I've always known it's risky business introducing a new friend into a well-established group.
Especially when your new friend is—let's say—a morally ambiguous, aggressively smug with resting "I know something you don't" face.
And especially when the group in question doesn't like him—at all. The moment I stepped into Yuling's quarters, I could feel it in the air: heavy and still, like the calm before a storm no one bothered to warn me about.
Yuling was seated in her usual chair, back straight, one hand resting protectively on the curve of her stomach. Her face was composed, but her eyes had narrowed just slightly at the sight of Shen Kexian behind me. That's the look she reserves for complicated people… or undercooked dumplings.
Lan Wangji was standing to the side, perfectly still, arms folded into his sleeves. He didn't say a word, but his expression spoke volumes: cold, polite disapproval. The kind that didn't need words to wither someone's soul.
Wei Wuxian, bless him, was slouched on the edge of a table like he was trying to escape through the wood. His brows were lifted so high they were practically in his hairline, and his smile was the kind that said, Oh, this is going to be fun—but not for me.
Ming Yu… didn't smile at all.
He was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, face unreadable. But I knew that stillness. That silence. The set of his jaw and the slight pull at the corner of his mouth.
Shen Kexian took one look at the room—at the frozen faces, the veiled hostility radiating off at least three different people—and gave a light, pointed exhale.
"Wow," he said under his breath. "Not a very welcoming crowd, huh?"
I shot him a look. The kind that meant I swear if you make this worse, I will personally stitch your wounds closed with your own hair.
"Kexian," I hissed, low and sharp.
Too late.
Wei Wuxian's eyes flicked toward me with interest. Then narrowed.
His gaze bounced from me to Shen Kexian, and he let out a long, low whistle.
"Casual name basis," he murmured, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
Yuling's brow twitched.
Lan Wangji's expression didn't change, but I was sure I felt a wave of judgment from across the room.
And Ming Yu didn't move or speak, but when I glanced at him, his eyes locked with mine—sharp and cold, slicing through every unspoken excuse I hadn't even dared to form.
My throat tightened.
I cleared it quickly, trying to pull the mood out of the abyss I'd just thrown it into. I straightened, ignoring the hundred ways this was already a disaster.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," I said, voice just a little too formal.I pushed on, forcing steadiness into my tone. "He—Shen Kexian—has something to share with all of you."
Shen Kexian exhaled, shoulders straightening as he surveyed the room. When he spoke, his tone was calm, but purposeful.
"I'm sure you've all noticed the shift in the palace and the city."
He glanced toward me briefly, then back to the group. "People have started to worship her."
That got their attention.
Yuling straightened. Wei Wuxian sat up from his half-lounge against the table. Even Lan Wangji's brows dipped a fraction lower.
Shen Kexian continued. "I've received reports. Petitions. All coming in from various corners of the city. And not just idle talk—formal ones. Requests for recognition."
He turned toward Wei Wuxian. "Prince Wei, I assume some of these have come to you as well?"
Wei Wuxian grimaced and gave a resigned nod. "I've seen them. Most of them are handwritten with far too many petals and love poems, but yes. They're real."
I blinked. "Hold up. What reports? What petitions?"
Lan Wangji spoke then, voice even but edged. "Petitions to give you an official title."
Shen Kexian added, "Goddess of Water."
I blinked again, slower this time. "I thought I already had that? People have been calling me that for weeks."
Ming Yu's jaw tensed. He didn't speak, just shook his head slowly like he already knew where this was going.
"You're still Consort Li," he said quietly. "Prince Wei's royal consort. A palace title."
I frowned. "Okay… so?"
Wei Wuxian let out a long breath and finished it for him. "An official divine title would change your station. It means elevation. It means ceremony. It means politics."
Shen Kexian's expression turned grim. "It means being named High Priestess. And serving directly under the Queen."
The words landed like stone in my chest.
"What?" I said, the breath catching in my throat.
Shen Kexian's eyes didn't waver. "The plan to strip Prince Wei of power is already in motion. And you—you—are being repackaged as something they can use."
"No way," I said, standing up straight. "So I just stop being his consort?" I pointed directly at Wei Wuxian. "Like… divorce?"
The word tasted absurd even as I said it. I could hear my own voice getting higher, more incredulous.
In my head, everything was unraveling way too fast.
Great. I'm an object now. A mystical government-issued teapot that needs to be reassigned. Can't marry it? Send it to the temple. Burn incense around it. Maybe let it do a rain dance for ceremonial purposes.
I felt like I'd been emotionally yeeted straight into bureaucratic nonsense.
And then—
Wait.
If I wasn't Prince Wei's consort anymore… wouldn't that make me single?
