Chapter 4 – The First Strike
The silence in the Emperor's study was so taut that Yanyue could hear her own heartbeat.
Consort Liang glided into the room with the grace of a predator, her jeweled hairpins catching the lamplight. She stopped beside the Emperor's desk, bowing just low enough to observe etiquette—but her eyes never left Yanyue.
"I was walking by," she said with a lilting tone, "and I thought I heard voices. Imagine my surprise to find His Majesty… entertaining a maid at such an hour."
Zhao Wenzhi's gaze flicked to Yanyue. "Li Mei was delivering an urgent message. You may return to your chambers, Consort Liang."
The Consort's smile didn't falter, but her gaze sharpened like a blade. "Of course. But perhaps Your Majesty should be more careful. Not all servants are… trustworthy."
Yanyue kept her face blank, though her palms were damp. Consort Liang's words were a warning—and a threat.
The Emperor's voice turned cold. "Go."
She bowed again, her eyes lingering on Yanyue like a mark left by a knife, before gliding out of the study.
The moment the door closed, Zhao Wenzhi's jaw tightened. "She will ask questions. Be careful, Yanyue."
Yanyue swallowed hard. "If she suspects, I am as good as dead."
His eyes softened for a moment, then hardened again. "Then you must stay where I can protect you."
She almost laughed. "You mean keep me under watch."
His silence was answer enough.
Later that night, back in the dim servants' quarters, Yanyue couldn't sleep. Every creak of the wooden beams felt like footsteps, every whisper of wind like the hiss of a drawn blade.
Just before dawn, a folded piece of parchment was slipped under her door.
She hesitated before picking it up. The paper was thin and bore no seal, but the inked words inside made her blood run cold:
I know who you are. Meet me in the eastern garden at the second bell… if you wish to live.
Her first thought was Consort Liang. But the handwriting was unfamiliar—swift, sharp, almost masculine.
The second bell found her moving through the mist-laden gardens, the hem of her maid's robe damp from the dew. The eastern garden was a secluded place, where bamboo rustled and koi ponds lay still under the early light.
A shadow detached itself from a column.
It was not Consort Liang.
The man wore plain guard's armor, but his eyes were the striking gray of a winter storm. "Lady Li," he said, voice low, "your death six years ago was a lie. The Chancellor knows you're alive."
Her heart pounded. "Who are you?"
"An enemy of his," the man replied. "And perhaps an ally to you—if you're clever."
Before she could speak again, a loud voice rang from behind them:
"Seize her!"
Steel flashed in the morning mist. Palace guards poured into the garden, blades drawn.
The gray-eyed man grabbed her wrist. "Run!"
They darted down the winding paths, but the pounding of boots grew louder. Ahead, two more guards appeared, cutting off their escape.
The man cursed under his breath, pushing her behind him. "Stay down."
He moved with lethal precision, parrying one guard's strike and slashing another's spear shaft in half. The air rang with the clash of metal.
Yanyue's lungs burned. This was madness—if they caught her outside her post, she'd be executed without question.
The gray-eyed man struck down the last guard with the hilt of his sword, then shoved her toward a hidden gate in the garden wall.
"Go back to the Emperor," he ordered. "It's the only place the Chancellor won't dare touch you yet."
Her voice trembled. "And if the Emperor is the one who—"
The man's expression hardened. "Decide quickly, Lady Li. Or you won't live to decide at all."
She returned to the Emperor's study hours later, her hair mussed and her knees aching from kneeling in apology to the Chief Eunuch for her absence.
Zhao Wenzhi looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing instantly. "Where were you?"
"Cleaning," she lied, forcing her voice steady.
He rose and closed the distance between them in three steps. His fingers brushed a leaf from her sleeve, his gaze dark with suspicion. "You're lying."
She held his stare. "And if I am, Your Majesty? What will you do? Kill me?"
Something unreadable flickered across his face—anger, hurt, perhaps both.
Before he could answer, the doors burst open.
A messenger dropped to his knees. "Your Majesty—the Chancellor requests an urgent audience. He says it concerns a… threat to the stability of the Inner Palace."
Yanyue's blood turned to ice.
Cliffhanger: Zhao Wenzhi's gaze shifted to her, sharp as a blade. "Stay here. Do not move until I return."