Xia Yiren's POV
Get me out of this cell.
Yijun's eyes snap to mine. What?
You said someone else remembers the future. Someone who's changing the timeline. I grip the bars between us. That means they know I'm locked up right now. They know exactly where I am and that I can't fight back. We're sitting ducks.
Through the bond, his understanding flashes. You think they'll try to kill you here. Make it look like suicide.
It's what I would do. My hands shake on the cold iron. If I wanted to eliminate someone who knew too much, I'd do it while they're already imprisoned. Easy. Clean. Everyone would believe it.
His jaw clenches. Through the bond, I feel his decision crystallizing. Then we're leaving. Now.
You can't just
I'm the Crown Prince. His voice turns to steel. I can do whatever I want.
He strides to the cell door and barks at the guards outside. Open it.
Your Highness, the Empress Dowager ordered
I don't care what she ordered. Open this door or I'll have you thrown in here instead.
The guards exchange nervous glances. But Yijun's authority wins. The lock clicks open.
He grabs my hand and pulls me out. Through the bond, his determination burns fierce and bright. He's done playing by their rules.
Where are we going? I ask as he leads me through corridors at a near-run.
Somewhere we can talk without being overheard.
We don't go to his chambers or mine. Instead, he takes me to a small meditation garden I've never seen before, hidden behind the imperial library. It's tiny, overgrown, clearly forgotten by palace staff.
My mother used to bring me here, he says quietly. Before she died. No one else knows about it.
Safe. Or as safe as anywhere in this palace can be.
He turns to face me, and through the bond, I feel the weight of everything crashing down on him. The nightmare he experienced. The knowledge that he kills me. The growing certainty that we're trapped in something bigger than either of us understands.
Tell me everything, he demands. Every detail. Every person involved. Every step of how they framed you. I need to know exactly what we're fighting.
So I tell him.
I tell him about Ling Meihua befriending me, gaining my trust over months of tea ceremonies and gentle conversations. How she learned my routines, my handwriting, my closest servants.
I tell him about the Empress Dowager's birthday celebration where the poisoning happened. How Meihua arranged for me to prepare the Dowager's tea as a special honor. How she must have switched the cups, adding poison to the one served.
I tell him about waking up to guards in my chambers, finding poison vials hidden in my jewelry box. About the forged letters with my seal, promising military secrets to the Northern Kingdom. About servants who swore they saw me meeting with foreign agents.
It was perfect, I say bitterly. Every piece of evidence pointed to me. And when I was arrested, Meihua cried and said she couldn't believe her dear friend would do such a thing. She played the heartbroken confidante beautifully.
Through the bond, Yijun's fury builds with every word. And Minister Zhao?
He led the investigation. Found every piece of evidence right when he needed it. Pushed for immediate execution before you could dig too deep. I meet his eyes. He wanted me dead because the soul bond made you 'weak.' Distracted you from duty. Your grandmother agreed.
His face goes pale. She really approved it. My own grandmother.
She thought she was protecting the empire. The words taste like ash. And you... you tried to investigate privately. Tried to find proof of my innocence. But the frame was too perfect. When the Imperial Council demanded my execution and threatened civil war if you appeared weak by defending a traitor... I trail off.
I chose the empire over you, he finishes, his voice hollow. Signed your death warrant to prevent chaos.
You told yourself it was duty. That you had no choice. Through the bond, I feel his self-loathing spike. But the truth is, you didn't fight hard enough. You let them pressure you into murdering your own soul-bonded mate.
He flinches like I've struck him. I'm sorry. God, Yiren, I'm so sorry
Your apologies won't save me this time. I cut him off. We need a plan. We need evidence. We need to stop them before
Before what? A new voice cuts through the garden.
We both spin.
Minister Zhao steps out from behind an overgrown hedge, his face cold and calculating. Behind him, six palace guards with drawn swords.
My heart stops.
Through the bond, Yijun's shock mirrors mine. How long has Zhao been listening? How much did he hear?
Your Highness, Zhao says with false courtesy. I've been searching for you. The Empress Dowager is quite displeased that you released the prisoner without authorization.
Imperial Consort Xia is not a prisoner, Yijun says coldly. She's my soul-bonded mate and under my protection.
Even when she's accused of attempted murder? Zhao's smile doesn't reach his eyes. How noble. But I'm afraid I must insist she return to her cell until the investigation is complete.
No.
Your Highness, I don't think you understand the severity
I understand perfectly. Yijun's hand moves to his sword. You're trying to frame an innocent woman. And I won't allow it.
Through the bond, I feel his readiness to fight. He'll actually draw his sword against the Minister if needed.
But Zhao just smiles wider. Frame her? Your Highness, the evidence speaks for itself. Poison in her chambers. Witnesses to her guilt. And now He pulls out a scroll, a confession from her servant Lianhua, detailing how Imperial Consort Xia ordered her to deliver poisoned tea to Lady Ling.
That's a lie, I spit. Lianhua would never
Lianhua is dead, Zhao says calmly. Suicide by poison. But she left this confession before she died.
