That night, Xiao Zhi waited.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her posture stiff, her eyes fixed on the door as time passed slowly around her.
She listened for movement in the corridor. When footsteps echoed faintly outside her chamber, her muscles tightened instinctively, and she held her breath, counting the seconds until they either stopped or moved on.
They passed without slowing.
Then voices followed, before fading into silence.
Xiao Zhi remained where she was, tense and unmoving, waiting for the familiar sound of the door opening. Minutes slipped by, then more, and her eyes began to sting from staring too long. Still, she did not relax. She had learned better than to trust quiet too easily.
An hour passed before the truth finally settled in.
He was not coming. Not tonight.
She let out a long breath.
She lay down carefully, every muscle still tight, half-afraid the door would creak open the moment she closed her eyes. Sleep came in fragments, half-dreaming, and she could still hear the distant voices outside even after she closed her eyes. But it was better than nothing.
The following night, the ritual repeated.
She waited.
The door stayed closed. Her fear eased, just a little.
And then on the third night, the door burst open.
Not quietly. It slammed against the wall with a heavy thud, almost knocking over the table beside it.
Xiao Zhi flinched.
Kabil stumbled inside, almost tripping over the doorway. He grabbed the doorframe and cursed under his breath, moving slowly and unsteadily. The strong smell of alcohol filled the room at once.
He was far gone.
His robe slipped off one shoulder. His hair was messy, damp with sweat. His eyes were unfocused, struggling to look at her. It took him a moment to even recognize her.
"You…" he said, swaying on his feet as if the world itself were tilting. "You thought you were lucky, didn't you?"
His words slurred together, each one clumsy and incoherent.
Xiao Zhi's heart sank.
He walked closer, still stumbling, knocking his knee against the bed frame hard enough that a sober man would have winced. He didn't even react. Instead, he laughed before reaching out.
His fingers closed around her neck, grip rough but unsteady, lacking its usual strength. Panic surged through her, but almost immediately, she felt it.
His grip was weak. His hand trembled.
Kabil frowned, as if confused by his own weakness.
Then his knees buckled. Without warning, he fell forward. His hand slipped away, and he crashed onto the floor with a heavy sound.
For one terrifying moment, Xiao Zhi thought he was pretending.
Then he didn't move.
She stood still, watching his chest rise and fall. She waited first, counting her breaths.
Nothing.
No sudden movement. No cruel laughter.
He was out cold.
A shaky laugh escaped her lips.
"So," she whispered, "the universe isn't completely heartless."
Her legs finally gave out. She sank onto the edge of the bed, hands trembling as the adrenaline drained from her system. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the unconscious man sprawled on the floor like discarded clothing.
He started to snore faintly. The sound was almost ridiculous.
That night, for the first time in a long while, Xiao Zhi slept.
Not the shallow, half-dreaming doze she'd grown used to. But real sleep. Heavy and deep. The sound of his snoring stayed in the background, harmless now, stripped of its power.
***
Morning came too soon.
Xiao Zhi woke slowly. Fear did not greet her this time. For a brief, disorienting moment, her body felt light, rested in a way it hadn't been in weeks. Then memory surged back.
She sat up quickly. The first thing she saw was him.
Kabil lay sprawled on the floor beside the bed, exactly where he had fallen the night before. One arm was thrown awkwardly over his head, his robe tangled and half-open.
He groaned. The sound was low and rough, thick with annoyance.
A hangover, she realized. A bad one.
Her pulse spiked instinctively, but she forced herself to stay calm and not to move. She watched him carefully as he shifted slightly, then settled again. His breathing was heavy, uneven, laced with the sour smell of alcohol.
He wasn't waking yet.
Xiao Zhi finally moved.
Slowly, she slid her feet onto the floor, careful not to make a sound. Every movement felt exaggerated in the quiet room. She gathered her robe, quickly tied her hair with shaking fingers, and took a single step back, then another.
Kabil didn't stir.
Only then did she allow herself to breathe.
She crossed the room and stopped by the door. Her hand hovered there for a heartbeat before she called the maids who were waiting in front of her room.
"Attend the Prince," she said, keeping her voice calm. "He drank too much last night."
The two servants' eyes flicked past her and stiffened at the sight of Kabil sprawled on the floor.
"Be careful," Xiao Zhi added, stepping aside. "He has a headache, a terrible one." It was the only warning she could give.
They nodded quickly and rushed in.
She didn't wait to watch. "I need to report for my duties. I'll return later."
No one stopped her. They were too busy making sure Kabil didn't wake up as they carefully guided his drunken body onto the bed.
The door closed behind her, and Xiao Zhi walked away.
Her steps were slow at first, her expression carefully neutral as she passed through the familiar corridors. Servants and guards bowed unwillingly, as usual.
But with every step farther from that chamber, her chest loosened.
When she made sure she had walked far enough from her quarters, she finally stopped and let out a big sigh. The events of the night replayed over and over in her mind.
Kabil's drunk, passed out, motionless.
Her mind drifted back to the small porcelain bottle resting on her desk.
Something clicked inside her. She understood what she needed to do.
"If I could make him pass out like that… I could protect myself."
Her lips curved into a faint, calculating smile.
"Thank you," she murmured, not sure who she was addressing. The unknown helper, fate itself, or maybe even her past self. "For reminding me I still have a brain."
She wasn't strong. She wasn't powerful. But she was smart.
And smart people survived. Smart people knew how to strike back.