Single.
The thought came out of nowhere, uninvited and stupidly bright in the middle of my panic spiral. I glanced—just glanced—at Ming Yu, too quickly, too quietly, but the idea was already there, burning at the edges of my brain.
If I'm no longer attached to the throne… does that mean… we could…?
I didn't say it. Of course I didn't say it.
But I looked.
Ming Yu shifted slightly beside the wall, arms still folded across his chest, but his shoulders weren't as still as they had been. His gaze was on the floor, but I could feel it—he was thinking the same thing I was.
If I'm no longer tied to Prince Wei… could we finally—?
And that was a mistake.
Because Shen Kexian caught it.
Of course he did.
He leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow arched with infuriating precision. His expression was amused, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Don't get too excited, Consort Li," he said smoothly. "Do you really think the palace would let you go from being the divine Goddess of Water to marrying someone else?"
His tone was casual. Too casual.
But the jab landed.
I sank back down, throat tight, face hot. Because I knew he wasn't just teasing me. He was reminding me, in his usual sarcastic, knife-disguised-as-a-smirk way, that even freedom here came with conditions.
It was Yuling who finally broke it. Her voice was calm, but clipped.
"How do we stop this?"
Wei Wuxian exhaled. The kind of sigh that meant he'd already thought through the answer and didn't like it.
"We might not be able to," he said. His shoulders dropped slightly. The admission clearly sat heavy on him.
Shen Kexian was quiet for a moment. Then he glanced at Wei Wuxian, and then at me. He seemed to be thinking, something clicking together behind his eyes. He straightened a little. His tone was more serious now.
"There's no way to stop the title from being given," he said. "But if we want to take down the Wang family, we need someone inside."
He looked directly at me.
"A perfect hidden weapon," he said. "And who better than our Goddess of Water?"
That made the entire room shift.
Ming Yu's head turned sharply.
"You want to risk her life?" he asked. His tone was louder than usual. His posture had changed, no longer composed.
Shen Kexian turned to him with a raised brow and the sort of infuriating calm only someone who thrived on conflict could muster.
"No," he said smoothly. "I want to keep her alive. And unlike you, I actually can."
That did it.
The tension snapped. Not completely—but enough to leave a crack in the room.
Ming Yu's eyes darkened. His fists clenched. He looked like he might punch Shen Kexian right there, inside Yuling's perfectly arranged sitting room.
I stepped between them and raised both hands like I was directing traffic between two incoming disasters.
"Alright, halt the brooding death stares," I said.
They both looked at me.
"We are not doing this. Fighting each other? That's literally step one in every downfall story ever. Drama 101. Day one lesson."
No one moved, so I kept going.
"You know what happens next? Someone throws a punch, someone else bleeds emotionally, and next thing you know we're all too busy sulking to stop a political coup."
Behind me, Yuling let out a quiet chuckle.
Then she gasped.
Her hand flew to her belly.
Immediately, the mood in the room changed. Every conversation died mid-thought. Wei Wuxian straightened so fast he nearly knocked over the tea tray.
"Yuling?" I turned toward her. "Are you alright?"
She didn't answer right away. Her brows pulled together, one hand bracing on the armrest of her chair.
Then she exhaled—slow, careful.
"Yes," she said, voice steady but a little too calm. "Just… a sharp kick. He's dramatic like his father."
Before the tension could ease, Yuling gasped again.
This one wasn't soft.
Her whole body jerked slightly, and her hand clutched tighter over her stomach. The color drained from her face in an instant.
"Yuling!" I rushed to her side. "What's wrong?"
Her lips trembled as she tried to breathe through it. "It hurts."
Wei Wuxian was already at her other side. "We need a physician. Now."
Without a word, Lan Wangji turned and left the room at full speed. Shen Kexian had stepped forward as well, calm but focused. He crouched beside her, watching her closely. His eyes scanned her body—noticing details, not missing a thing. Then his gaze dropped to the small embroidered pouch hanging from her belt. He leaned in, frowned, and brought it to his nose.
A moment later, his expression darkened.
"Who gave you this?" he asked sharply.
Yuling blinked, struggling to speak. "I—I don't know. One of the handmaids—why?"
Shen Kexian didn't wait. He yanked the pouch free from her waist and stood.
"This is mugwort," he said grimly, fingers tightening around the fabric. "Mixed with tansy and dong quai."
I stared at him. "Wait, isn't that—"
"Poison," he finished. "For a pregnant woman, yes. Subtle, slow-acting, but enough exposure over time—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't have to.
Yuling was trembling now, eyes wide with the realization.
Someone had poisoned her.