The palace envoy arrived at dawn.
Clad in imperial gold and phoenix-red, her palanquin gleamed like fire beneath the rising sun. A procession of handmaidens and guards followed — a symbol of power and scrutiny.
Shen and Li Ren stood side by side as the noblewoman stepped out.
Graceful.
Cold.
Lady Zhao Yueyin.
Daughter of Duke Zhao. Fiancée of the Crown Prince.
And the first person to ever slap Shen across the face.
Ten years ago.
In a quiet corridor of the imperial academy, Shen had found her crying. He offered a handkerchief.
She slapped him.
"You're not supposed to be kind," she'd said. "You're supposed to be a ghost."
Back then, it was confusing.
Now… it made sense.
As she descended the steps, her eyes didn't meet Li Ren's.They locked straight onto Shen.
Not with hatred.Not with affection.But calculation.
"Li Shen," she said, voice smooth as jade. "The Emperor sends his blessings."
Shen bowed. "And his suspicions, I assume."
A ghost of a smile. "Naturally."
That evening, the three dined together.
The air was thick with unspoken truths.
Lady Yueyin twirled her wine cup. "The Emperor believes White Root needs more… noble oversight."
Li Ren stiffened. "Is that why you've come?"
"To observe. To advise. To ensure the Emperor's blood is not… diluted by rebel sentiment."
Her gaze lingered on Shen.
"Especially the blood that shouldn't exist."
Later that night, Shen found her alone in the temple courtyard, lighting a lantern.
He approached. "You didn't come to observe. You came to test me."
She didn't deny it.
"You're dangerous," she said. "And you scare the Emperor."
"Do I scare you?"
She turned slowly.
"No. You intrigue me."
She stepped closer.
Their faces inches apart.
"I know what you really are," she whispered. "And if you plan to destroy the empire… I want to know whether to stop you…"
"…or help you."