Liu Lanzhi did not sleep again.
The storm raged through the night, rain beating against the palace roofs as thunder rolled endlessly in the distance. Candlelight flickered in the chamber, stretching shadows across the walls like grasping hands. Each sound—each creak of wood, each echo of footsteps in the corridor—kept her senses sharp.
In her previous life, she had cried through this night.
She remembered it clearly.
Fear, humiliation, confusion—all tangled together until she no longer knew where one emotion ended and another began. She had waited for Yun Qingyu to return, dreading and expecting it in equal measure.
He never came.
By morning, everything had already changed.
Liu Lanzhi sat upright on the bed, her back straight, her hands folded calmly in her lap.
This time, she waited for daylight.
When the first pale light filtered through the window, the heavy doors to the chamber opened.
Two palace maids entered quietly, heads lowered, movements practiced and cautious. Their gazes flickered briefly toward Liu Lanzhi before dropping again.
"Your Highness, the Third Princess," one of them said softly, kneeling. "The Crown Prince has ordered that you be attended to."
Liu Lanzhi studied them in silence.
These faces were familiar.
In her previous life, one of these women had later betrayed her. The other would die quietly, blamed for a mistake she never made.
"Help me wash," Liu Lanzhi said at last.
Her voice was steady—too steady for someone who should have been frightened, confused, and weak.
The maids exchanged a quick glance but did not question her. They moved swiftly, bringing warm water and fresh garments. As they helped her out of bed, Liu Lanzhi allowed herself to lean slightly, just enough to sell the illusion of frailty.
Illusions mattered.
As they washed her and dressed her in layers of pale silk, Liu Lanzhi watched their reflections in the mirror. Every movement, every pause, every breath—she remembered all of it.
This was the morning she had begged.
This was the morning she had lost the first piece of herself.
When they were finished, the maids withdrew without another word.
The doors closed.
Silence returned.
Liu Lanzhi rose slowly and walked to the window. The storm had passed, leaving the palace drenched and gleaming under the morning sun. The air smelled clean, as if the world had been scrubbed of blood and lies.
She laughed softly under her breath.
Lies.
Not long after, the doors opened again.
This time, only one person entered.
Yun Qingyu.
He wore black robes embroidered with subtle gold thread, his long hair tied back neatly. There was no sign of unrest in his expression—no trace of the storm that had ravaged the night before. He looked exactly as she remembered: composed, distant, untouchable.
His gaze settled on her immediately.
She stood by the window, light outlining her figure. In her previous life, she had avoided his eyes.
This time, she met them.
Something flickered briefly in his gaze.
He dismissed the servants with a gesture. The doors shut once more, sealing them inside the chamber.
Neither spoke at first.
Yun Qingyu was the one to break the silence.
"You are awake earlier than expected, Third Princess of the Northern Lands."
There it was.
The title, precise and cold.
Liu Lanzhi inclined her head slightly, the movement graceful and restrained. "Your Highness."
No fear.
No hesitation.
Yun Qingyu walked closer, his steps unhurried. Each footfall echoed faintly against the stone floor. He stopped a short distance away, close enough for her to feel the pressure of his presence without being touched.
"You should be resting," he said.
"I have rested enough," Liu Lanzhi replied.
Her answer was immediate.
Too immediate.
Yun Qingyu studied her carefully now, his gaze lingering on her face, her posture, her eyes. In her previous life, this scrutiny would have made her flinch.
Now, she endured it calmly.
"You do not seem surprised," he said.
Liu Lanzhi smiled faintly. "Should I be?"
"Yes."
The single word carried weight.
"You were injured," Yun Qingyu continued. "You lost consciousness in the forest. You were brought here in the middle of the night." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Most would be frightened."
"I am not 'most,'" Liu Lanzhi replied.
She turned fully to face him, her hands folded neatly before her. "And fear will not change my circumstances."
Silence stretched between them.
This was wrong.
In his memory—though he would never admit it—she should have been trembling by now. Her eyes should have been red from crying, her voice unsteady, her defiance raw and desperate.
Instead, she stood before him like someone who had already accepted the outcome.
Or someone who had seen it before.
"You are calm," Yun Qingyu said slowly.
"I am tired," Liu Lanzhi corrected.
That, at least, was not a lie.
He took another step closer.
"Do you know where you are?" he asked.
"The palace of the Scarlet Dragon Empire," Liu Lanzhi answered. "Within the Crown Prince's residence."
Her reply was precise.
Yun Qingyu's gaze sharpened.
"And do you know why you are here?"
"Yes."
He waited.
She did not elaborate.
After a moment, Yun Qingyu spoke again. "You were brought here as part of the terms following the fall of the Northern Lands."
"I am aware."
"You are to remain here," he said. "Until further notice."
Liu Lanzhi met his gaze steadily. "That was never in question."
Another deviation.
In her previous life, this was when she had argued. When she had demanded answers. When she had clung stubbornly to dignity like a shield.
Now, she offered none of that.
Yun Qingyu reached out.
His fingers brushed her chin lightly, lifting her face just enough to force her to look at him. The contact was gentle—but it was unmistakably an act of control.
Her breath did not hitch.
Her pulse did not betray her.
Inside, her mind was already moving.
He's testing me.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
She did.
Their gazes locked.
For a brief moment, something unreadable crossed his eyes.
"You do not look at me the way you used to," Yun Qingyu said.
Liu Lanzhi smiled—small, polite, empty. "Perhaps Your Highness remembers a version of me that no longer exists."
His fingers tightened slightly before he released her.
"You speak as if you already understand your place here."
"I understand enough," she replied. "Resistance without power is foolish. And I am not foolish."
That was the moment.
The first true deviation.
In her previous life, she had never said those words.
Yun Qingyu regarded her in silence, his expression inscrutable. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed softly.
"Interesting," he said.
The word sent a chill through her spine.
"Very well," Yun Qingyu continued. "You will be allowed to remain within this residence. You will be provided with servants and necessities befitting your status."
He paused deliberately.
"But do not mistake this for mercy."
Liu Lanzhi lowered her gaze. "I would never."
As he turned to leave, Yun Qingyu stopped at the doorway.
"Third Princess," he said, not looking back. "Do not attempt to leave."
"I won't," Liu Lanzhi replied.
He glanced over his shoulder, studying her one last time.
"For your sake," he added, "I hope that is true."
The doors closed behind him.
Liu Lanzhi exhaled slowly.
Her hands trembled—just a little.
She pressed them together until the shaking stopped.
So this is how it begins, she thought.
In her previous life, she had fought blindly and lost everything.
This time, she would not fight where she was weakest.
She walked back to the mirror and looked at her reflection—the calm face, the unscarred skin, the eyes filled not with fear, but calculation.
A faint smile curved her lips.
"This time," she whispered, "I'll play along."
And for the first time since her rebirth, Liu Lanzhi felt something she had not allowed herself to feel yet.
Anticipation.