My purpose in life right now?
To make Wang Yufei's existence a slow, simmering pot of elegant, inescapable suffering.
Not physically. Of course, I couldn't start a cat fight in the palace.
No, I'd take time to burn her down slowly—like a candle in a drafty room.
Graceful. Quiet. A little flicker here, a little wax spill there.
She hadn't expected me to return. I could see it in her eyes when I entered the palace garden that first morning—alive, adorned, and very much thriving. She froze for a half breath before snapping into her role, gasping loudly in front of everyone.
"Consort Li!" she cried. "Oh heavens, we were all so worried! I prayed every day for your safe return."
She even dabbed at her eye like there were actual tears there.
Oscar-worthy, really.
She pretended she didn't know what happened. Still claimed I'd simply wandered off. Vanished. And I played along—told everyone I had fallen into the river and been swept away, barely surviving thanks to a kind healer.
She smiled at me through her teeth.
But she didn't know what I knew.
She didn't know Wei Wuxian and his entire team knew exactly what she'd done.
And now that I was back?
I had one goal:
Make her writhe.
Step one? Insert myself into every scene she wanted to own.
I started small—just enough to disrupt her rhythm.
First start with Wei Wuxian.
Yufei cornered him beneath the peach blossoms, her voice soft and sweet, practically twirling a strand of hair as she spoke.
"You look tired, Prince Wei. You should rest more. Perhaps I can prepare you something calming…"
She was mid-offer when I emerged from the other side of the arch.
"Wei Ying~ there you are," I said, gliding up to him like we were mid-romance.
He blinked, slightly startled.
I grabbed his arm with both hands and tilted my head up at him, lower lip jutting out in a perfect little pout. "You promised to walk with me this morning," I said, voice just a touch too sweet, with a soft huff at the end. "Don't tell me you forgot~"
He looked down at our linked arms.
Then at Yufei.
Then at me.
And the smirk bloomed like he was born for this.
"Oh, that's right," he said. "Forgive me, Lady Wang. Mei Lin and I have a long-standing appointment."
I turned to her with wide, innocent eyes. "Oh… were you speaking with him?"
"I…" she started, frozen.
"We'll just be a moment," I said sweetly. "Maybe an hour. Or two."
Yufei's lips twitched as we walked away.
Victory: small, but delicious.
From that moment on, it became my daily game.
Whenever she tried to get close to one of them, I stepped in.
***
One day, she cornered Lan Wangji near the lotus pond with a pouch of custom incense tucked between her palms, the packaging folded into a perfect silk lotus.
"I thought of you while blending this," she said gently, offering it up like a sacred relic. "Sandalwood and plum blossom. It's calming. Steadying. I thought… perhaps it would suit your meditation."
Lan Wangji blinked at her.
Just blinked.
"…Intention," she added nervously, "adds to its effect."
He finally spoke. "Intention has no scent."
It was the politest slap I'd ever witnessed.
She faltered for half a beat—clearly not expecting him to call her out on her poetic nonsense—and then recovered with a tight-lipped smile. "Well… I'd still be honored if you accepted it."
I waited just long enough to let her think the moment might salvage itself.
Then stepped forward from around the pavilion with perfect timing.
"Oh—Hanguang-jun!" I called lightly.
He turned toward the sound of my voice.
Then I "tripped." Gracefully. Just enough to stumble off balance toward the stone step beside him.
He reached out instantly, catching my elbow and steadying me with his other hand at my waist—firm, composed, automatic.
I looked up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, like a woman who had just been rescued from falling into oblivion.
"Forgive me," I murmured, brushing invisible dust from my skirt. "I seem to keep losing my footing around you."
Yufei was still standing a step away, an incense pouch forgotten in her hands.
Lan Wangji was still holding my arm.
"You should walk more carefully," he said.
"I would," I replied with a soft smile, "but it's difficult to stay balanced when your heart keeps racing."
His brow furrowed—just slightly—but he didn't let go.
I looked down at his hand still on mine. "Would you… walk with me a while?"
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
Without a glance toward Yufei, he turned and began walking beside me.
