If the fragrance drifting through the breeze comes from a flower whose roots are soaked in poison… then its beauty is no different from a trap, waiting for prey to arrive.
⸻
The next morning, just as the sun peeked over the horizon,
Xianyan Palace was as quiet as ever.
Yet within its stillness—the counterattack had already begun.
Xianlan sat before an old herbal manuscript,
beside her was the recipe for Jian Su Lan, the forbidden substance Wen Yichen had given her the night before.
On the table: tiny medicine vials and official palace-grade herb analysis tools.
"Jian Su Lan…" she murmured,
"…odorless, colorless, dissolves only in a base made from white plum blossoms."
At the same time, her plan began to spread—quietly—through the trusted court maids.
The gift box from Su Mengyu was not delivered to the imperial physicians as would be customary…
Instead, she had it sent to the Empress's palace.
Xianlan knew—
to topple a player on the board, one must use a higher hand.
⸻
In the Jingxin Palace of the Empress of Li Kingdom,
the regal but reserved queen opened the gift box with polite curiosity.
Inside was indeed imported makeup…
but when tested on a dried white plum petal, the petal faded unnaturally.
"Poison?" the Empress muttered.
A loyal eunuch knelt immediately, reporting softly,
"The same compound once found in the Consort Lin incident, seven years ago, Your Majesty…"
The Empress closed her eyes slowly.
"Mengyu… you play this game far too well."
⸻
That afternoon, in the rear imperial hall,
Emperor Li Sicheng summoned the court physicians and senior palace officials for an emergency meeting.
His tone was not loud, but it carried a weight that froze the air.
"Today, a gift nearly became a weapon in the heart of the palace.
Had Princess Xianlan not discovered it in time…
we may have needed to host foreign dignitaries for a funeral instead."
Tension filled the air.
Su Zhen, seated as Noble Consort, gripped her fan so tightly that her nails dug into her palm.
Beside her, the ever-smiling villainess named Su Mengyu maintained her innocent façade.
"I only wished to offer a token of goodwill…
I had no idea there was anything amiss with the cosmetics."
Xianlan stood, silent for a moment, before speaking evenly.
"If you didn't know—then you're a fool.
If you did know—then you're wicked.
But I know well…
that intelligence has never been something you lack."
The hall fell deathly silent.
Feng Yuhan, seated nearby, said nothing—
but gazed at her with gentle pride.
He knew… this was Xianlan, who would no longer let anyone tread upon her.
⸻
That night,
Su Mengyu stormed back to Luohua Palace.
She swept her arm across the table, shattering a porcelain vase to pieces.
"She dared make me a laughingstock in front of the entire court!" she screamed.
A eunuch tried to calm her, only to be thrown bodily from the room.
"Xianlan… you think this ends at Jingxin Palace?"
Her eyes burned cold.
"I won't just erase your name—
I'll wipe your entire existence from this palace."
⸻
Elsewhere,
in the pavilion by the pond at Xianyan Palace,
Feng Yuhan paid another quiet visit.
He sat beside her, setting down a small silk-wrapped box on the table.
"What's this?" Xianlan asked.
"The scent of a real flower…" he replied softly.
Inside was a small jade container holding fragrant oil from an ancient breed of plum blossom—rare and priceless.
Feng Yuhan continued:
"In this palace… you're always forced to smell like everyone else.
But I want you to have your own scent—
unaltered, unhidden.
Because to me… you've always smelled beautiful.
Even if it's the scent of blood from every battle you've fought."
Xianlan was silent, her eyes trembling just slightly.
She didn't respond with words—
only placed her hand gently atop the jade box.