gave a small nod, her voice almost inaudible.

"Alright... Let's try."

Behind the silk divider, Qin Yufei let Xiao Tong help her into the wedding dress. The fabric was soft against her skin, cool and fragrant with lavender. As the final sash was tied and Xiao Tong stepped back, Yufei slowly turned to look at herself in the standing mirror.

She froze.

The pale gold embroidery caught the light, gliding along the sleeves and hem like flowing clouds. The peonies, delicately stitched in crimson thread, seemed almost alive as the fabric shifted with her breath. Her waist was drawn gently, the collar framing her neck with quiet elegance. She hardly recognized herself, was this truly what a bride looked like?

A sudden rush of emotion rose to her throat. Her reflection looked composed, noble even. But inside... she was far from calm.

Xiao Tong, standing beside her, clasped her hands with admiration.

"My lady... You look truly stunning."

Qin Yufei blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the tears that stung her eyes.

"And," Xiao Tong added in a lower, more conspiratorial tone, "did you know they say His Highness personally selected the fabric and even discussed the design with the tailor himself? Even the red silk lining, he insisted on using a Suzhou weave. The servants said he rejected seven designs before settling on this one."

Qin Yufei looked back at her reflection, her heart beating strangely. So it wasn't just a formal arrangement to him, was it? Something in her chest fluttered and ached all at once.

Cheeks reddening, Qin Yufei suddenly turned on her heels, clutching the skirt of her dress with both hands. The delicate fabric swept against her ankles as she ran past startled servants, through the long corridors of the manor, all the way to the familiar carved doors of Shen Wei's study. Without pausing to knock, she pushed them open, her breath quick and uneven.

Shen Wei looked up at once. The candlelight flickered across the sharp angles of his face, casting deep shadows across his features. His eyes widened ever so slightly as they landed on her dressed entirely in red, her chest rising and falling beneath the fine embroidery, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as though she had run to him without thinking.

The brush in his hand slipped slightly before he placed it down with deliberate care.

He stood.

His gaze, heavy and unreadable, traveled from the top of her unbound hair down to the hem of the dress she wore. There was something unreadable in his eyes, something restrained. But it was there, the way he looked at her. It was the stare she used to see during his class in the palace.

"You shouldn't run in that," he said at last, his tone neutral, controlled. "You'll trip."

Qin Yufei didn't answer right away. Her fingers twisted into the silk of her sleeves.

"Xiao Tong said..." She hesitated, looking down before raising her eyes again. "That Shifu personally chose the materials."

Shen Wei's face remained still.

"It's only proper," he replied. "You're to be my wife. You shouldn't wear something chosen by a stranger.

— But..." Her voice cracked slightly. "Why go to such lengths if... if you only meant this as a solution?"

Shen Wei didn't answer immediately. He crossed the room slowly, until there was only the small distance of the rug between them. He didn't reach for her. His hands stayed behind his back, as if resisting the impulse.

"Because I don't do things halfway," he said simply. "Even if this marriage is just a matter of protection, I won't have people saying you were married off carelessly."

Her throat tightened.

"Is that all it is? Protection?..." she said in a lower voice.

He paused. Something flickered in his eyes, but the answer didn't come. Not right away.

Finally, he said, voice calm but colder than before.

"You shouldn't expect anything from me, Yufei. I've told you this before. I've already caused you too much pain."

She looked at him, unsure whether to scream or cry. The warmth she had caught a glimpse of before. The tenderness, the sorrow, the apology, was gone again, replaced with the same walls he always put up. And yet he had chosen the materials. He had given her the divorce letter.

Was it all an act? Or was this man simply incapable of doing anything without building a cage around it?

Shen Wei's eyes didn't waver. They burned into her with a quiet, unrelenting intensity. Even without a word, his gaze said what his mouth refused to utter. How could he not react? She was standing before him draped in crimson, the wedding red glowing softly under the candlelight, her long hair cascading freely down her back, half undone, half wild. It was not just the dress that made her seem unreal. It was her.

Qin Yufei's cheeks deepened in color once more, heat rising from her neck to her ears under his stare. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heartbeat turned erratic. She could not move, even as he took one slow, deliberate step closer.

Then another.

And another still.

The space between them diminished, but he never crossed it. His steps were quiet, his face unreadable, and yet something in the air trembled—so heavy, it could be felt in the chest.

Qin Yufei's knees softened beneath her, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her dress. She could not speak. Could not even blink.

"Shifu..." Yufei said, almost out of breath.

As the air grew too tight to breathe, Shen Wei suddenly stepped back. He turned his body away from her, his long sleeves swaying gently with the motion.

Facing the shadows of his study, his voice was calm. Too calm.

"You should go and rest," he said without looking at her. "It's late."

The flickering light caught the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips held firm. There was no warmth in his tone, no opening. Just like always.

Behind him, Qin Yufei remained motionless for a long time. Her hands fell limply at her sides, and she stared at his back, unable to understand the storm he always seemed to keep locked inside.

She turned at last, the silence hanging like a thread that might snap at any moment. And then, quietly, she walked away.