I fell into step, keeping a dignified pace, resisting the urge to grin like a maniac. Behind us, Yufei stood stiffly by the pond, her elegant incense pouch drooping slightly like a dying fish.
"Thank you," I murmured to Lan Wangji as we walked.
"For what?"
"For catching me. And… for playing along."
He glanced at me. "You are not subtle."
"I'm also not finished."
"…I know."
And that's why I liked him.
He always saw more than he let on.
***
With Wei Wuxian, it was a game.
With Lan Wangji, it was a test of stillness.
But with Ming Yu?
It was… complicated.
Because while the others were part of this ploy, Ming Yu was the only one who already had my heart—and couldn't show it.
Not here.
Not in public.
He'd always been good at hiding his feelings. Too good. He kept his distance even when we were alone—soft touches, careful words, love buried under layers of loyalty and honor. And ever since our return to the palace, he'd become even more guarded. Distant, almost. Like the walls around him had grown higher.
Maybe that was why he didn't catch on at first.
Or maybe he was trying so hard to protect me, he forgot that I didn't need protecting—I needed revenge.
Yufei found him near the training pavilion after morning court, where he stood watching the guards rotate formation. He looked calm, focused, unreadable in that maddening way of his.
She approached with all the sweetness of a poisoned dumpling.
"Advisor Liu," she said, tilting her head ever so slightly. "You always look so serious. One might think you never smiled."
He gave a stiff nod. "Training requires focus."
"I was thinking," she continued, inching closer, "that perhaps you might join us at the tea garden this afternoon. A few of us are gathering. It would do you good to… unwind."
Ming Yu gave a noncommittal sound that could've meant maybe, no, or please stop speaking.
Yufei smiled like she'd won.
I picked that exact moment to step into view, holding a small white flower I'd plucked on my way from the corridor.
"Advisor Liu," I said, smiling, "you're just in time."
He turned, and when he saw me, something in his expression shifted—but only for a fraction of a second.
I crossed the stone walkway toward him, ignoring Yufei completely, and without asking, I reached up and tucked the flower into the tie of his belt.
"There," I said, dusting my fingers together. "Too many dark robes. You needed something… softer."
He looked down at the flower.
Then at me.
Then back at the flower.
"...Consort Li," he said slowly, like he wasn't sure if I was joking or actively trying to destabilize the kingdom.
Yufei's smile was frozen in place, twitching at the corners.
Ming Yu, bless his heart, still didn't understand.
"I was just speaking with Advisor Liu about the tea garden," she said, addressing me now. "We'd be happy for you to join us—"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude," I said sweetly. "Advisor Liu and I already have our own… afternoon plans."
That got his attention.
He blinked. "We do?"
I turned to him, eyes wide with mock innocence. "We don't?"
I could feel the gears turning behind his eyes.
And then—finally—finally—he caught up.
His expression didn't change much. But I saw it.
That glint. That flicker. That slow, burning realization that I wasn't just flirting—I was making a point. And he was the point.
His voice lowered ever so slightly. "I remember now. We do."
He turned to Yufei and bowed politely. "My apologies, Lady Wang. Another time, perhaps."
We walked away slowly.
And when we were out of earshot, I glanced at him sideways.
"Took you long enough."
He sighed, deeply. "I thought you were just being reckless."
I grinned. "I am. But elegantly."
He didn't say anything.
But he reached down, fingers brushing mine for half a breath.
Then pulled away before anyone could see.
And that—just that—was enough to make Yufei's head nearly snap off as she turned to glare at our backs.
Once all three of them caught on, it was over for Yufei.
I had started this little theater production.
But they?
They took the script and rewrote the third act with flair.
I don't even know when the roles flipped. One day I was pulling strings. The next?
The men were freestyling.
Suddenly, I was in the middle of a royal performance with three very powerful cultivators—and none of them could resist a good bit of dramatic irony.
Wei Wuxian was the first to go rogue.
We were in the eastern courtyard, where ministers were gathered for a scroll blessing. It was quiet. Formal. Serene.
Yufei stood nearby, just close enough to make it seem like she was casually part of our circle.
