As a tattered relic surfaces after a near-fatal attack, Yue finds herself pulled deeper into a web of secrets, old grudges, and dangerous whispers. When the Empress suddenly summons her, is it truly a gesture of grace—or the beginning of something far more sinister?
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"What is it?" The Emperor inquired. He spoke with authority but kept his voice quiet, not wanting to disturb anyone outside the tent.
When the guard reached the front of the tent, he dropped down on one knee to show respect.
His hands shook a little as he reached for something in a small bag on his belt.
He took out an object wrapped in a very old piece of cloth. Carefully and slowly, the guard began to unfold the fragile cloth, being careful not to damage the item inside.
Slowly, with care, he passed the item to the Emperor.
Yue leaned in, curious. The fire in the tent flickered, casting moving shadows on their faces, and the fire's warm glow illuminated the scene between them.
The guard displayed an old piece of silk. Its edges were worn and frayed from years.
The fabric had lost its color and was covered in dirt,
However, the attention wasn't on the fabric itself but on what was sewn onto it. The embroidery was finely detailed, and every thread reflected the skill of a master artisan from long ago.
It was an image of a dragon wrapped around a mountain covered in clouds.
The threads appeared to capture the fire's light, almost like it was alive, glowing softly.
Yue's breath caught for a second as she gazed at the embroidery.
Despite its age and wear, the symbol displayed strength and a rich history.
She instantly recognized it—
"The Yun Kingdom," she whispered
Facing her, the Emperor was deep in thought, his eyes sharp and focused. He stared at the silk as if searching for a hidden message in its threads.
His expression remained calm and controlled, as it always did, giving nothing away.
After thinking for a while, he nodded slowly in quiet agreement.
"It's their symbol."
Yue turned to him, the image of the silk vivid in her mind. Her throat felt tight.
"Why would they leave this here?"
The Emperor's face became serious,
"The loyalists never gave up," the Emperor explained steadily.
"Even after their kingdom was conquered and the war ended, they kept trying. They never allowed their spirit to die."
He paused, a brief flicker of sorrow crossing his face.
He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly.
"They've tried to poison me in my drink, hidden blades in the shadows, even attempted to burn the archives that held our history."
"Every time, before we could catch them, they vanished into the darkness, leaving only their mark to serve as a warning."
Yue's eyes widened as the weight of his words sank in,
"And the tiger?"
Li Zhao nodded, "Another attempt, disguised as a wild incident."
Silence filled the tent, broken only by the wind and the fire.
Yue felt a shiver, not from the cold but from something larger and pressing: the fabric, the symbol, the Emperor's calm steadiness.
She spoke softly. "But why now? And why is the Yun Kingdom persisting after all this time?"
He turned to her with a tired look from past battles.
"Old hatred doesn't easily fade away," he replied.
"For some, the war doesn't truly end; it just goes quiet for a while. Underneath, the feeling of rebellion remains strong."
He paused and seemed to look far away as he spoke. "They're just waiting for the right time for it to start again."
Yue lowered her gaze. The visions of her family's massacre run frantically in her mind. Her hands clenched into tight fists.
Anger rose within her voice as she spoke, "Those damned Yun loyalists..."
"There is no need for fear," Li Zhao assured gently.
"I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."
The firelight highlighted his firm yet gentle face.
Yet, unease lingered. That symbol wasn't only for enemies. It was connected to her somehow.
"We shall return to the palace tomorrow," the Emperor said decisively.
Yue nodded as the wind moved through the camp, and the worn silk seemed to whisper old secrets.
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The familiar halls of the palace brought with them a return of protocol—bowed heads, rigid postures, and whispered greetings that carried more caution than warmth.
The air was colder here despite the spring sun beyond the carved lattice windows. Stone corridors echoed with the sound of silk shoes and the distant rustle of paper fans.
In a quiet room deep within the palace, everything was almost silent.
Heavy curtains blocked out the noises from the court. A small fire burned gently in the center, with hot glowing coals.