The world tilts.
Lianhua. Dead. Just like in my first life, they've eliminated the witnesses who could expose the truth.
How convenient, Yijun snarls. Every piece of evidence appears exactly when you need it. Every witness dies before they can be questioned properly. You expect me to believe this is legitimate?
I expect you to follow the law. Zhao's voice hardens. The Imperial Council has reviewed the evidence. They've voted to proceed with a formal trial. If you interfere, Your Highness, you'll be charged with obstruction of justice.
Through the bond, I feel Yijun's rage hitting a breaking point. He's about to do something reckless, something that will doom us both.
I grab his arm. Don't. This is exactly what they want—for you to look compromised, blinded by the soul bond, unfit to rule.
I don't care
You should. Minister Zhao's smile turns predatory. Because there's more. We found something else in Imperial Consort Xia's chambers during our search. Something quite disturbing.
He pulls out another scroll and unrolls it.
My blood runs cold.
It's a detailed timeline. Written in my own handwriting. Listing every major event from my first life—the Dowager's poisoning, my execution, Yijun's death. Names. Dates. Specific details no one should know.
I never wrote that. Never put any of it on paper.
But someone created it. Someone who knew exactly what to forge to make me look insane.
Your consort appears to be suffering from delusions, Zhao says smoothly. She believes she's from the future. That she's lived through these events before. She's even convinced herself that you'll kill her, Your Highness. He shakes his head with false sympathy. Clearly the soul bond has damaged her mind. Such a tragedy.
Through the bond, Yijun's horror crashes through both of us.
Because this is the perfect trap. If we claim the timeline is real, we sound insane. If we deny it, we have no explanation for why it exists in my handwriting.
Either way, I look guilty. Unstable. Dangerous.
The Imperial Council has ordered Imperial Consort Xia to be transferred to the isolation chambers, Zhao continues. For her own safety and the safety of others, until her trial in three days.
Three days. The same timeline as before.
And if the trial finds her guilty? Yijun asks, his voice deadly quiet.
Then justice will be served. Zhao meets his eyes. The sentence for attempted murder of a high-ranking noble is death. By execution.
I can't breathe. It's happening again. Exactly as I feared. They've adjusted their tactics, but the ending is the same.
In three days, I'll be standing on that execution block again.
Unless, Zhao adds thoughtfully, Imperial Consort Xia cooperates with the investigation. Confesses her crimes. Shows remorse for her actions. Then perhaps the Council might consider mercy. Life imprisonment instead of death.
He wants a confession. Wants me to admit guilt publicly so there's no question, no room for doubt.
Just like before.
Never, I say.
Pity. Zhao nods to his guards. Take her to isolation.
Yijun draws his sword. Touch her and die.
The guards hesitate. But Zhao remains calm.
Your Highness, think carefully. If you fight imperial guards to protect a confessed traitor, you'll be removed from succession. Your uncle Prince Kai will become Crown Prince instead. His smile is poison. Is that what you want? To throw away the empire for one woman?
Through the bond, I feel Yijun's agony. The same choice as before. Me or the empire.
Go with them, I whisper.
No
You have to. I meet his eyes. If you're removed from power, you can't protect anyone. Play along. Let them think they've won. Then find the real evidence while they're focused on my trial.
Through the bond, his anguish tears through both of us. He doesn't want to let me go. Doesn't want to choose duty over me again.
But he knows I'm right.
Three days, he says, his voice breaking. I have three days to prove your innocence.
Then you'd better start looking.
The guards grab my arms. This time, Yijun doesn't stop them.
As they drag me away, I catch one last glimpse of his face. Devastated. Furious. Determined.
Through the bond, one final thought from him:
I won't fail you again. I swear it.
But as the isolation chamber door slams shut, leaving me in complete darkness, I can't help thinking:
That's exactly what he said last time.
And I still died.
Hours pass in the dark. Or maybe days. Time doesn't exist in isolation.
Through the bond, I feel Yijun tearing apart the palace searching for evidence. Feel his growing desperation as he finds nothing.
They've been too careful this time.
I'm curled in the corner of my cell when I hear it.
Footsteps. Too soft to be guards.
A key turns in my lock.
The door opens, spilling torchlight into my darkness.
A figure steps inside. Female. Small. Familiar.
Ling Meihua.
But she should be dying from poison. Should be in the medical chambers fighting for her life.
Instead, she stands before me perfectly healthy, smiling that sweet, gentle smile I remember so well.
Hello, Yiren, she says softly. We need to talk. About the future. About how many times we've done this. And about why, no matter what you try, you always lose.
She steps closer, and in the torchlight, I see it.
A mark on her wrist. Phoenix and dragon intertwined.
A soul bond mark.
But not to Yijun.
To someone else.
Who— I start.
You're not the only one who remembers, she says. But you are the only one stupid enough to think you can change fate. I've lived through this seventeen times, Yiren. Seventeen different ways of watching you die. And every single time... Her smile widens. I'm the one who makes sure it happens.