By the third day, the letter had made its way into the wrong hands—exactly as Shen Lian intended.
A senior maid in the Hall of Records "accidentally" uncovered it while sorting old tribute files. Within an hour, the note had reached the Empress's most trusted secretary.
And by sunset, the palace gates had closed early, citing a vague threat to imperial security.
The Cold Palace, for all its silence, felt warmer that evening.
Zhou entered through the side hall, a rare grin tugging at his lips. "You've started a fire," he said.
"Good," Shen Lian replied. "Now we see who burns first."
He handed her a folded scroll. "More whispers. They say the Second Prince met with an official from the Ministry of Rites. And the Empress had a headache… all day."
Shen Lian smiled.
The next morning, a royal decree was announced in the court gardens: all young ladies in the selection list were to appear for a formal inspection by the Dowager Empress.
A tradition last invoked ten years ago.
"Unexpected," murmured the head matron.
"Desperate," Shen Lian corrected.
And she dressed in blue, not red.
Let them talk.
As she stepped into the sunlight, she knew every eye would be on her.
And someone, somewhere, would flinch.