Hot blood sprayed across Su Jing's face, her neck, her gown, draining her skin to bone-white. She stared at the still-warm body beside her for a few heartbeats, then smiled—a smile twisted and alien.
If you keep having the same nightmare, and no matter what you do you can't wake up, what do you do?
You destroy it. Then you become the ruler of your own world.
Dawn broke. And with it, everything changed.
Outside the palace walls, firelight danced and steel rang against steel.
Su Jing pushed the doors open and saw a familiar figure.
He wore battle armor, a sword in his right hand, and had carved a road of blood through the chaos to stand before her.
"Your Highness." His voice was warm. "I've come for you."
* * *
Wu Qi had never captured Shen Yuan at all. He had used memories from his past life to forge an identical jade pendant—and the bait was enough.
Shen Yuan, who had already turned the gate commander, returned to the camp outside the walls and found Su Jing gone. He infiltrated the city again under cover of night.
Wu Qi's palace guard was wiped out. The gates swung wide. Jia Xiche and the Southern Border King poured in with their combined forces, and by dawn, the capital had changed hands.
Wu Qi was dead. Every weathervane in court pivoted on cue—ministers who had sworn allegiance to the traitor dropped to their knees, hailing Jia Xiche as the new emperor.
As for Su Jing, Xiche announced that she was his sworn sister, bestowed her the title of Imperial Princess Cheng'an, and granted her a mansion in the most beautiful corner of the kingdom.
The injustice against the Shen clan was overturned. After years in darkness, the name was restored to the light.
Everything seemed to fall into place.
Until that day.
* * *
A Jin had come to deliver the former emperor's meal. As commander of the imperial guard, the task was beneath him—but today he was here on Jia Xiche's orders.
To kill the old man, quietly and without a trace.
The deposed emperor clung to life, scheming from his cell, stirring the court into chaos. He had to die.
The old emperor opened his clouded eyes. He had already guessed why. He looked down at A Jin and sneered.
"Has it ever occurred to you that my fate today will be your precious Xiche's fate tomorrow?"
"Your Majesty would do well to depart with dignity." A Jin's face was blank as marble. He drew a poisoned needle from his sleeve.
"Ha! I never imagined a common slave would be carrying on with a creature like that." The old emperor cackled. A Jin's composure cracked—the needle clattered to the floor.
"You think nobody knows? Your filthy little arrangement is practically common knowledge at court. Do you know what they call Xiche behind his back? Neither man nor woman. A freak. A deviant. Not even worth as much as a eunuch."
"One day, Xiche will end up just like me—no, worse. Reviled by all, a name people spit on for eternity!"
"Shut up!!!"
A Jin lost all reason. He drove his blade through the old emperor and ended it.
* * *
He was drenched in blood. The stench turned his stomach. He bathed, changed, and went to report.
"Your Majesty, this servant deserves death. The old emperor would not stop talking. I lost patience and used the blade."
"No matter. I'll arrange a swift burial. No one will talk." Jia Xiche, in high spirits, waved from the dragon throne. "Are you hungry? Come, eat with me."
He expected the usual cold refusal—it would be improper or this servant dares not. He braced himself. He was used to it. They had all the time in the world.
But A Jin said yes.
He walked over and sat across from Xiche at the table.
Jia Xiche nearly fell off the throne. He scrambled to pile food onto A Jin's plate.
"Try this! Your favorite roast beef—I had the chef we brought from Qi make it. Tastes just like home."
A Jin ate every bite, down to the last grain of rice.
"In a few days I'll take you on the autumn hunt! You love archery, right? I had the craftsmen forge a new bow—it's stunning. Consider it a gift."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." A Jin bowed, his expression unchanged.
"Heh, no need to thank me. Just—be a little nicer to me from now on?" Xiche grinned, wide and guileless, showing all his teeth.
* * *
A Jin said nothing. He gave one soft, gentle smile, then turned and withdrew.
Jia Xiche sat alone in the throne room, a helpless grin splitting his face from ear to ear.
Does my A Jin like me, even a little?
Even if he doesn't, it's fine. We have so many tomorrows. He'll come around eventually…
The next morning, Jia Xiche was still dreaming when a eunuch's frantic voice dragged him awake.
