We tried everything.
Every technique we could think of. Every theory anyone whispered, scribbled, or suggested with a grimace.
Spells. Pressure points. Chants that sounded vaguely cursed. Incense that gave Lianshui a headache. Even a deeply questionable herb Wei Wuxian claimed would "loosen soul tension" but really just made us mildly high and very unproductive.
We tried isolating the connection. Strengthening it. Weakening it.
Lan Wangji even constructed a cleansing array around our bed without a word, then stepped back and waited like sacred geometry might politely ask me to reclaim my body.
It did not work.
None of it did.
I was still stuck.
Still thinking. Still here. Still me, just... watching. Unable to move unless Lianshui allowed it.
One afternoon, we were all gathered again. I sat in spiritual purgatory while the others arranged themselves like they were planning a seasonal banquet instead of a body reclamation.
Wei Wuxian, lounging as always with that familiar glint in his eye that meant disaster was about to be suggested, suddenly perked up.
"Okay, hear me out," he said, fingers steepled under his chin. "What if... we try beating Shen Kexian again?"
The room fell silent.
Lan Wangji blinked once. Which, in his language, translated to "I strongly disapprove but will not stop you unless someone dies."
"Not fatally," Wei Wuxian added quickly, grinning. "Just enough to get him bleeding and spiritually rattled. You know, recreate the array conditions when Mei Lin's healing activated. Maybe that spike will trigger her control again."
He looked very proud of himself, like he had just solved ghost math on a napkin.
Shen Kexian raised an eyebrow and looked vaguely uncomfortable.
And Ming Yu, sweet and perpetually indignant Ming Yu, immediately volunteered like this was his divine duty.
"I'll do it," he said, already rolling up his sleeves.
Oh, for the love of gods.
Before I could mentally scream, Lianshui stepped in with her usual gentle poise.
"Your Highness," she said kindly, "please don't hurt him."
I facepalmed so hard inside my own head.
When everything failed, every spell, every scroll, every vaguely spiritual head-tilt Lan Wangji attempted. The only thing left to do was rest.
We need a mental day, I told Lianshui inside our shared headspace. Just one day where we don't try to fix anything.
There was a pause. I could feel her hesitation.
What do you think about shopping? I added. You know, fabric, snacks, street chaos. Low-stakes civilian life.
She agreed. Out loud, of course. "Yes. A day to rest would be good."
We decided to drag Yuling with us.
But when we walked into her room without knocking. It was a classic mistake because she wasn't alone.
Yuling was seated by the window, posture relaxed but eyes just a little too bright to be casual. Across from her, pouring tea with the kind of delicacy that only came from a lifetime of palace training, was a man dressed in a eunuch's uniform.
The eunuch.
The mysterious one.
She stood up quickly when she saw us, cheeks going just slightly pink as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to play it off like she hadn't just been caught mid-soft-eyes.
"Oh, Mei Lin" she said, a little breathless. "Um… you haven't met yet, have you?"
She gestured toward him awkwardly. "This is Ruan Zexi."
He stood immediately and bowed with quiet grace, composed down to his fingertips.
"Goddess of Water," he said with a soft, precise voice that honestly made me want to either adopt him or throw him into a palace drama.
Because gods help me, he gave off the exact energy of a K-pop maknae. All innocent eyes, awkward sweetness, and "very cute cat" energy. Adorable. Deadly. Probably had a fan club of palace maids and no idea.
Lianshui stepped forward with her usual calm poise.
"Nice to meet you, Eunuch Ruan," she said. Then, to my absolute horror, added, "Consort Jing…"
Lianshui, no. NO. Abort. I never call her that.
Even Yuling tilted her head slightly, her smile faltering in confusion.
Lianshui blinked, recovered. "Yuling," she corrected gently, her smile returning. "Would you like to go shopping with me?"
Yuling glanced at Ruan Zexi for just a moment. It wasn't long, but it said everything.
Then she nodded. "Yes. That sounds… great."
Lianshui, I whispered, Invite him too. Please. For science.
She hesitated, just briefly.
Then, with perfect sweetness, she turned to him. "Eunuch Ruan, would you care to join us?"
He looked at Yuling. She didn't say a word. But she didn't have to.
He smiled. "I'd be happy to."
And just like that, our quiet little escape turned into a market stroll featuring awkward flirting, ancient soul possession, and enough romantic subtext to qualify as a slow-burn drama arc.
We changed into commoner attire before we left the palace. Nothing flashy, just plain robes in soft linen tones, loose enough to move in, forgettable enough to blend in.
Ruan Zexi walked a careful step behind us. Not too close. Not too far. Just enough to stay alert without intruding. He didn't say much, but his presence was solid and constant, like a silent guardian who had somehow memorized Yuling's entire pace and breathing pattern.
