Xia Yiren's POV
For three hours, I sit on my bedroom floor staring at my young hands.
These hands haven't been tortured yet. Haven't been bound and dragged to an execution block. Haven't clawed desperately at the ground while guards held me down.
They're clean. Unmarked. Innocent.
I want to scream.
Instead, I force myself to breathe. To think. To plan.
If I really have been sent back fourteen years, then I know everything that's coming. I know who will betray me. I know how they'll frame me. I know every trap before it's set.
But I also know the selection ceremony is tomorrow. Tomorrow, I'll be presented to the imperial family. Tomorrow, the soul bond will form with Crown Prince Yijun.
Tomorrow, my chains will snap into place.
Unless I refuse to go.
The thought makes my heart race. I could stay here. Tell Father I don't want to enter the palace. Live a quiet life far from the imperial city, far from Yijun, far from Ling Meihua and Minister Zhao and all the people who destroyed me.
But then what? Father still dies in battle three years from now. My brother Yunfei still wastes away from grief. The empire still falls into chaos under Minister Zhao's corruption.
And Ling Meihua? She'll just find another victim. Another innocent girl to befriend and betray.
No.
I can't run from this. If I have a second chance, I need to use it. I need to enter the palace, get close to my enemies, and destroy them before they can destroy me.
A knock on my door makes me jump.
Yiren? Father's voice calls. May I come in?
I scramble to my feet, wiping my face. Yes, Father.
He enters, and seeing him alive and healthy nearly breaks me. General Xia stands tall in his military uniform, his face kind but weathered from years of war. In my first life, he begged the Emperor to spare me. Got on his knees in front of the entire court and pleaded for his daughter's life.
Yijun refused him.
I have wonderful news, Father says, smiling. He pulls out an official scroll with the Emperor's seal. You've been selected as a candidate for the Crown Prince's harem. The selection ceremony is tomorrow.
My hands clench in my lap. Here it is. The moment everything starts.
Father, I say carefully, what if I don't want to go?
His smile fades. What? Yiren, this is a great honor. You'll serve the imperial family. Perhaps even become Empress one day.
Empress. I became Imperial Consort, the Emperor's soul-bonded mate, and it meant nothing when the evidence against me looked too perfect to ignore.
I just... I search for words that won't raise suspicion. I'm scared. The palace is dangerous. Court politics, rival consorts, all those powerful people
That's why your mother and I raised you properly, Father says gently, sitting beside me. You're smart, Yiren. Kind. Graceful. You'll navigate the palace just fine.
Kind. That's what got me killed. Being kind to Ling Meihua. Trusting her smiles. Believing people were good.
Never again.
Can I refuse? I ask quietly.
Father's expression turns serious. Technically, yes. But it would shame our family. The Emperor himself chose you, Yiren. Refusing would insult the imperial family.
So no choice at all. Just like last time.
I force a smile onto my face. You're right, Father. I'm just nervous. It's a great honor.
His relief is obvious. That's my girl. Your mother would have been so proud.
After Father leaves to arrange travel preparations, I sit alone in my room while Chunhua chatters about what dress I should wear tomorrow and how lucky I am.
I barely hear her. In my mind, I'm mapping everything I remember.
The selection ceremony tomorrow. Fifty noble daughters competing for ten spots. Ling Meihua will be there—sweet-faced and deadly. Minister Zhao will be watching, calculating which girls he can control.
And Yijun. Crown Prince Shen Yijun, eighteen years old, cold and distant and carrying the weight of the empire on his shoulders.
The moment our eyes meet, the soul bond will form. Just like last time. That supernatural connection that let us feel each other's emotions, sense each other's presence, share each other's pain.
The bond that made me believe we were destined to be together.
The bond that broke when he signed my death warrant.
Can I prevent it? If I keep my eyes down during the ceremony, avoid looking at him directly, will the bond fail to form?
I don't know. But I have to try.
That afternoon, my brother Yunfei returns from training. He's nineteen, tall and strong like Father, with an easy smile that hides a sharp military mind.
The moment he sees me, he stops.
What happened to you?
My heart skips. What do you mean?
Your eyes. He moves closer, studying my face. You look... different. Older somehow.
I force a smile. Don't be silly. I'm the same as always.
No, you're not. He sits beside me. What's wrong, Yiren? And don't lie. I know you too well.
For a moment, I'm tempted to tell him everything. About my execution, about coming back in time, about all the terrible things I know are coming.
But he wouldn't believe me. How could he? It's insane.
The selection ceremony is tomorrow, I say instead. I'm just nervous.
Yunfei's expression softens. You'll be fine. You're the smartest person I know. He grins. Besides, if any of those palace people give you trouble, just tell me. I'll handle it.
In my first life, he tried to handle it. Tried to investigate when I was accused. Minister Zhao had him arrested for interfering with imperial justice and thrown in prison.
He died there. Alone. Still trying to save me even though I was already gone.
Yunfei, I say quietly, promise me something.
Anything.
If something happens to me in the palace—if I'm accused of something or arrested or in danger—don't try to save me by yourself. Promise you'll be smart about it.
He frowns. Yiren, what
Promise me.
He studies my face for a long moment, then nods slowly. I promise. But nothing's going to happen to you.
I wish I could believe that.
That night, I can't sleep. Tomorrow, I return to the palace. Tomorrow, I see Yijun again and the soul bond might form, chaining me to my murderer.
Tomorrow, I either save myself or doom myself all over again.
I practice in the mirror, keeping my gaze down, averted, anywhere but directly at eye level. If the bond requires eye contact, I won't give it that chance.
But as dawn breaks and Chunhua helps me dress in formal silk robes, a terrible thought strikes me:
What if avoiding the bond makes everything worse? What if the bond is the only thing that kept Yijun from executing me immediately? What if without it, I'm just another consort he can dispose of without consequence?
The carriage arrives to take me to the palace. Father squeezes my hand. Yunfei watches with worried eyes.
You'll be fine, Father says again.
But as the carriage rolls toward the imperial city, all I can think is:
I'm walking straight back into my nightmare.