The next day—
The Yu residence was quieter than usual.
Red silk still fluttered from the lanterns along the outer gate, and the faint scent of incense lingered—ghostly traces of the night's banquet. Servants tread lightly, whispering behind sleeves. Word traveled fast among the nobility: the engagement between Yu Meishan and Wen Renshu had become the capital's newest obsession.
In the inner courtyard, Meishan sat beneath the skeletal branches of a pear tree. She wore her plain morning robes, brushing her hair with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Congratulations, my lady," her maid murmured, setting down a bowl of jasmine tea.
Meishan hummed, her gaze drifting upward toward the bare branches, still waiting for spring.
She was thinking.
Not of Wen Renshu, who had once promised never to leave her.
Not of her father's approving nod, nor her mother's reluctant acceptance.
But of Luo Zhenyu—whose smile never reached his eyes.
"Do you regret it?" she asked quietly, startling her maid. The courtyard was empty, save for them.
Then—
"Regret what?"
Meishan turned sharply.
Wen Renshu stood at the garden's edge, dressed in dark robes, his sword slung casually at his side.
He looked awkward, like a boy unsure of where to step—but something had shifted. Less boy. More man.
She arched a brow. "Eavesdropping already?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "I was... checking the perimeter."
"Of course you were."
A long silence fell.
Then, quietly, Renshu stepped forward. "Did I trouble you yesterday?"
"No." She reached for her tea. "You only surprised me."
His voice softened. "Is it true you meant to break off the engagement?"
Meishan froze.
He knew?
Meeting his gaze, she said after a pause, "I didn't think you would care."
"I wouldn't have. Before." His eyes held hers. "But things change."
Another pause—thick with unsaid things.
Just as he opened his mouth again—
Footsteps.
Soft, deliberate.
Luo Zhenyu appeared, no fan, no sword—only a scroll tucked under one arm, and his usual smile nowhere in sight.
"Lady Meishan," he said smoothly. "May I have a word?"
Wen Renshu shifted, tense.
Meishan lifted her chin. "If you wish."
Renshu looked at her, silently questioning. She gave a small shake of her head.
"I'll be nearby," he said, then left without protest.
Now they stood alone.
Zhenyu didn't sit. Didn't smile.
"I thought about it all night," he began. "And I realized... I don't understand you anymore."
"Then we're even," Meishan replied coolly. "I never understood you at all."
He laughed—short, bitter.
"Was it ever real?"
She didn't hesitate. "No."
His fingers tightened around the scroll, creasing the parchment.
He leaned in, voice low.
"Meimei. This is your final chance. Say you'll marry me. It will benefit you—my father's influence far surpasses Wen Renshu's."
"Does it?" Her voice was light, mocking. "And what have you built, besides your father's shadow?"
He went still.
"I've learned patience. Strategy. Power is earned, not just inherited."
"And yet, here you are," she said softly. "Disguising threats as promises. If you were truly powerful, you wouldn't need to beg."
His jaw clenched.
"You are not just any woman. You're the key to the future I intend to shape. Don't mistake my offer for weakness."
She met his gaze unflinchingly.
"I will not be a pawn in your game, Zhenyu. Choose your next words carefully."
Silence stretched taut between them.
Then he bowed slightly. "Think well, Meishan. The tides are shifting. You may find fewer doors open than you expect."
She stood firm. Calm.
"Then I'll make my own tide."
He turned, cloak snapping behind him, and left without another word.
Meishan watched him go, his warning lingering in the air like thunder on the horizon.
The pear tree's branches swayed, still barren—but under them, something within her stirred. Quiet. Certain.
Renshu returned not long after.
He paused at the courtyard's edge. Meishan still sat beneath the tree, her face unreadable, drawn tight like a bowstring.
His brows knit.
What had Zhenyu said to her?
He stepped forward, but—
"Why did you come here in the first place?" Her voice sliced through the stillness, cold and brittle.
He halted.
"I came to see my wife-to-be," Renshu said with a tentative smile. "Is that wrong?"
"I don't want your attention." She rose. "You should leave."
A flicker of pain crossed his face. He inclined his head. The smile vanished.
"…Very well."
He turned, footsteps dragging.
But before he could disappear completely, he paused.
Without turning, he said quietly, "I won't be visiting for a while. There are matters at the northern garrison that need me. Take care, Meishan."
And he left.
Meishan stood motionless. Then slowly exhaled.
She turned and walked back toward her chambers. Her steps steady.
Her heart, anything but.
Behind her, a breeze stirred the branches overhead, and a single pear blossom drifted to the stone below.
The corridor was too quiet.
She'd almost reached the main hall when she heard the rustle of silk and the jingle of jade hairpins.
Yu Lianhua stepped into view, smiling sweetly—too sweetly. Her embroidered robes were far too extravagant for morning wear, and her eyes gleamed with feigned innocence.
"Oh, Meishan-jiejie," she chirped. "Why are you walking alone? Shouldn't your fiancé be by your side?"
Behind her stood Lady Xu, her expression unreadable save for the satisfied tilt of her chin.
Meishan didn't stop.
She brushed past Lianhua, calm. "A woman doesn't need an escort in her own home. Or do you still require one, older sister?"
Lianhua's smile twitched.
