Imperial War Hall – Strategy Session

The war table was long and lacquered, carved with borders that bled into enemy territory. It was the kind of room where conquests were born—not with swords, but with ink, sealed wax, and sharp voices.

General Wei Xuanzhi arrived in full uniform, polished and proud, his gait still confident despite the quiet stripping of allies over the past month. He had heard the whispers. Felt the shift.

But today, he would remind them he still mattered.

He bowed to the Crown Prince.

“Your Highness. It is an honor to serve the court again.”

Then he looked up.

And froze.

Shen Lianhua was already seated across the table.

Clad in black and silver, her Crown Princess seal glinting from her belt. Not beside Shenzhao. Across from Wei.

Eye level. Equal.

Unblinking.

She inclined her head slightly. “General.”

Her voice was calm, but to Wei, it rang like a memory. Not quite a voice he recognized—but it stirred something uncomfortable in him. A breath of familiarity he couldn’t place.

“Crown Princess,” he said after a beat. “A surprise to see you here. War rooms are not often graced with… court beauty.”

Lianhua smiled, cold and sweet.

“And yet here I am. With battle plans that already outflank your recommendations.”

She laid a scroll on the table.

The ministers leaned in as she pointed to troop movement suggestions—already countering Wei’s own, exposing vulnerabilities in supply lines he'd hoped no one would notice.

“This formation,” she said, “was last used in the Third Border War. Your father’s failed siege. Are we repeating mistakes now, General?”

Wei's nostrils flared. A few nobles coughed—poor attempts to hide their amusement.

He was being publicly corrected. By her.

Shenzhao said nothing.

Because this was her move.

Later – In the War Hall Corridor

Wei caught up to her as she exited into the courtyard, her guards respectfully distant.

“You’ve changed,” he said without greeting.

She turned slowly. “Have I?”

He studied her, brow furrowed. “I knew a girl once. Kind. Naïve. Easy to move. She would've curtsied at that table.”

“She died,” Lianhua said softly. “On her wedding night. At the hands of a man she thought she could trust.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

A beat of fear.

“Do I know you?” he asked, suddenly uncertain.

Lianhua leaned closer, just enough for her voice to cut through the space between them like a blade.

“Not yet. But you will.”

She turned, silk trailing behind her like smoke.