He opened his eyes. Every maid and attendant in the palace was on their knees, ashen-faced.
"What happened?"
"Your Majesty… the commander of the imperial guard… he—he has passed."
After that, Jia Xiche heard nothing. His ears sealed shut. A fog swallowed his vision. He staggered out barefoot, his dragon robe half-fastened, and ran to A Jin's quarters.
A Jin lay on the bed, still and pale, his breathing gone.
Xiche pulled back the covers. Red, everywhere—blinding, arterial red. A Jin had cut open his own belly.
"Why?!" He cradled the cold body in his arms and howled, a child stripped of everything, every shred of imperial dignity shattered.
I tried so hard. I climbed to the very top. No one could stand in our way anymore.
Why don't you want me?
He whispered to himself, to the silence, for days and nights on end, refusing to leave, refusing to eat, spiraling toward madness.
It was Su Jing who finally reached him. She pleaded, reasoned, held his people hostage to his conscience, and forced a few bites of food past his lips.
* * *
You know, when I was nine, I wasn't exactly favored in Qi. I was frail, and my legitimate brothers saw me as a punching bag. My grandfather assigned me a shadow guard at random—mostly so I wouldn't get beaten to death and embarrass the family.
A Jin was twelve. He didn't even have a name—just a number. Seventh. I thought that was unbearable, so I gave him a proper one: A Jin—"ember." He liked it. Back then, he was still a boy who smiled.
The first time I saw him, he wouldn't lift his head. He stuttered through every sentence. Yet he fought like something inhuman.
Every time my brothers cornered me, A Jin dropped from the sky, scooped me onto his back, and leaped over rooftops until nobody could follow.
When there was no escape, he stood in front of me and took the blows himself.
His body was a map of scars—some from training, some from my brothers' cruelty. Every time I cried with guilt, A Jin would grin and say, "Protecting Your Highness is my duty. Besides, it doesn't hurt at all."
But A Jin was human. How could a human not feel pain? He felt it. He just never told a soul.
* * *
He hid me in every corner of that palace. We sat on the roof and watched the moon. We crouched in the bushes and fed mosquitoes with our blood.
Strange, isn't it? He only appeared when I was in danger, yet the hours with him were the happiest I'd ever known.
I was fifteen on a rainy day, hiding with him in a grotto in the garden. I looked at his thin profile and his beautiful eyes and something seized me. I leaned over and kissed him.
A Jin froze. He stared at me the way you'd stare at a monster. Then he ran.
I sat alone in that grotto, crying. Because I'd finally understood what I was.
I was a man, hopelessly in love with another man.
Afterward, A Jin went back to his role as if nothing had happened. Dedicated, efficient, invisible.
But something had happened. I could never forget. Could he?
So I threw myself into everything—books, swords, the ugly game of succession—until I held Qi's military in my fist. No one could bully me anymore.
A Jin knelt before me and asked to be relieved. My skills now matched his. He was no longer needed.
I sat in my chair and smiled. "You truly don't know what I feel for you?"
He stiffened. After an endless silence, he raised his eyes. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I only like women."
"That's fine. I'll make you like me."
I was despicable. After everything he'd done for me, I chained him to my side anyway—until it killed him.
Do you think he hated me so much that he'd rather die than stay?
* * *
Jia Xiche rambled on without pause, then looked up, lost, and asked Su Jing the question.
"No. I truly believe his feelings for you were real. I could sense it. It wasn't one-sided." Su Jing answered gently.
Jia Xiche only shook his head and said nothing.
A long silence.
"Cheng'an—take the military seal and the imperial stamp. Handle the court for me. Just a few days."
"Why? Where are you going?" Unease crept into her voice.
"I want to bring A Jin's body back to Qi myself. A person should rest in his homeland." A bitter smile.
"The Shen name has been restored. You and Shen Yuan are more than capable of running things here. And look after Huai'en for me, will you? I'll be back in a month."
Did he come back?
No.
Two weeks later, word arrived from the road.
Jia Xiche had hanged himself. In his will, he ordered a double tomb built, so that he and A Jin would lie side by side for eternity.
He wanted to meet A Jin in the underworld and ask him one question: in all those years, was there even one moment when his heart moved?
And in the next life, he hoped to be born a woman—so he could tell A Jin he loved him without shame.