✤

In front of the Empress Dowager's pavilion, Jiang Mu stood silently, her embroidered cloak shielding little from the chill that settled in the palace corridors after dusk. Two court maids flanked the door, backs straight, faces indifferent. No one spoke to her. No one looked at her directly. She had been standing for nearly half an hour.

Still, she waited.

The stone path behind her was empty, none had dared accompany her this far. Not after everything that had happened. She clutched her hands in front of her belly, where she now placed all her hopes. If the Empress Dowager didn't agree to help her today... there might be no future for her, for Bai Shengli, or for the child she carried.

Finally, a young eunuch parted the curtains and gestured to her.

"Her Majesty will see you now."

Jiang Mu bowed her head, then stepped inside.

The air within the Empress Dowager's pavilion was thick with incense. Lanterns burned low, casting delicate shadows across the patterned floor. The Empress Dowager sat inside with her fan resting in her hand, her gaze cool and unreadable.

As soon as she stepped before her, Jiang Mu dropped to her knees and bowed deeply.

"Your Majesty," she said, her forehead pressed to the floor. "Please forgive this one for coming uninvited."

The Empress Dowager did not stir.

"You've already come. There's no use asking forgiveness for what's been done. Stand up."

But Jiang Mu remained kneeling.

"I came to plead for His Highness, the Crown Prince," she said, her voice carefully trembling.

"I know the crimes brought shame upon the imperial family... and I know the situation is dire. But I beg Your Majesty, please reconsider his punishment. I..."

The Empress Dowager raised a hand slightly.

"You said you had something new to report. Speak clearly. I have little patience for empty tears."

Jiang Mu's body remained still, but her fingers gripped the fabric of her sleeves tightly. She was acting pitiful on purpose.

The Empress Dowager rested her gaze on Jiang Mu, fingers lightly tapping the fan on her lap. Though her expression remained serene, a flicker of impatience passed through her eyes. It was late, and she was not fond of being disturbed without cause.

"Speak then," she said, her voice smooth and low. "What matter could surpass the disgrace already brought upon this family?"

Jiang Mu's forehead remained pressed to the floor, her shoulders trembling slightly.

"Your Majesty, I come not only for the Crown Prince... but for the child I carry."

The Empress Dowager's fan paused mid-tap.

"A child?

— Yes." Jiang Mu lifted her head, her face pale but composed, lips quivering just enough to seem fragile.

"I am indeed with child. The imperial physician has confirmed it. I carry the Crown Prince's blood, the Emperor's grandchild!"

The Empress Dowager narrowed her eyes slightly, fanning herself.

Jiang Mu took the silence as permission to continue.

"His Majesty... could choose to be lenient now. Not for the Crown Prince's sake alone, but for the future of this dynasty. If the Crown Prince were to fall now, what would become of this child? The court would devour him before he's even born. But if Your Majesty were to step forward... if you were to speak on his behalf..."

The Empress Dowager said nothing for a long moment. Her posture remained poised, yet her eyes had changed. She was no fool, she knew exactly what Jiang Mu was doing. But she was also a woman who had spent her life maneuvering power and kinship like threads in an embroidery frame.

"You ask much," she said finally, her tone unreadable. "The Emperor is already displeased, and Shen Wei's reappearance has tilted the balance further. Bai Shengli acted recklessly, and now the entire palace is burdened by his madness. Not to mention that Bai Jing is back too."

Jiang Mu bowed again, lower this time.

"That is why I came to you, Your Majesty. If anyone can shield him, it is you."

The Empress Dowager's eyes dropped to the figure kneeling before her. Young, beautiful, ambitious, and now carrying the only thing that might secure her place in this web of politics.

After a moment, she sighed quietly.

"Rise. I should consider it."

Jiang Mu's shoulders finally relaxed, but she did not yet dare stand. The Empress Dowager stood from her seat, slowly making her way to the back of her room.

"The child... had better be born healthy," she said without turning around. "Or all of this will have been for nothing."

Then, she disappeared behind the silken curtains, leaving Jiang Mu bowed in the middle of the silent pavilion, a faint smile creeping onto her lips.

Returning from the Empress Dowager's pavilion, Jiang Mu stepped lightly into her chambers, the ends of her sleeves brushing against the floor. The doors closed behind her with a soft click.

Inside, reclining with ease against the carved wooden window frame, was Bai Jing.

He looked up the moment she entered, a sly smile curving his lips.

"You look pleased, Crown Princess," he said, pushing off the window frame. "Did Her Majesty take the bait?"

Jiang Mu didn't respond immediately. She let her cloak slide from her shoulders, silk brushing against her body as it pooled to the ground. She walked toward him slowly, like a cat basking in the satisfaction of a successful hunt.

When she reached him, she tilted her head, her expression unreadable at first, then softened into a smile of her own.

"Of course it went well," she murmured.

Her fingers rose to his face, long and delicate, brushing beneath his chin to tilt his gaze upward.

"Would I ever fail?" she added, voice like honey and wine.

Bai Jing's grin widened, but there was hunger behind it now. He leaned down just as she leaned in, their mouths finding each other. Her hand slipped to the nape of his neck, his to her waist. The kiss deepened, slow and heated.

When they finally parted, neither moved away.

"Everything," she whispered, lips still close to his, "is going exactly our way."

And they both knew, it had only just begun.