Then Wei Wuxian leaned toward me and whispered—loud enough for others to hear:
"Mei Lin… don't stand too close. People might think I've stolen your heart."
I nearly choked.
Yufei's eyes snapped toward us.
"Oh, my mistake," he added dramatically. "I already have."
He offered me a single magnolia bloom he'd conjured from somewhere. Where did it come from? No idea. But now I was holding a flower, everyone was staring, and Yufei looked like she'd just bitten into a raw lemon.
I turned my head slowly and thought, who is directing this madness now?
The palace knew the story: Hanguang-jun had fallen for me.
At least, that's what they were meant to believe. That was part of the plan. The cover. The carefully staged "scandal" we'd used once already to escape Yufei's trap.
But since then, there'd been no public displays, no soft stares. Lan Wangji had returned to his usual state: silent, composed, unreadable.
Which made what happened all the more powerful.
Yufei was waiting for me near the plum blossom courtyard—perfectly positioned to look like she'd arrived by accident, perfectly timed to intercept me just before I stepped out into the walkway.
"Consort Li," she said smoothly, "I was just admiring the blossoms. You should be careful walking here. These stones are uneven… if you're not watching your step."
I smiled. "Thank you for the warning. But I think I've learned how to walk."
I turned to go—
And there he was.
Lan Wangji.
Appearing from the garden path, silent and silver-edged in the late sunlight.
He gave a brief, polite nod to Yufei—no more than required.
Then he stopped beside me and looked down.
My sleeve had come slightly undone—just a sliver, barely enough to notice.
But he noticed.
And in full view of Yufei, without a word, he reached out and gently adjusted the corner of my sleeve, folding it neatly into place.
His touch was light. Deliberate.
Not intimate. Not improper.
But… familiar.
Then, quiet as ever, he said, "Your presentation is always precise. I wouldn't want others to misjudge you."
I looked up at him, surprised.
He met my eyes, expression unreadable.
But that gesture—simple, protective, respectful—carried weight.
Not scandal.
But implication.
Yufei's smile cracked at the edges.
She knew it was nothing… and everything.
After a pause, I said softly, "Thank you, Hanguang-jun."
He inclined his head.
"Of course."
And walked on. Golden award for Lan Wangji.
***
Once Ming Yu caught on. He just started showing up—quiet, steady, and then did something that caught even me off guard.
The palace arranged a flower arrangement lesson for the ladies that afternoon—something about seasonal harmony and inner grace. I wasn't paying much attention. I was too focused on picking the prickliest-looking stems possible.
Yufei, of course, had crafted something delicate and pale, all wispy blooms and soft petals that looked like they'd collapse if you even sighed near them.
I went bolder—bright dahlias and plum branches twisting just slightly out of place.
After the lesson, we were both walking down the corridor toward the inner hall, each holding our finished arrangement in a porcelain pot.
Our arms were full, and the pots were heavy—not impossibly so, but enough that I had to be careful not to let mine tilt too far.
That's when Ming Yu appeared.
Coming from the direction of the training grounds, hair still damp with post-practice sweat, robe loose at the collar.
Yufei's eyes lit up instantly. She adjusted her grip on her pot, her shoulders subtly squaring like she was about to offer it to him for praise or assistance.
But he walked right past her.
Didn't even glance.
And stopped directly in front of me.
Without a word, he reached out and took the flower pot from my hands—gently, like it was made of glass.
"You're still weak from falling into the river," he said quietly. "Let me carry this for you."
My heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.
Yufei stood frozen, still holding her own pot like she was waiting for someone to relieve her too.
Ming Yu continued, his voice lower now. "Though… even if you hadn't fallen, I would've still done the same."
And then—casually, like he was commenting on the weather—
"I hope you already know that."
He walked ahead, my flower pot balanced perfectly in his arms, without looking back.
I stared after him, stunned for a moment.
Yufei stood beside me, her knuckles white against the smooth ceramic of her untouched arrangement.
I turned to her with the faintest smile.
"You might want to catch up," I said gently. "Your flowers are starting to wilt."
Then I followed after Ming Yu, my steps light, and my heart—just a little lighter, too.