Chapter 5

I died in the emperor’s arms.

He held me tightly, as though I were a priceless treasure.

But I could feel none of it. I felt only that I was flying, far from pain, emptied of all emotion.

Quietly, I watched him drink and mourn.

Defying his ministers, he insisted on burying me with an empress’s rites.

He stripped Song Qianyi of her title, reduced her to a commoner, confiscated the Song family’s property, and sent them into exile.

He recalled my parents and brother, gave them high office and generous stipends, and promised them a lifetime of prosperity.

On the day of my funeral, a lock of his hair turned white.

People spoke of the emperor’s devotion.

Some cursed me as an enchantress.

I was only a passing wind, feeling neither joy nor sorrow.

The only person who moved me was my personal maid, Liansheng.

She dashed her head against my coffin and died there, blood flowing slowly from the wound in her forehead.

Looking up at the sky, she whispered,

“My lady was only sixteen when they shut her in that ruined garden. What did she ever do wrong?”

Yes.

What had I ever done wrong?

I reached out, caught her soul, and said softly, “Come. Your sister will take you home.”

When I opened my eyes again,

I was sixteen once more.

It felt like waking from a dream.

I looked at Song Qianyi’s still-youthful face and could tell she had not been reborn.

I did not know whether to laugh or cry. Desolation filled me.

If I had known death would bring rebirth, why had I humbled myself and endured so many wretched years?

But who could know?

No one.

Perhaps that was Heaven’s cleverness: it let no one know the secret of what came after death, so everyone would fight with all they had for this one life.

This time, I would fight with all I had too.

Only I would no longer be good.

I would be wicked—a wicked woman who lived as she pleased.

The corners of my mouth lifted. I extended a fingernail and lightly traced Song Qianyi’s tender cheek.

Her frightened trembling gave me a little pleasure.

“You’re a daughter of the Song family,” I said coolly. “There’s no reason for you to remain with the Shens indefinitely. Tomorrow I’ll have you taken home.”

I turned away.

“Cousin!” Song Qianyi cried urgently, grief in her voice. “If you send me back, I’ll have no way to survive.”

I glanced back, my eyes indifferent.

“That’s your concern.”

It had nothing to do with me.

That night, Song Qianyi was nowhere to be seen.

Mother anxiously ordered a search. Someone reported that she had last been seen outside the crown prince’s residence.

Mother’s face darkened.

I took her hand and said softly,

“Let her go. She’s found her own way out.”

“Mother, she belongs to the Song family. She isn’t truly a Shen daughter.”

Mother looked stricken.

“No wonder you no longer want the crown prince.”

“I wouldn’t want him either.”

“But my poor girl…”

Her eyes reddened. Her grief for me was real, as was the resentment she felt toward Song Qianyi on my behalf.

I gently embraced her, greedy for the warmth of her arms and the fragrance at her temples, and said softly,

“There’s nothing to regret. What looks like misfortune may turn out to be a blessing.”

Everyone would get what they deserved.

I wished only that those two lovers might finally be together.

I settled Mother to sleep but could not sleep myself.

In the middle of the night, I rose, dressed in black, took my bow and arrows, and carefully coated the arrowheads with poison.

I went to wait where Prince Cheng had been attacked in my previous life.

I found a hiding place and waited quietly.

The past flickered through my mind, scene after scene.

In my previous life, he had said his hatred for me began that day.

Then let all our debts begin that day as well.

Before long, I heard a rustling sound.

I looked up and saw Mu Heng fight desperately to kill the last assassin, then collapse, gravely wounded himself.

I watched in silence. Then I drew my bow. The arrow broke the stillness before dawn and struck his back with a dull thud.

His body jerked. Soon he went limp.

I waited quietly a little longer, then turned and left.

Taking a deliberate detour, I went home, crawled through the dog hole in the wall, and changed my clothes.

I burned the black clothes, the bow and arrows, and the poison.

Throughout it all, I was quiet.

I wondered how it would end.

If Mu Heng died, our debts were settled.

If he survived, we would go on entangling each other, until one of us was dead.

At daybreak, just as in my previous life, I went for a walk in the woods outside our residence and saw Mu Heng lying on the ground.

He struggled to look up at me, surprise and hope mingled with worry in his eyes.

I sneered inwardly. Was this fate’s arrangement? Very well. Let it come.

Behind me, a maid called, “Miss, your mother asks whether you truly won’t attend the consort-selection banquet. If you aren’t going, she’ll have to apologize to Her Majesty.”

With Mu Heng watching me hopefully, I said calmly,

“Tell my mother I’m not going.”

Mu Heng smiled. Summoning his strength, he whispered, “Miss Shen, save me.”

Very well.

I’ll save you.

Don’t regret it.