The courtyard was still when Shen Lian arrived. No trumpets. No attendants.
Only a set of ornate jade gates, newly painted and carved with plum blossoms.
"Your new residence, my lady," the eunuch said with a bow. "By imperial decree."
She stepped through the gate.
It was quiet. Too quiet. No handmaids. No guards. No gossiping maids sweeping corners.
The furnishings were rich—too rich. Carved sandalwood, gold thread curtains, a mirror polished until it reflected the ceiling like still water.
A palace within a palace.
A cage.
Zhou arrived an hour later, silent as always.
"They placed it far from all the main halls," he said, eyes scanning the empty garden. "No servants assigned."
"They want to see what I'll build," Shen Lian said. "Or how I'll collapse."
She turned to the table, where a scroll lay unopened.
A gift list.
Dozens of names.
The Consort of Splendor sent a rosewood comb.
The Noble Lady Qin offered honeyed dates.
Even the Empress had sent a porcelain vase—empty.
"They want to test the waters," Zhou said.
"No," Shen Lian murmured. "They want to know if I bleed."
She dipped a brush in ink and penned a list of her own:
Plum wine to Consort Yi.
Camphor sachets to Noble Lady Qin.
One embroidered handkerchief to the Empress—with plum blossom threads.
The next morning, the empty residence stirred.
Gifts began to arrive.
But Shen Lian only smiled.
The cage might be gilded, but she had already found the hinges.
And she planned to take the whole door off.