If there was one place Lin Yue wasn't supposed to be, it was the Forbidden East Wing of the palace. Known for high treason, vengeful ghost cats, and door hinges that squealed like gossiping aunties, it was the kind of place that screamed, "You're absolutely going to regret this." Naturally, Lin Yue walked right in.
Draped in a gown made of illusionary mist (because why not make your infiltration sexy?), she tiptoed across marble tiles while Yun hid behind a disturbingly phallic porcelain vase.
"You sure this is smart?" Yun hissed.
"Absolutely not," Lin Yue whispered. "Which makes it perfect."
She shoved open the massive Council chamber doors with the sort of dramatic flair that made entering rooms feel like foreplay. Inside, rows of old men turned as one. The air was thick with dust, disdain, and enough ego to fuel a small rebellion.
"Gentlemen," she said with a smirk, "I hear someone's trying to kill me."
Gasps. Choking. A minister actually dropped his gavel. Chancellor Mo Ren squinted like he was trying to erase her with judgment alone.
"You do not belong here."
"Then I'm doing it right," she replied, slapping a scroll on the table. "Signed by the Empress. I'm officially on the Magical Affairs Council. You're welcome."
From the shadows, a figure emerged. Cloaked in black silk, moving like sin in slow motion, the man bowed slightly.
"Name's Jin. Royal Shadow Operative. You're late."
"We have hot spies now?" she said, eyeing him head to toe. "This empire really is improving."
Outside, a scream. Then three hooded figures crashed through the ceiling like overly dramatic pigeons. The Whispering Silk had arrived—an assassin guild notorious for killing with poison, perfume, and occasionally flirty insults.
"Lin Yue," the lead purred, "we want your head. And possibly your number."
She rolled her eyes, drew a blade Jin had just tossed her, and spun.
"What is it with hot guys and murder?"
Chaos exploded. Yun shrieked and threw a tea tray. Jin disappeared into shadows like a dramatic stage exit. Lin Yue ducked, sliced, and somehow managed to lash one assassin to a lantern pole using nothing but ribbon and bad intentions.
By the end of it, two were unconscious, one was stuck dangling like festive décor, and the last gave her a wink before vanishing in a puff of glitter smoke.
"Is it weird I kinda liked that?" Lin Yue asked.
Back in Jin's hidden library, lit only by floating candles and the subtle simmer of sexual tension, he handed her a scroll.
"This came from the Divine Archives. It's about you."
She unrolled it. Her own face stared back—drawn in ink hundreds of years old.
"I don't think you landed here by accident," Jin said.
She stared at the paper. "You're telling me I'm part of some divine prophecy?"
"Not just that. You're the variable in an ancient power game. They wanted you here. Someone pulled you across time."
Lin Yue sat down hard, the weight of fate pressing against her cleavage. "So let me get this straight. I'm the chosen one, being hunted by sexy assassins, courted by a prince, and now shadow-flirting with a hot spy?"
Jin raised an eyebrow. "That about sums it up."
"And what happens next?" she asked.
He smirked. "We burn the rulebook."
She grinned back. "And maybe a few bedposts along the way."