Crown Prince’s War Council Room – Three Days Later

The hall was empty except for three figures.

Shen Lianhua.
Li Shenzhao.
General Qiao Ren, one of the oldest commanders in the empire—and fiercely loyal to the Crown Prince.

On the table before them: a fabricated, but believable military draft proposal. On the surface, it recommended an emergency transfer of border troops in the north to cover an “unverified threat.”

But in truth?

It would violate three imperial security edicts.

And if someone approved it?

They would be committing treason in ink.

“Are you sure he’ll take the bait?” General Qiao asked.

“Wei Xuanzhi won’t resist,” Lianhua said coldly. “He’s always believed power belongs to men who grab it first.”

“And Yu?” Shenzhao added.

Lianhua smiled.

“Yu will do what rats do when they smell collapse. He’ll run—right into the fire.”

That Night – In the Shadows of the Ministry of War

A “leaked” draft of the proposal was slipped into the hands of Minister Yu’s courier.

It bore the Crown Prince’s seal. Or so it seemed.

Attached was a forged message, dripping with just enough arrogance and desperation to be believable:

“Advance the plan discreetly. Secure Wei’s signature for legitimacy. We’ll present it as a united front once the Emperor’s health fails.”

Exactly the kind of move Yu would expect from a prince feeling the throne slip.

By morning, the trap had legs.

Wei Manor – Two Days Later

Wei Xuanzhi read the draft with narrowed eyes, brow furrowed.

“He’s nervous,” he muttered. “He knows he’s losing control of the army.”

Minister Yu, sipping wine across from him, nodded.

“Then we strike now. Sign it. We’ll add my seal and present it to the War Ministry. By the time the Crown Prince realizes we’ve moved, it will be law.”

Xuanzhi hesitated.

Something about it felt… too easy.

But then again—so had Lianhua, once.

“Fine,” he said, and dipped his brush in ink.

“Let’s bring the Crown Princess down with the rest of them.”

Eastern Palace – Secret Archive

Lianhua watched as the shadow courier placed the signed scroll before her, sealed by both Wei Xuanzhi and Minister Yu.

She stared at it like one might a guillotine—quiet. Certain.

“It’s done,” Xiao Fen whispered.

Lianhua didn’t respond at first.

Then she unrolled the scroll slowly, her fingers brushing over the signature.

Her past life had ended with this name.

Now her future would begin with its ruin.

“Prepare the tribunal,” she said. “And summon the Emperor’s magistrates.”

“It’s time the court sees who they really are.”