The summons arrived at noon.
A sealed message bearing the Ling clan's insignia was delivered to the inner Palace, requesting a formal martial evaluation—an extension of the "test" proposed days earlier. The wording was polite, respectful, unquestionable.
Too proper.
Xin Ying read the message once, then again.
This isn't a test, she thought. This is a trap.
"They want to evaluate your readiness," Li Hua said quietly, seated across from her. "In front of the court."
Xin Ying lowered her gaze. "They want to see if I fail."
Li Hua's fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "Or if you die."
Xin Ying met her eyes. "Then allow me to attend."
"No." Li Hua stood abruptly. "I will not place you in danger to appease them."
Xin Ying rose as well. "If I refuse, they will move in the dark instead."
Silence stretched between them.
Li Hua exhaled slowly. "You sound certain."
"I've seen this pattern before," Xin Ying replied. In the story, she added silently.
Li Hua studied her—then nodded once.
"I will be watching," she said. "Every breath."
The outer training ground was crowded.
Officials, clan representatives, and guards ringed the stone arena. Ling Zhihao stood at the front, calm and composed.
"Today is merely a continuation of our previous assessment," he announced. "For the reassurance of the court."
Xin Ying stepped forward.
Her senses sharpened immediately.
Too many guards. Too many unfamiliar faces.
Li Hua watched from the raised platform, her expression unreadable—but her eyes never left Xin Ying.
"Begin," Ling Zhihao said.
The first opponent advanced.
Xin Ying disarmed him in three moves.
The second fell faster.
The third hesitated—then suddenly switched weapons, drawing a sharpened blade instead of practice steel.
Gasps erupted.
"That is not regulation!" Wang Tianhua shouted.
Ling Zhihao raised a hand. "A mistake. Continue."
Xin Ying did not believe him.
She moved carefully now, listening for the shift of cloth, the scrape of stone.
Then she heard it—
A signal whistle.
From the crowd.
Xin Ying twisted just as another attacker lunged from behind, blade aimed not at her—but toward the platform.
The Empress.
Xin Ying reacted instantly, throwing herself into the path.
Steel bit into her shoulder.
Pain flared—but she stayed upright, blade knocking the attacker down.
Chaos erupted.
Guards surged forward. Shouts rang through the air.
"Seal the gates!" Li Yuetong ordered.
Ling Zhihao stood very still.
Too still.
Xin Ying turned slowly toward him.
"This was never a test," she said quietly.
Ling Zhihao met her gaze and smiled faintly. "You passed."
Later, in the Empress's private chambers, the room was hushed.
Xin Ying knelt as the physician bound her shoulder.
"You shouldn't have done that," Li Hua said, her voice tight.
"I chose to," Xin Ying replied.
The physician finished and withdrew.
Silence followed.
Li Hua stepped closer. "Every time they move, you are the one bleeding."
Xin Ying looked up. "Every time they move, you are alive."
Li Hua's composure cracked.
She reached out—then hesitated—before resting her hand gently on Xin Ying's uninjured arm.
"I was afraid," Li Hua admitted quietly. "Not as an Empress. As myself."
Xin Ying's breath stilled.
"I don't know how this ends," Xin Ying said. "But I will stand with you."
Li Hua's hand tightened slightly.
"Then do not stand in front of me alone," she said. "Stand beside me."
For the first time, Xin Ying realized—
This was no longer duty.
It was trust.
And somewhere in the Palace, Ling Zhihao was already planning the next move.
---
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