Zhou Manor – Late Afternoon

The light through the paper screens was soft, but Zhou Mei’s mood was anything but. The porcelain teacup in her hand cracked from the pressure of her grip—its warm jasmine contents spilling across the table.

“Concubine Su was supposed to be untouchable,” she hissed, pacing the room.

Her maid shrank back. “Lady Shen caught her with barely a ripple. She—she made it look like kindness…”

“That’s what makes her dangerous,” Mei snapped. “She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t punish. She smiles while pulling your world apart.”

“Then strike her back, mistress,” the maid whispered. “Before she marries into power no one can touch.”

Mei stilled.

Yes.

It was time to stop whispering and start acting.

That Evening – General Wei’s Estate

Mei arrived uninvited, draped in a veil of tears and lavender perfume.

Wei Xuanzhi stood in the moonlight, sharpening his sword when she approached.

“You said you’d protect me,” she said. “You said once she was gone, we’d rise together.”

He turned, expression unreadable.

“You told me she was fragile. Gullible.”

“She was!”

“Then why is the Crown Prince announcing their wedding to the entire empire while you're hiding behind gossip and servants?”

Mei’s lip trembled, but her eyes sparked with fury.

“Because she cheated fate, and now we’re all paying for it.”

Wei watched her carefully. “What are you planning?”

Mei leaned close, whispering, “If we can’t win in the court… maybe it’s time we remind her what it means to bleed.”

Imperial Market – Next Day

A small fire broke out at a vendor stall. Minor chaos. Two servants trampled.

Coincidentally, Shen Lianhua was passing through with her attendants.

And one cart—just one—collapsed in front of her path, its axle mysteriously splintering.

She stepped back instinctively… and a blade glinted beneath the pile of fruit.

It never reached her.

A blur of motion.

Li Shenzhao appeared, grabbing the would-be assassin by the wrist and flipping him into the dirt before he could blink.

The crowd gasped.

Guards flooded the street.

The man—unmarked, nameless—bit down on something hidden in his mouth and collapsed, foaming.

Poison.

Suicide.

Palace Interrogation Chamber – That Night

“I want names,” Shenzhao ordered the captain.

The guard bowed. “Nothing. No seal. No clan mark. Just one phrase tattooed into his shoulder.”

He passed the scroll over.

Lianhua read it aloud:

“The plum blossom falls where blood once flowed.”

She recognized the wording.

Zhou Mei’s favorite style.

Shen Lianhua returned to her quarters, her hands calm, her breath steady. But inside, something dark stirred.

“You tried to kill me once,” she whispered. “You think you can do it again?”

She walked to her desk and began writing—one name, one offense, one plan at a time.

Because now, it was personal.

And this time, the green tea wouldn’t just crack—
It would shatter.