That night, darkness settled over the palace once more.
Xiao Zhi waited.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her posture stiff, hands folded tightly in her lap. Her gaze stayed fixed on the door, unblinking, as if looking away for even a moment might invite something unwanted to happen.
Time passed slowly.
She listened.
Footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor outside her chamber. Her heart jumped, muscles tightening instinctively. She held her breath, counting the seconds.
The footsteps passed by.
They did not stop.
Voices followed, low and indistinct, then faded into silence.
Xiao Zhi did not move. Her body remained tense, her nerves stretched thin, waiting for the familiar sound of a door opening.
Minutes slipped by.
Then more.
Her eyes began to sting from staring too long, but she refused to relax. She had learned better than to trust quiet too easily.
An hour passed.
Only then did the truth settle in.
He was not coming.
Not tonight.
She breathed a heavy sigh.
She lay down carefully, every muscle still tight, half-afraid the door would creak open the moment she closed her eyes. Sleep came in fragments, half dreaming, and she could still hear the sound outside even after she closed her eyes. But it was better than nothing.
The following night, the ritual repeated.
She waited.
The door stayed closed.
Her fear eased, just a little.
And then on the third night, the door burst open.
Not quietly. But deliberately loud.
It slammed against the wall with a loud thud, almost knocking over the table beside it.
Xiao Zhi flinched.
Kabil stumbled inside, almost tripping over the doorway. He grabbed the doorframe and cursed under his breath, moving slowly and unsteadily. The strong smell of alcohol filled the room at once.
He was far gone.
His robe slipped off one shoulder. His hair was messy, damp with sweat. His eyes were unfocused, struggling to look at her.
It took him a moment to even recognize her.
"You…" he said, swaying on his feet as if the world itself were tilting. "You thought you were lucky, didn't you?"
His words slurred together, each one dragging, clumsy, and incoherent.
Xiao Zhi's heart sank.
He walked closer, still stumbling, knocking his knee against the bed frame hard enough that a sober man would have winced. He didn't even react. Instead, he laughed before reaching out.
His fingers closed around her neck, grip rough but unsteady. Lacking its usual strength. Panic surged through her, but almost immediately, she felt it.
His grip was weak.
His hand trembled.
Kabil frowned, as if confused by his own weakness.
Then his knees buckled.
Without warning, he fell forward. His hand slipped away, and he crashed onto the floor with a heavy sound.
For one terrifying moment, Xiao Zhi thought he was pretending.
Then he didn't move.
She stood frozen, watching his chest rise and fall. She waited. Counted her breaths.
Nothing.
No sudden movement. No cruel laughter.
He was out cold.
A shaky sound escaped her lips. Half laugh. Half sob.
"So," she whispered, "the universe isn't completely heartless."
Her legs finally gave out. She sank onto the edge of the bed, hands trembling as the adrenaline drained from her system. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the unconscious man sprawled on the floor like discarded clothing.
He started to snore faintly.
The sound was almost ridiculous.
That night, Xiao Zhi slept.
Not the shallow, half-dreaming doze she'd grown used to. But real sleep. Heavy and deep. The sound of his snoring stayed in the background, harmless now, stripped of its power.
For the first time in a long while, she did not wake in fear.
***
Morning came too soon.
Xiao Zhi woke slowly, warmth brushing against her eyelids. For a brief, disorienting moment, her body felt light, rested in a way it hadn't been in weeks. Then memory surged back.
She sat up quickly.
The first thing she saw was him.
Kabil lay sprawled on the floor beside the bed, exactly where he had fallen the night before. One arm was thrown awkwardly over his head, his robe tangled and half-open. His face looked pale, and his brows pinched together even in sleep.
He groaned.
The sound was low and rough, thick with pain.
A hangover, she realized. A bad one.
Her pulse spiked instinctively, but she forced herself to stay still, watching him carefully. He shifted slightly, then settled again. His breathing was heavy, uneven, laced with the faint sour smell of alcohol.
He wasn't waking yet.
Xiao Zhi moved.
Slowly, deliberately, she slid her feet onto the floor, careful not to make a sound. Every movement felt exaggerated in the quiet room. She gathered her robe, quickly tied her hair with shaking fingers, and took a single step back, then another.
Kabil didn't stir.
Only then did she allow herself a breath.
She crossed the room and stopped by the door. Her hand hovered there for a heartbeat before she called the maids who were waiting in front of her room.
"Attend the Prince," she said, keeping her voice calm. "He drank too much last night."
The two servants' eyes flicked past her before they could stop themselves. One of them stiffened visibly at the sight of Kabil sprawled on the floor.
"Be careful," Xiao Zhi added, stepping aside. "He has a headache, a terrible one."
They nodded quickly and rushed in.
She didn't wait to watch.
"I need to report for my duties," she said lightly, "I'll return later."
No one stopped her. They were too busy making sure Kabil didn't wake up as they carefully guided his drunken body onto the bed.
The door closed behind her, and Xiao Zhi walked away.
Her steps were slow at first, her expression carefully neutral as she passed through the familiar corridors. Servants bowed unwillingly, as usual.
But with every step farther from that chamber, her chest loosened.
When she made sure she had walked far enough from her quarter, she finally stopped and let out a big sigh. The events of the night replayed again and again in her mind.
Drunk.
Passed out.
Motionless.
Her mind then remembered the small porcelain bottle resting on her desk.
A thought began to form.
Clear and calm.
If she could make him pass out like that… then she could protect herself.
Her lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.
"Thank you," she murmured, not sure who she was addressing. The unknown helper, fate itself, or maybe even her past self. "For reminding me I still have a brain."
She wasn't strong.
She wasn't powerful.
But she was smart.
And smart people survived.
For the first time since entering this doomed fate, Xiao Zhi wasn't just enduring.
She was planning.
Planning how to rewrite the story.
Planning how to survive.
Planning how to strike back.