Some flames don't need to flare to burn—only simmer quietly. And when the wind passes through, they're ready to ignite every lie into ashes.
⸻
The air after the rain was cool and damp, laced with the scent of fresh earth and plum blossoms drifting down from the northern breeze.
Xianlan walked silently through the imperial garden, her footsteps so light they seemed unwilling to disturb the stone paths beneath her.
Though the surroundings were tranquil, her heart beat like a war drum.
In her hands was the iron box she had retrieved from beneath the plum tree.
Inside still lay Yu Mei's letter… and her mother's worn white hair ribbon.
"I will no longer keep these things in the shadows."
The voice in her heart rang clear.
She stepped into the Qian Zhao Palace—
the very place her father, Emperor Li Sicheng, used for meditation and state deliberation.
⸻
Inside, the emperor sat alone.
No eunuchs, no officials.
His weathered face bore the wear of decades, but also a profound depth of reflection.
"Xiao Lan… you came alone?"
Xianlan bowed.
"Yes, Father. There is something… I wish to ask of you myself."
She approached and placed the iron box before him.
As she lifted the lid, the faint scent of rust and old parchment drifted into the air.
The emperor's eyes widened slightly as he picked up the letter.
When he reached the line—
"Consort Jing never intended harm"
his voice trembled.
"I… should have remembered the scent of her hair.
I should have known… she never lied."
The voice of a ruler long hardened by power now cracked with sorrow.
It had been years—perhaps decades—since anyone had heard such grief in their emperor's voice.
Xianlan remained silent.
She did not wish to accuse, nor demand—only that the man before her dared to accept.
"I will reopen the investigation… myself," the emperor said, his voice steady.
"If anyone was involved in the false order that day—
even someone beside me—I will not let them go unpunished."
⸻
That evening, news that the emperor would reopen the old case spread through the palace like wildfire.
The officials fell silent.
But among the concubines, unease stirred—especially within the Noble Consort's quarters.
Su Zhen hurled her teacup to the floor, shattering it.
The fan in her hand bent under the force of her fury.
"Lan'er! That wretched daughter of hers—
she dares provoke His Majesty into revisiting the matter?!"
Su Mengyu, who had been sitting quietly beside her, finally raised her head.
"If she uses fire to burn the past… then we shall use wind to blow smoke,
and turn people's eyes away from the truth."
⸻
That night, the palace became a breeding ground for rumor.
Yet, in a quiet corner of the western garden, Xianlan and Feng Yuhan sat side by side in a small pavilion.
No servants.
No titles.
Just a man and a woman, watching the moon ripple across still water.
"Are you tired?" Yuhan asked softly.
"No… though perhaps my heart feels a little sore," Xianlan replied with a faint smile.
The young man gazed at her face, searching its depths.
He was silent for a long moment, then spoke slowly.
"Back then… I was forced to become engaged to Su Mengyu.
I stayed silent… because I had no choice.
But canceling that engagement today—
that was not just for you… it was for myself.
I no longer want to walk the path someone else laid out for me."
Xianlan turned to face him, eyes glinting with complexity.
"You're not saying this just to win my sympathy, are you?"
Feng Yuhan gave a faint smile, but his eyes held only sincerity.
"If I wanted to win your heart, I'd say far more.
But if I want you to feel safe… then this is all I need to say."
A sudden breeze swept through.
Petals from the plum trees swirled gently around them—
And in that moment, silence spoke louder than any words.
⸻
Su Mengyu sat alone in her study, pen in hand.
She was writing a letter… to someone unnamed.
"Her shadow grows longer.
I will make people turn their backs on the 'light' she has become.
If she survives—
I fall."
Her eyes glinted with icy resolve.
Her lips curled into a faint, merciless smile.
"The game has begun.
This time… I won't play quietly anymore."