Emperor Li Zhao sat in an intricate wooden chair. His robes covered a bandaged side, and he sat stiffly despite the soft silk around him.
Firelight carved shadows on his stern face.
In front of him, a man in scholar's robes knelt on a woven mat, showing deep respect with his head down.
His grey hair was neatly tied under a jade pin. When he finally looked up, worry was etched on his face.
"Are you certain it was the Yun sigil?" the advisor asked in a low voice as if the walls themselves might overhear.
The Emperor nodded slowly. "Yes, it was found near where the tiger was released, hidden just enough to overlook."
The advisor frowned. "After so many years... they have become bold."
Li Zhao gazed at the fire, the red glow reflecting in his eyes.
"And they're precise. The timing wasn't an accident."
He stirred the coals with a bronze poker, creating a trail of sparks that danced briefly before disappearing.
"There's more," he said quietly. "Lady Yue heard the stable hands whispering. One thought the tiger wasn't meant for me."
The advisor tensed. "Then—"
"Perhaps the real target was her," the Emperor said, his voice steady but heavy.
"Or maybe the assassin failed. Either way, it confirms my suspicions."
He leaned slightly forward, his face stark in the firelight.
"The threat is already within the palace."
The advisor inhaled sharply. "The inner court?"
Li Zhao nodded, his tone sharper and deliberate.
"Yes. Maybe it's the eunuchs, maids, or the women."
The advisor's expression darkened. "You think one of the concubines...?"
"I believe anyone can betray if old anger festers long enough," said the Emperor.
"Loyalty is rare here. Old grudges are common."
He leaned back, shadows enveloping him, the firelight catching the gold embroidery on his collar.
"We begin observing everyone," he ordered.
"Servants, court officials, all the concubines. We must do this discreetly."
The advisor bowed deeply. "I shall see it done, Your Majesty."
At the other end of the palace, Yue sat quietly with Consort Shu in a peaceful area of the consort's quarters, surrounded by the gentle aroma of blooming magnolias.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, creating patterns on the polished table between them.
The tea set was placed between them, with steam rising from the spout of a beautifully painted teapot adorned with red plum flowers.
Even though Yue's hands were steady as she poured the tea, she felt anxious inside.
She recounted everything—the tiger, the quiet morning, the low voices near the animal pen, the moment the guards presented the frayed scrap of silk, and the Emperor's unreadable expression as he confirmed the symbol's origin.
Consort Shu sat across from her. She listened intently, her usually calm face now showing a hint of worry.
"It was the Yun Kingdom's mark?" she asked softly, almost to herself, tracing the edge of her teacup with her fingers.
Yue nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I don't know how I feel about this. They killed my family. If they're still out there—what if they're after me, too?"
The words lingered in the air, tense and fragile.
Consort Shu stopped cup midair.
Her eyes fixed sharply on Yue, assessing. Her forehead creased briefly before she resumed her calm expression.
"They're after you?" she asked gently, weighing each word.
She set her cup down softly. "Why would they be?"
Yue hesitated.
"I... don't know. It sounds silly. But seeing that mark, I felt something. Like it was reaching for something inside me."
Shu leaned back, hands in her lap, appearing calm. Her gaze turned serious, focused.
"Trauma can trick the mind, Yue. It fills gaps with fears when surrounded by uncertainty."
Her voice was gentle.
"Perhaps it's best not to speak openly about this. You're not just a maid now—your words have weight."
Yue swallowed, unsure if Shu's advice was kindness, warning, or both.
Shu added with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes,
"Besides, if they were truly after you, wouldn't they have found you already?"
Before Yue could reply, a eunuch appeared, bowing.
"Lady Yue," he said politely, "the Empress requests your presence for a private meeting."
Yue was caught off guard. She stood and adjusted her dress.
"Did her Majesty state her reasons?"
The eunuch shook his head. "Only that it's about civility."
Shu let out a soft, barely audible laugh. "Ah... civility. Charming."
Yue glanced at her, but Shu was already sipping her tea, eyes down.
"Be careful," Shu said lightly.