"This servant overstepped. Please punish me, Your Highness."
"Very well—your punishment is to sleep beside me every night. How does that sound?"
"Your Highness!!!"
Shen Yuan's face blazed crimson, a vein throbbing at his temple. He could not fathom how a single nightmare had turned the princess into someone he no longer recognized.
"Alright, alright, I'm only teasing. I want to sleep a bit longer—you may go."
Su Jing shooed the flustered Shen Yuan out with a laugh. The instant the door closed, every trace of playfulness vanished from her eyes.
Wu Qi. Father. Princess Sheng'an. Everyone who used me. In this life, I will make you pay.
As for Shen Yuan—her lips softened into a private smile.
He was a skilled liar.
On her sixteenth birthday she had confessed to him. Told him she didn't want to marry anyone. That she wanted to stay with him, always.
And how had he answered?
He'd cut her down with a single sentence, his voice cold as winter iron, and told her all he felt for her was a servant's loyalty—nothing more.
After that, he climbed into the Emperor's favor and left her without looking back.
In a fit of spite, she married Wu Qi—the man who had sworn he loved her.
* * *
This time, she swore, she would not let Shen Yuan slip away.
Three days until the Mid-Autumn banquet.
Su Jing remembered: it was at that banquet that Princess Chang'an had turned on her, hurling a full cup of grape wine down the front of her gown. Humiliated, head bowed, she'd slipped away to change—and met Wu Qi for the first time by Li Lake.
A refined gentleman offering a spotless white handkerchief to a drenched, disheveled girl, his eyes holding nothing but her reflection.
All of it a mask. Beneath Wu Qi's warm smile lay nothing but schemes and calculation.
He had been waiting for her on purpose. Every word he would say to her, every gesture meant to win her heart—rehearsed, again and again.
From that night on, step by measured step, Wu Qi had drawn her into his trap, caged her in the Princess Mansion, and dragged her into an endless hell.
Su Jing scoffed inwardly. All he had ever wanted was the blood of the Southern Border running through her veins.
She was nothing but a key to a door he needed opened—to be discarded the moment it swung wide.
Fine. If that's what you want, then let's play your game. I can act, too.
* * *
The Mid-Autumn banquet.
The matron helped Su Jing into her finest gown—one her late mother had sewn by hand. Smoky pink silk that made her skin glow like porcelain, a touch of rouge and kohl, and even without a single jeweled pin in her hair, she was stunning.
"Is Your Highness certain about this dress? The narrow sleeves and cinched waist are similar to Southern Border styles. This servant is afraid it might invite gossip…" the matron said uneasily.
Su Jing nodded without a moment's hesitation.
Precisely because she knew what Wu Qi was after, she intended to flaunt it. Let him see exactly what he craved. Let him lower his guard, expose his weakness—and then deliver the killing blow.
* * *
Fully dressed, Su Jing stepped outside—and walked straight into Shen Yuan, who was bringing her tea.
One glance. His breathing seized for two full heartbeats, and then he dropped his gaze.
A mischievous impulse flared through her. She stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Brother Shen, look—do I look pretty today?"
"Your Highness, I have told you many times—please simply call me by name. That title is improper." He angled his face away, refusing to meet her eyes.
"Oh. Fine then. Shen Yuan—am I pretty today?"
"Your Highness is, naturally, breathtaking." His voice came out barely above a whisper.
You have always been the most beautiful thing in my world—too pure for someone like me to touch, even with his gaze.
"Liar. You didn't even look at me properly."
Without warning, Su Jing closed the distance with a boldness that would have scandalized any court lady, hooked a finger beneath his chin, and forced his eyes to hers.
His heartbeat slammed against her fingertip—wild, desperate, far too fast.
It steadied her more than anything else could have. Only when she could feel the proof that he still wanted her did she find the courage to face whatever came next—gods or demons, she would cut them all down.
Her method of confirmation was, admittedly, a touch brazen.
That radiant, devastating smile filled Shen Yuan's entire field of vision. The tips of his ears caught fire again. Reason told him he was beneath her, that he should bow, avert his gaze, and withdraw. His body refused. He stood rooted, every muscle locked.
