Zhen Hua seethed, humiliated by the fact that Long Fei seriously injured her. She had expected only mild resistance. Her usual smile and explanation should have been enough. Not Long Fei going berserk on her without hesitation. He had shown her no mercy. At least he was no longer indifferent to her. Hatred is better than indifference.
Pain still burned in her chest where his final blow had landed. Even now, the Phoenix flames that should have healed her had drained her strength significantly. The fight had cost her and Long Yan dearly.
Yet, unlike Long Fei, she had prepared for this moment. Standing before the Divine Portal, she accepted the delicate jade vial of Amnesia Elixir from the portal keeper. The liquid shimmered, colorless yet potent—the drink that would sever her celestial memories, binding her to the mortal incarnation cycle.
She twirled the vial between her fingers, watching the light refract off the surface. Long Fei, the righteous immortal, a stickler for the Celestial rules, would be obligated to drink it. But she? She had no intention of forgetting.
As the portal keeper turned away to open the portal, Zhen Hua channeled a wisp of qi through her fingertips, evaporating the elixir in an instant. When he turned back, she tilted the empty vial towards him with a sweet smile.
His face flushed as he nodded, stepped aside, bowed, and gestured her to proceed. The portal flared to life.
With one final breath, Zhen Hua stepped through the portal.
***
The world went dark, and then the first thing she felt was the light weight of tiny limbs, of weakness, of being trapped in an infant's body. It was suffocating.
Yet, as the midwives cooed over her newborn form, she learned where fate had placed her.
She was born into the House of Zhen, one of the wealthiest aristocratic families in a kingdom known for its vast power and unshakable imperial authority. Fate had been merciful towards her after all.
By the time she could walk, Zhen Hua had already begun shaping her destiny.
She was a rare beauty, with the face of a celestial maiden and fingers made for the zither and calligraphy. She never needed to struggle as every skill came effortlessly, retained from lifetimes past. She had to pretend to struggle at a pace according to her human years to not terrify people with her rare talent. By the time she turned sixteen, her name had spread far beyond the imperial capital; she became a muse for poetry and song.
Scholars praised her intellect, noblewomen envied her grace, and court officials whispered of her brilliance.
But Zhen Hua did not seek admiration. She sought control.
***
When the Crown Prince's selection for a bride was announced, Zhen Hua stepped into the battlefield that was the Imperial Palace. She wove her way through banquets and court gatherings, her words honeyed, her every glance a subtle allure.
The Crown Prince, Xuan Zhao, was a man of ambition, a skilled warrior, and a tactician. Zhen Hua was a woman unlike any other, a once-in-a-millenia beauty. It took little effort to ensnare him. She easily passed all the tests to be the Crown Princess.
She was the epitome of a virtuous and talented beauty. She played her role to perfection, whispering support when he hesitated, bolstering his confidence when he faltered. He believed in her, loved her, and above all, trusted her.
When the reigning Emperor fell ill, the court descended into chaos. Factions warred in secret, ministers plotted, and Xuan Zhao's enemies bared their fangs.
But Zhen Hua had already woven her web.
Rival princes were disgraced.
Generals were swayed.
Corrupt officials were exposed at the perfect time.
When the Emperor finally took his last breath, no opposition was left standing.
Xuan Zhao ascended the throne.
And his first decree was to name Zhen Hua his Empress.
***
The coronation of Empress Zhen Hua was a legendary spectacle. The Imperial Palace was draped in crimson silk embroidered with golden phoenixes. She walked beside her Emperor, her smile serene. The court praised her as a divine blessing, a woman of wisdom and purity. She had won over the kingdom.
The Emperor adored her. Yet her heart remained fixated on Long Fei.
She governed the inner palace with an iron will, eliminating threats while maintaining her honorable reputation. The Empress Dowager, once a formidable force, was maneuvered into irrelevance. Ambitious concubines fell, guided into ruin by her surreptitious hands. The Imperial Palace was hers. One by one, scheming concubines, officials, and nobles fell like autumn leaves, secretly raked away by her unseen hand.
She reigned unchallenged, yet her ambitions remained unfulfilled. She had not come to the Mortal Realm to play an empress. She did all this to win over Long Fei, his reincarnation was out there. When she located him she would create a coup d'état and make Long Fei her lover and the new Emperor. Perhaps he had not yet descended, but she knew he would come. And when he did, she would be waiting.
***
One day, to secure her position she needed a son. The court would bow to her son, and through him, to her. With her bloodline on the throne, no one would be able to cast her aside.
The Imperial Physician confirmed it: she was expecting a son. The court rejoiced. The Emperor beamed with pride. But Zhen Hua slowly traced circles over her womb, her thoughts drifting to an immortal who was not the father of this child. It did not matter. Mortal struggles are but fleeting echoes to immortals.
One day, she would find Long Fei in the Mortal Realm. He would see her standing at the pinnacle of power, untouchable, undeniable. Every step, every calculated move, had led to this empire. She had become an Empress not for glory but for him.
When he finally meets her, he would have no memories of their past altercation and would fall in love with her. No matter how long it took, he would finally be hers. No god, no law, no cycle of rebirth could keep him from her.