Imperial Garden – Lotus Path, Dusk

Shen Lianhua walked slowly beneath the painted trellises of the lotus garden, her palace escort several paces behind, respectful but watchful.

A message had arrived earlier—unofficial, unsigned, but unmistakably written by Wei Xuanzhi.

“A moment of your time. For closure.”

She wore white today. Serene. Unreachable.

Just ahead, Wei Xuanzhi waited by the water’s edge, back straight, arms folded behind him. The same posture he once used in battle—now turned on her, as if she were an enemy line to conquer.

She didn’t bow.

He turned.

“So it’s true,” he said. “You’d rather be a political puppet than a general’s wife?”

She smiled. Slow. Cold.

“Better a crown’s equal than a sword’s afterthought.”

His jaw tightened. “This isn’t you. You don’t make decisions like this.”

“You’re right,” she said lightly. “The old me wouldn’t. She would’ve believed your lies. Trusted your flattery. Died for your ambition.”

She stepped closer—close enough for him to smell the peony oil in her hair, the scent she once wore just for him.

“But I’m not her anymore.”

Xuanzhi’s voice dropped. “Do you know what you’re doing? The palace will chew you up. The Crown Prince won’t protect you forever.”

“He doesn’t have to,” she said. “Because I don’t need protection. I need space to destroy you properly.”

He blinked.

That was not the Lianhua he remembered.

“Mei was right,” he muttered. “You’ve changed.”

“Tell Zhou Mei,” she said sweetly, “that I’ll see her at court. Soon.”

She turned, robes whispering behind her like silk armor.

Wei Xuanzhi watched her go, heart pounding not with guilt, but something far more dangerous: realization.

He didn’t just lose her.

He lost the woman she was becoming—brilliant, dangerous, untouchable.

And it was already too late.