The moon was veiled behind thin clouds, casting a ghostly glow over the Inner Court. As Lin Qiyue returned from the Phoenix Garden, her steps were light, but her thoughts stormed louder than any drumbeat before war. The Empress Dowager had opened a door—not out of kindness, but out of challenge. And Qiyue had stepped through with fire in her eyes.
Spring had painted the palace in pink and green, with cherry blossoms in full bloom. Their beauty was deceptive, hiding secrets in every petal that floated to the ground. Qiyue passed them without a glance. In her world, beauty was a weapon, and she wielded it with precision.
Inside her courtyard, a lamp flickered low. Ming'er, her most trusted maid, waited with a face tight with anxiety.
"Your ladyship," she whispered. "The Crown Prince sent a gift. A fan with silver ribs and a message in the silk."
Qiyue took it gently, unfolding it with care. Between the painted cranes and water lilies was a single stroke in ink:
> He who controls the wind controls the fire.
She smiled. "He remembers our old games."
Ming'er frowned. "Is it safe to trust him?"
"No," Qiyue said. "But I trust his ambition. And that is enough."
---
By morning, the court was abuzz. The Empress Dowager's invitation to the Spring Hunt had been issued, and Lin Qiyue's name was among the few chosen to accompany the Crown Prince.
The concubines whispered:
"Isn't she too lowly ranked?"
"She must have some hidden patron."
"Perhaps the Empress Dowager herself favors her now?"
Qiyue let them gossip. Their ignorance was as useful as their fear.
The Spring Hunt was not merely a pastime. It was a stage. One where alliances were tested and enemies marked. In her past life, Qiyue had barely been noticed at this event. This time, she would make sure every eye was forced to look her way.
---
The hunting grounds outside the capital sprawled over forest and meadow, a carefully controlled wilderness wrapped in imperial luxury. Tents of crimson and gold lined the glade where the nobility prepared for the hunt.
Qiyue arrived clad in dark green riding silks, simple but elegant. She refused the embroidered veil offered by a servant—she had no intention of hiding her face.
As she mounted her horse, she felt the weight of a stare. Turning slightly, she met the eyes of Prince Rui—second son of the Emperor, a man known for his cunning and his cold smile.
He nodded in acknowledgment. She returned it, eyes guarded.
The Crown Prince approached next, flanked by guards and officials. When he stopped beside her, his tone was light but his words deliberate.
"Lady Lin, I trust you won't mistake a boar for a deer?"
"I prefer to mistake wolves," she replied, her voice like silk over steel. "They tend to hide in noble clothing."
A few courtiers chuckled. The Crown Prince's smile deepened. "I see your aim remains true."
"Always."
The horns sounded. The hunt began.
---
The forest closed around her, sunlight dripping through green leaves. Qiyue rode alone, deliberately separating from the group. Her real quarry today was not an animal—it was a man.
And he came.
Shen Yan, the general cloaked in shadows, emerged from the trees like a ghost. His horse barely made a sound. He dismounted before her path and waited.
"You knew I'd come this way?" he asked.
"I left tracks," she said. "Just subtle enough for someone intelligent to notice."
He raised a brow. "What do you want, Lady Lin?"
Qiyue dismounted slowly, keeping her gaze locked with his.
"I want an alliance."
"You assume I'm not already allied with someone else."
"I assume you haven't been offered anything as valuable as what I can give."
He crossed his arms. "And what's that?"
"Revenge," she said simply. "On those who betrayed your family. On the Empress Dowager, who stripped you of command. On the Crown Prince, if necessary."
He narrowed his eyes. "You'd betray the Prince?"
"I'd betray anyone who stands in my path. That includes you, General."
They stared at each other for a long, breathless moment.
Then Shen Yan chuckled. "I see now why you scare the court."
"I intend to do more than scare them."
He mounted his horse again. "Then I'll consider your offer. But be warned—if you lie to me, I won't hesitate to destroy you."
"Good," she said. "I wouldn't respect you otherwise."
---
As she returned to camp, blood streaked her gloves—she'd brought down a stag, clean and quick. It was a display, not for meat, but for message.
The Empress Dowager watched from her silk-draped seat as Qiyue dismounted and approached with the stag behind her, dragged by servants.
"Well," the old woman said. "You've proven you can kill. Let us see if you can survive what comes after."
"I always do."
---
That night, the banquet under the stars was a glittering affair. Musicians played zithers. Wine flowed. And at the center table, the Crown Prince raised his cup toward Qiyue.
"Lady Lin," he said. "I propose a toast. To second chances."
She stood, met his eyes.
"To unfinished games," she replied.
They drank.
Across the gathering, Prince Rui whispered something to his steward. Minutes later, a servant dropped dead by the fire pit—poisoned wine.
Chaos erupted. But Qiyue sat still, sipping calmly.
"Tested already?" she muttered.
Shen Yan appeared beside her. "Someone wants you shaken."
"Then I must shake harder."
---
By the end of the banquet, three nobles were accused of plotting against the Crown Prince. They were dragged away screaming. None of them were guilty—but they were inconvenient.
Qiyue didn't blink.
She had begun to see the lines of war. Everyone was choosing sides. And every day she survived was another step closer to the throne—if not for herself, then for the ruin she planned to deliver.
That night, beneath the whispering trees, she made a vow.
"To the girl who died betrayed," she whispered, lighting a candle in the dark. "I will not let your death be in vain. They will remember your name. And they will fear mine."
The candle flickered, catching the wind.
But it did not go out.