A dull ache throbbed at the base of Zhao Ming's skull.
'Oh, my head...'
She hadn't yet opened her eyes when the sound reached her. Soft, broken sobbing. A girl's voice, barely holding itself together.
"Young Madam... please wake up. Please."
Zhao Ming lay still, listening.
'Young Madam?' Her brow furrowed beneath the darkness. 'Who is crying? Who are they mourning for?'
For a fleeting moment, she wondered if this was the afterlife. People said that after death, you went to heaven or hell. But which was this? And who would weep so miserably for her?
'Did I really die? Or is this a dream?'
No. It couldn't be a dream.
Because the memory of her death was still vivid. Still cold. Still achingly real.
.....
She was Zhao Ming. Daughter of Zhao Bai, the esteemed military doctor and trusted physician to the old Emperor. A family that had served their country for generations without complaint, without hesitation.
Their reward had been betrayal. Public humiliation. A cruel end.
But before all of that, there had been love. Or what she had believed was love.
She had been young, no more than a girl, the first time she saw Ji Cheng. It was in the old Emperor's chamber, and she had come with her father, small and unnoticed at his side. And then Ji Cheng had walked in.
She didn't remember what was said that day. She only remembered the way her heart had lurched, sudden and without warning.
It was the beginning of everything. And the beginning of her undoing.
Their marriage had been arranged by the old Emperor himself, a dying man's wish born out of deep trust for her father. For Ji Cheng, it was an obligation. For Zhao Ming, it was everything.
Their wedding night told her how little that mattered.
He had come to her chamber late, long after the candles burned low. She remembered his eyes first, bloodshot and unfocused, as if he was looking at her but not seeing her at all.
There were no words. No gentleness. Nothing made her feel like a wife.
She had been too young, too sheltered to understand. She folded that night away somewhere deep and told herself things would be different when he returned.
By morning, he had left for war. And Zhao Ming was left alone in the vast, echoing palace. Newly married, already abandoned.
They never were different.
.....
The Empress Dowager had made her feelings clear from the very first day.
"So what if you're a military doctor's daughter," she had said, voice smooth and unhurried. "Just because the old Emperor arranged this marriage, don't think you can do as you please."
A pause, deliberate and cutting. "You're not even from a noble family. Know your limits. You may carry the title of Empress, but don't forget what you actually are."
She had said it all with a pleasant expression. That was almost the worst part.
Zhao Ming had bowed her head, swallowed everything, and walked out with her back straight.
The servants had heard. They always heard.
Ji Cheng's new consort, Xiao Li, a princess from another kingdom, arrived not long after. Celebrated. Pampered. Welcomed with warmth, Zhao Ming had quietly stopped hoping for herself.
She wore her title like armor and waited. Told herself love would find its way to her if she was patient enough.
It never did.
.....
The end came on a quiet night, beside a pond.
She had gone there alone, the way she often did when the palace walls felt too close. She never heard anyone approach.
One moment, she was standing at the water's edge. The next, a sharp force from behind, and the cold swallowed her whole.
She knew how to swim. And yet her limbs wouldn't listen. Her body felt heavy, dragged down by something she couldn't name.
Her last thought was of Ji Cheng's face. Not the cold, distant one she had grown used to, but the one she had always hoped to see. Warm. Looking at her like she mattered.
It never came.
The cold took her instead.
Upon awakening, the memories hit all at once, leaving a dull ache in her chest that had nothing to do with the throbbing in her skull.
Who had hated her so deeply? She had wronged no one. She had only loved, and endured, and hoped. And in the end, it had cost her everything.
She didn't even know who her enemies were.
But whatever awaited her now, at least it was not that palace. That suffocating place that had slowly drained every last drop of joy from her.
Beyond its walls, even the unknown felt like breathing again.