"Alright, I'll stop tormenting you. I'm taking Baoyin with me to the Mid-Autumn banquet tonight. Be sure to keep the lanterns lit and wait for me to come home."
"You won't bring me along, Your Highness? I know the grounds better than Baoyin. Perhaps—"
"No, not this time. Next time." Su Jing paused for just two heartbeats, then turned and walked away briskly.
She didn't want him to see her at her worst. If she could help it, she would show him only the best of herself—and never again place him in harm's way.
In this life, don't you dare do anything as foolish as dying for me. Just stay beside me. That's all I need.
So that every time I look back, you're there.
* * *
The Mid-Autumn banquet.
Princesses and noble ladies sat in clusters, discussing calligraphy and painting or toasting one another over tea. Outward harmony; inward, every woman had already ranked every other by gown, jewels, and breeding.
Su Jing sat in a corner, sipping her tea in silence. Just like the last life, she was the least favored princess, and no one bothered to speak to her. She didn't mind. She knew that no amount of silence would spare her from what was coming.
"Is that not Princess Cheng'an? You've been here quite some time—why haven't you offered tea to the Senior Princess?" Princess Sheng'an's voice dripped with saccharine venom.
Su Jing smiled faintly. Even the ugly face she wears is exactly the same.
She rose, picked up a cup of hot tea, and carried it toward the Senior Princess.
The Senior Princess offered a thin, false smile but made no move to take the cup from Su Jing's outstretched hands.
In the last life, the scalding porcelain had burned her fingers crimson until she couldn't bear it any longer and dropped the cup, humiliating herself in front of everyone.
So—since the ending was the same either way, why suffer?
Su Jing paused for only a heartbeat, then smashed the teacup onto the floor. Porcelain shrapnel scattered, and the nearby ladies shrieked.
* * *
"What do you think you're doing?!" The Senior Princess's brow darkened.
"Forgive me, Sister. The tea was too hot. I lost my grip…" Su Jing knelt, the picture of pitiful innocence.
For one instant, the Senior Princess caught something in her kneeling sister's eyes—a flash of mockery, of scorn. She blinked. The feeling vanished.
Su Jing knelt obediently, spine curved, eyes downcast—the very portrait of submission.
"Oh, don't blame Cheng'an. After all, a woman from the Southern Border knows only how to serve men—one can hardly expect anything else." Princess Sheng'an tittered from her seat.
"Since dear sister lacks the skill for tea, allow me to teach you."
Sheng'an picked up a cup of grape wine and flung every drop onto Su Jing.
Dark stains bled across the smoky-pink silk, spreading like fresh blood.
"Heavens—forgive me, Cheng'an, my hand slipped! Quickly, someone take the Ninth Princess to change." Princess Sheng'an laughed prettily and settled back into her seat.
Su Jing stood under every watching eye, head bowed, and walked out in apparent disgrace—though the faintest curl tugged at the corner of her lips.
Time for the leading man to make his entrance.
Every moment of the banquet had been relayed to Wu Qi by his informant.
* * *
"Bullied by her own sisters in front of the entire court. Poor little Princess Cheng'an." Wu Qi leaned against the railing, toying with a jade pendant, eyes narrowed. The very image of an idle young lord.
"If the General were to step in now, the princess's heart would be his in a single stroke."
"Naturally. A stray princess no one at court would miss." Wu Qi let out a thin, contemptuous laugh.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace grounds—
"Where is Baoyin, my personal maid? Why hasn't she followed?" Su Jing glanced at the unfamiliar servant leading her further and further off course.
"Forgive me, Your Highness—Sister Baoyin was called away to help. I'm here to take you to change."
The maid wound through passage after passage until, without Su Jing noticing, they stood at the edge of Li Lake.
"Please forgive this servant—I seem to have taken a wrong turn. If Your Highness would wait here, I'll fetch someone." The maid disappeared around a corner like a wisp of smoke.
Su Jing almost laughed at herself. It was so obvious. How did I not see it the first time?
The night breeze bit into her skin, and she shivered.
A black cloak settled over her shoulders.
"The night is cold, Your Highness. You might catch a chill."