Lady Xu chimed in, her voice lacquered in concern. "We only worry for you, child. A hasty engagement may not bring happiness. A man like General Wen… is not meant for you."
Meishan turned. Her gaze was calm, but glinted like steel.
"I know he isn't."
Lady Xu's smile sharpened. "Then why not call it off?"
If only I could.
But Meishan said nothing.
Instead, she replied, voice cold, "Warmth is wasted on those who smile while baring fangs. If you fear Renshu's temper, pray he remains in the north. He has no patience for court games."
Lianhua's expression soured. "You're not suited for him. Everyone knows it."
"Then you should be thrilled," Meishan said, tilting her head. "Unless… you wanted him for yourself?"
A crack appeared in Lianhua's mask. She stepped forward.
Meishan didn't flinch.
"Be careful, Lianhua. Coyness is a poor disguise. And jealousy is a dangerous game."
Without waiting for a reply, Meishan turned and left them behind.
By the time she reached her chambers, her pulse had steadied. Her face remained composed.
But behind the door, as it clicked shut, she leaned against the wood—and breathed out.
She crossed to the window.
A petal floated past, a whisper of spring not yet here.
A woman like Yu Lianhua will never stop.
She envies what she cannot have.
And envy, Meishan thought, is a blade waiting to be sharpened.
She watched her reflection in the window—sharp, still, sure.
"If she believes Renshu should be hers…" she murmured, "…then I'll let her believe it."
A faint curve of her lips.
Let her scheme.
Let her try.
Wen Renshu will have no choice but to end it himself.
Few days later...
The wind howled across the northern garrison, carrying the sharp scent of pine and frozen earth. Wen Renshu stood on the ramparts, his dark robes billowing beneath the crimson military cloak that marked his rank as the empire's greatest general. His face was stern, with eyes like cold onyx that seemed to pierce the skies.
Beside him, two young men, his trusted subordinates, awaited his orders.
The first, Lu Yichen, was tall and lean, with hawk-like eyes and a calm demeanor. His black hair was tied back in the simple warrior's knot. The second, Zhao Mingyu, was shorter, more fiery in spirit, his eyes bright like embers beneath thick brows, and his armor polished to a gleam.
"It is good the emperor has finally granted you permission to investigate this, Young Lord," Lu Yichen said with a slight bow, his voice low but firm.
Zhao Mingyu smirked. "We were already investigating in secret, behind the emperor's back."
Wen Renshu's lips twitched in a rare smile. "He knew we were investigating in secret. That's why he summoned me personally."
Zhao's smile faded slightly. "I really wanted to attend your engagement banquet, though. It was said to be magnificent."
Lu Yichen gave Zhao a sharp nudge. "Ouch. What?"
Wen Renshu's eyes darkened, his tone cutting through the light banter. "Enough. Report."
Lu Yichen stepped forward, unrolling a worn scroll. "The emperor's concern was not with mere banditry or petty smuggling, but with suspicious movements of coin shipments in the northern provinces. Reports came from several towns where the currency suddenly failed to buy even basic goods."
Zhao Mingyu added, "Soldiers here at the garrison have been complaining about their pay—sometimes receiving heavy coins that are rejected by merchants. The supply routes, however, appear untampered with. Yet the flow of coins is irregular and untraceable."
Renshu frowned, folding his arms. "And what have you discovered?"
Lu Yichen's eyes flickered with something like unease. "The coins appear genuine at a glance, bearing the emperor's seal. But when tested, they ring hollow—lighter than real silver, and the edges are rough, showing signs of crude casting."
Zhao nodded. "It's a forgery. And a skilled one at that. Whoever's behind this has access to minting tools or inside knowledge."
Wen Renshu turned away from the wind, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Show me."
They led him to the command hall, where a small pouch of the suspect coins was laid on a wooden table. Renshu picked up a coin, turning it in his hand beneath the flickering candlelight. The seal was flawless, but the weight betrayed it.
"This is no ordinary forgery," he said quietly. "The craftsman knows the mint's secrets."
Lu Yichen hesitated. "There was a clerk assigned to track the shipments. He disappeared last week. His quarters were found empty except for a scattered ledger."
Renshu's eyes narrowed. "Bring the ledger."
Minutes later, the flickering lamplight illuminated a bundle of papers and ledgers spread on the table. Renshu scanned the records quickly.
"Copper shipments disguised as grain," he muttered. "Transported through Shi & Co., a merchant house headquartered in the capital."
Zhao's jaw clenched. "Shi & Co.? That name rings a bell."
Lu Yichen added, "They're known for connections in the palace and shadow dealings."
Renshu's expression hardened. "This goes deeper than the north. Someone is undermining the empire's very foundation."
A sudden knock interrupted them. A breathless messenger stepped inside, bowing low.
"My lord, there's been an incident at the eastern gate. A patrol found a corpse—marked with the emblem of the imperial mint."
Renshu's gaze snapped to the messenger. "A warning?"
The candle flickered violently as the wind outside roared, and Renshu's voice dropped low.
"This investigation will be long and dangerous. Prepare the troops. And double the guards on the mint shipments."
He looked to Lu Yichen and Zhao Mingyu, his eyes cold steel.
"We are not just fighting enemies on the battlefield anymore. Someone is poisoning the empire from within. And if we fail... everything will fall."
Outside, the snow began to fall in heavy flakes.