She kept sneaking glances at him like she didn't want to be caught smiling. Which, of course, made her smile more.
Lianshui, I whispered in her mind, I think we're the third wheel.
She turned her head slightly, lips curving just enough for him not to notice. Then whispered back, "Yes."
We strolled past stalls selling embroidered fans, paper lanterns, roasted chestnuts, plum cakes, and strings of dried oranges. The market buzzed with life. Laughter. Spice in the air. Voices haggling over silk and salted fish.
We stopped by a quiet tea shop nestled at the edge of the market. The kind with chipped porcelain, sun-warmed benches, and the smell of dried chrysanthemum hanging in the air.
We had barely sat down when an older woman appeared from behind the counter. She moved slowly, her hands weathered, her gaze sharp with recognition. She stared a little too long, then walked over, eyes fixed on Lianshui.
She stopped at our table and hesitated, bowing just slightly, then spoke.
"Forgive me, but... are you the Goddess of Water?"
Oh wow. So much for blending in.
Lianshui stiffened.
Our disguise was apparently not winning any awards today. I groaned internally. I spoke directly to her through our link. Guess the plain robes weren't enough, huh?
Lianshui straightened politely and gave the woman a gentle nod.
"Yes."
Before anything else could unfold, Ruan Zexi stepped in, his voice low and composed.
"We would appreciate not being disturbed. She is here to rest."
The old woman smiled, unbothered. She kept her eyes on Lianshui and said, "I understand. I only wanted to thank you."
She reached into the folds of her robe and brought out a neatly wrapped bundle of silk and a small, delicately embroidered scented pouch.
"You saved my son," she said softly. "During the battle. He was one of the soldiers. He remembered the hairpin you wore."
Her eyes dropped to the side of my head. Lianshui followed her gaze.
The hairpin.
The one with delicate silver waves wrapped around sapphire stones that shimmered like captured raindrops. The one Ming Yu gave me. I'd worn it ever since. Without fail. Without thought. And now, it had identified us.
Guilt and something gentler swirled in my chest because I hadn't even known who I'd saved. I was just doing what I could. But to her, it had meant everything.
"I don't have much," the woman continued, holding out the silk-wrapped gift. "But please accept this. It's all I could offer."
Lianshui accepted the gifts with both hands, bowing her head with grace.
"Thank you," she said. "This means a great deal."
Her face softened. A flicker of peace. And then she turned and disappeared into the little shop without another word. Yuling reached for her teacup, watching Lianshui with a knowing smile.
"Well," she said, "you seem very popular these days."
Lianshui looked down, just slightly, her fingers brushing the edge of the silk wrapping.
Then she smiled. Soft. Shy. Almost bashful.
We bought a few things before heading back to the palace. Silk ribbons, sweet cakes, a hair comb I absolutely did not need but insisted we buy anyway because it had a little carved lotus that reminded me of Lianshui.
The sun had begun to dip by the time we passed back through the palace gates. The market's clamor faded behind us, giving way to the gentler rhythm of evening life. The air was cooler now, touched with jasmine and cooking smoke, and the stone paths glowed faintly gold under the last stretch of light.
As we walked, I leaned into the bond.
Lianshui, I whispered, you should tell Yuling that Ruan Zexi is cute and she should just go for it.
She hesitated. Just a flicker of resistance. I felt it settle behind her ribs like a held breath. But then she obeyed. She turned to Yuling, her voice calm, a little careful.
"Ruan Zexi is very cute. You should just go for it."
Yuling stopped in her tracks. Froze mid-step. Her fan clattered closed in her hand as her face turned a vivid shade of red. Knowing that these were not Lianshui's words.
"Mei Lin," she gasped, eyes wide. "You are unbelievable."
Which, to be fair, was entirely accurate.
But then she laughed. A quick, startled burst of it that spilled into the courtyard like a splash of water. And so did we.
Even Ruan Zexi, trailing silently behind us with all the solemn grace of a palace eunuch, cracked a smile. He kept his gaze fixed politely ahead, but we caught the slight curve at the corner of his mouth. A silent admission.
It was one of those small, perfect moments that lived quietly inside you after everything else had gone.
Later that night, after the silk had been folded away and the evening laughter settled into the hushed stillness of palace halls, Lianshui sat at the edge of the bed with the little scented pouch in her hands. She turned it over once, fingers tracing the embroidery, then brought it to her nose and inhaled.
"This smells nice," she said softly.
The words were simple. Honest.
She set the pouch gently on the table beside the bed, like it belonged there.
And then we slept.
But when we woke, we were no longer in our bed.