The palace awoke like a living predator, doors creaking open, guards taking their positions, lanterns flickering against the wet morning stone. Feng Lianhua stood in her chamber, her hands pressed over the small vial she had secured the night before. A single drop of the powder could alter a life, shift alliances, or erase a rival's advantage—but timing was everything.
She had observed Lady Xiu for days, noting every habit: the delicate flick of her wrist when drinking tea, the subtle way her attendants delivered messages, the moments when she was most unguarded. Every detail became a weapon in Lianhua's mind.
Today, the first move would be made.
The Poisoned Invitation
Breakfast was a silent battlefield. Lady Xiu seated herself with deliberate care, drawing attention to her elegance and status. Her attendants whispered, some out of envy, others out of fear. Feng Lianhua approached with her tray, smiling politely.
"You have chosen the jasmine tea," she said softly, placing the cup before Lady Xiu. "It is particularly fragrant this morning. Perhaps it will soothe your… tensions."
Lady Xiu's eyes narrowed. "You speak too freely, girl."
"Only as freely as one must," Lianhua replied, bowing her head lightly.
The subtle powder she had prepared the night before—so fine it would go unnoticed—had been dusted along the rim of Lady Xiu's tea cup. Not enough to harm, not yet, but enough to leave a trace invisible to the untrained eye.
Lady Xiu drank, unaware. Lianhua's pulse was steady. This was not murder, not yet—it was a signal. A quiet demonstration of power.
The Emperor's Shadow
Across the hall, Emperor Zhao Rui watched. His face betrayed nothing, but Lianhua felt the weight of his gaze as keenly as a blade at her throat. He was assessing, calculating, as always.
After breakfast, he rose and spoke to the assembly of consorts and attendants. "The palace thrives when intelligence guides action," he said smoothly, letting his words hang in the air like smoke. "Observe carefully. Today, a subtle mind may gain more than strength ever could."
Lianhua's lips curved imperceptibly. He spoke of her—though he did not name her. The game was starting, and she had already positioned her first pawn.
Li Xun's Guidance
Later that day, in the hidden corridor behind the eastern pavilion, Li Xun waited. "The palace notices you," he said, voice low. "Lady Xiu is not your only rival. Others watch. Others listen."
Feng Lianhua nodded, slipping the vial into the folds of her robe. "I am aware. That is why I move carefully. But today, she will know… not to underestimate me."
Li Xun's gaze lingered on her. For the first time, the unspoken tension between them shifted—not danger, not manipulation, but curiosity… perhaps something more.
"Be careful," he murmured. "The emperor is curious about you. Curiosity in the palace is both a gift and a trap."
"I will remember," she said softly, her mind already racing through her next moves.
The First Trap Set
By evening, the palace corridors were quiet. Lianhua moved with purpose, her small vial ready. She placed it carefully along the path Lady Xiu's attendants would take—so subtle that only an observant eye would notice.
It was a message: I see, I know, I am not to be ignored.
Later, she watched from the shadows as Lady Xiu's expression changed subtly. A slight hesitation. A flicker of doubt. And then whispers began to spread. Lianhua had won her first battle without a word, without confrontation.
Her pulse quickened—not from fear, but from exhilaration. The palace had recognized her cunning. Step by step, she would carve her place.
The Emperor's Warning
That night, Zhao Rui summoned her. Alone. In the private garden, lanterns casting flickering light across the stone paths, he approached her with measured steps.
"You move carefully," he said. His voice was smooth, almost approving. "But remember: the palace is never truly yours. Every action has consequence."
Lianhua bowed. "I understand, Your Majesty. I act only with awareness."
The emperor paused, eyes narrowing. "Awareness can be a weapon… or a curse. Do not mistake cunning for safety."
A thrill ran through her. The first direct attention from the emperor was both danger and opportunity. She had survived, and perhaps even impressed him—but she knew better than to trust his approval.