The palace bells rang again at dawn, long and solemn, echoing through the capital like a summons from fate itself.
Xiao Shui stood before the bronze mirror while her maid, Qingzhi, carefully fastened a jade hairpin into her hair. The reflection staring back at her was young, untouched by betrayal, her eyes still clear.
But only she knew the truth.
Three days.
In her previous life, these three days had been filled with anticipation, foolish hope, and quiet prayers. She had rehearsed her smiles, memorized court etiquette, and dreamed of becoming Prince Yang's consort.
And walked straight into her grave.
"Miss," Qingzhi said softly, excitement barely contained, "the other noble ladies are already preparing their silk gowns. They say Prince Yang himself will preside over the first selection."
Prince Yang.
The name struck like ice against her spine.
Xiao Shui slowly raised her hand. "Qingzhi."
"Yes, Miss?"
"Bring me my father's seal."
Qingzhi froze. "Th-the clan seal?"
Xiao Shui nodded. "Immediately."
Moments later, the heavy jade seal was placed into her palm. It was cool, engraved with the Xiao clan insignia. In her last life, this seal had been used to pledge loyalty to Prince Yang's faction.
This time, it would do the opposite.
She dipped the brush into ink and wrote swiftly, her movements precise, unhesitating.
A formal petition.
Withdrawal from the imperial selection.
Reason: filial piety. Poor health. Devotion to family.
Excuses that sounded weak.
But excuses the palace could not publicly reject.
Qingzhi's face drained of color as she read the document. "Miss… if you withdraw now, the court will remember this. Prince Yang—"
"Will remember," Xiao Shui finished calmly.
That was exactly what she wanted.
She pressed the jade seal down.
Thud.
The mark bloomed crimson on the paper, irreversible.
"Send it," she said. "Directly to the Ministry of Rites."
Qingzhi hesitated, then bowed deeply. "Yes, Miss."
When the doors closed, Xiao Shui exhaled slowly.
In her previous life, she had chased Prince Yang.
Now, she would make him chase shadows.
—
The Ministry of Rites erupted into chaos before noon.
"What do you mean Xiao Shui withdrew?"
Prince Yang stood in the center of the hall, his expression unreadable, fingers tightening around the scroll. His attendants exchanged uneasy glances.
"She… declined?" he repeated.
The minister bowed, sweat beading on his forehead. "Her petition was flawless, Your Highness. No breach of etiquette. No defiance. We cannot reject it."
Prince Yang's gaze darkened.
Xiao Shui.
The woman who had once watched him with quiet devotion. The one who had never refused anything.
Why now?
He folded the scroll slowly. "Interesting."
—
Back at the Xiao residence, Xiao Shui sat calmly as her father paced the study.
"Are you out of your mind?" Minister Xiao demanded, voice low but furious. "Do you know how many families would kill for this opportunity?"
"I know," Xiao Shui replied evenly. "That is why it is dangerous."
Her father stopped. "Dangerous?"
She met his eyes. "Father, if I enter the palace, our family will be dragged into factional warfare. We will lose."
Minister Xiao stared at her, stunned by the certainty in her voice.
Before he could respond, a servant rushed in, panic written across his face.
"Master! Miss! A decree from Prince Yang's residence!"
Xiao Shui's fingers curled slightly.
In her last life, Prince Yang never came this early.
The servant swallowed. "Prince Yang… requests Miss Xiao's presence."
Not summons.
A request.
Xiao Shui rose slowly, lips curving into a faint smile that held no warmth.
"So soon?" she murmured.
She had withdrawn from the selection.
And already, the prince could no longer sit still.