"You're too honest for a spy," Emperor Li Xuan said with a faint smile.
He moved closer, his hand gently brushing Mei Lin's shoulder—a touch so light, yet it sent a cold shiver rippling through her. Mei Lin didn't move. She only blinked slowly, trying to steady her breath. Beneath her fear, she knew—if she faltered tonight, everything would collapse.
"I won't hurt you tonight... if that's what you fear," murmured Emperor Li Xuan, as if he understood what Mei Lin felt.
"But Your Majesty could kill me without ever scratching my skin," Mei Lin replied softly. She felt his body shift closer. The back of his hand now touched her cheek, caressing slowly, as if testing the emotion behind her face. Mei Lin closed her eyes, letting herself drift briefly into the silence and dread woven between their breaths.
To distract herself from her fear, Mei Lin began to imagine a field of wildflowers in the South—where she once danced freely before everything changed, before she became a tool for diplomacy and vengeance. She remembered the face of her mentor, Madam Zhu, who once said, "If you cannot fight with a sword, dance like a serpent—deadly from within."
And so, she began to speak. Her voice was low and gentle, but carried a calm rhythm, like a chant to soothe her own trembling. "Your Majesty... did you know that in the South, girls are taught to dance not to seduce men, but to deceive their own fear? They dance not to tempt, but to convince themselves they won't die that night."
Emperor Li Xuan stared at her without blinking. "And you were one of them?"
Mei Lin nodded. "I was the best at dancing over my fear," she whispered.
A long silence followed. The Emperor seemed to be reading something deep within her eyes. Then, he touched her cheek again, trailing down to her chin and pausing there. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "You are different from any woman who has ever set foot in this palace."
They lay on the same bed, yet a strange stillness hung between them. The Emperor's body moved closer again, his arm wrapping firmly around Mei Lin's waist. But he didn't push, didn't demand. He simply held her. In that silence, Mei Lin closed her eyes, focusing on the slowing rhythm of her heartbeat.
She repeated a mantra in her mind, "I will not die tonight. I will not break tonight. I am only dancing beside a dragon—and I must survive long enough to burn his lair to the ground."
Morning light crept softly through the high, thin curtains. The air in the chamber was still cold, and the scent of last night's sandalwood incense lingered. Mei Lin slowly opened her eyes, her breath calm but her chest heavy—not from weight, but from reality seeping back in.
She was still in Emperor Li Xuan's embrace. His arm rested firmly around her waist, leaving barely any space between them. His chest rose and fell steadily, like a calm river hiding powerful currents beneath. His face was close, his warm breath brushing her temple.
He hadn't woken up. Or perhaps, he chose to remain silent in this shared stillness. Mei Lin remained still, unmoving. There was a moment of pure quiet, where she stared at the ceiling and let her thoughts roam freely—this time without the fear of the night before. Only a voice inside her remained, slowly growing strong again, like roots breaking through soil after a long storm.
"This is only the beginning. Don't lower your guard. You didn't come here to fall... but to make others fall."
She swallowed hard. Her heart still beat fast, and she was grateful for that. But she also knew that the most dangerous threat was no longer the sword at her throat—but the arm that held her like she belonged to him.
That feeling... was slowly creeping into her heart, but Mei Lin resisted. "Don't be a fool," she warned herself. "This embrace is not protection. It's a trap wrapped in warmth."
Her hand moved slowly, intending to free herself—but the Emperor's arm tightened, as if his body instinctively knew the woman in his arms was something he could not let go.
"Don't leave..." he murmured, half-asleep. The words were soft. Heavy. As if drawn from the depths of his soul.
Mei Lin closed her eyes again. Her heart clenched. Not because his words stirred emotion—but because she knew: this was the start of the deadliest danger of all—a false love that makes you want to stay.
She had to remember why she set foot in this palace. She was not a girl sent to be pampered, loved, or admired. She was a hidden blade in bloom. And flowers never fall in love with the hand that plucks them.
"Don't be a fool, Mei Lin. Don't ever think you can melt the heart of a dragon. You are only dancing at the edge of his fire."
She kept still. But in her mind, strategies were being rewritten. She would have to move faster, be more cautious, and grow more immune. Because if the Emperor kept holding her like this every morning... death would not be her greatest concern.
As the morning light grew brighter, Emperor Li Xuan slowly opened his eyes. His gaze immediately found Mei Lin's face—awake, calm, but clearly uncomfortable. He watched her for a moment before taking a deep breath and speaking in his husky morning voice:
"I like mornings like this." His fingers moved slowly along Mei Lin's arm, unhurried. "Warm. Quiet. And you, beside me."
Mei Lin held her breath, then chose not to answer. She simply lowered her gaze, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing to stay composed.
The Emperor sat up slowly, leaning against the headboard. He studied the woman beside him, then reached out and gently stroked her cheek.
"From today onward," he said calmly, though it was clearly a command, "I want you to wear only sheer cloth when you're near me. Transparent. The kind that makes it impossible to look away from your beautiful body."
Mei Lin turned her head slowly, her gaze blank yet in control. Not angry. Not surprised. She had expected this.
"I am your concubine, Your Majesty," she replied calmly. "If that is your command, I will obey."
Emperor Li Xuan stared at her for a long moment. "Don't say it with such ice in your voice. I want you to understand your place. You are not just a concubine. You are mine."
That final word locked the air in Mei Lin's lungs. But she offered a small, well-practiced smile. "All that belongs to Your Majesty, exists only for Your Majesty. If I must be fire, then let me burn only in your presence."
The Emperor smirked. "You do have a way with words. But be careful, Mei Lin… play with fire too often, and you might burn yourself."
Mei Lin bowed her head, hiding the shadow that passed through her eyes. "Or maybe I'll burn your throne... before you even realize it," she whispered inwardly.
The Emperor stood, signaling a servant to prepare his garments. But before he left the bed, he turned once more toward Mei Lin. "Tonight, I want you to dance. Here. For me alone. And wear something that would make even the gods envy you." Then he left.
Mei Lin remained there, alone, in the thin nightgown that barely covered anything. But her eyes were no longer those of a frightened woman. They were the eyes of a player who knew the game had just begun.
"Very well, Your Majesty. I will dance...""...but not to please you. To distract you—before I strike."
Not long after the Emperor's departure, a young female servant entered, carrying a silver tray with breakfast—white sticky rice porridge, warm chicken soup in a porcelain bowl, and a pot of steaming jasmine tea.
The servant was young, but her demeanor showed she had long served in the palace. She walked with arrogance, her chin slightly lifted, eyes scanning Mei Lin from head to toe, taking in the barely clothed figure.
She placed the tray on the small table silently, but her gaze spoke volumes. Jealous. Spiteful. Sharp.
"Ah… it seems the new concubine hasn't yet been taught how to dress properly once morning arrives," she whispered, loud enough for Mei Lin to hear. "Or perhaps... that's just your way of keeping His Majesty's attention?"
Mei Lin didn't turn to look. She remained seated on the bed, pulling the blanket to cover her shoulders and chest. Her expression stayed calm—too calm for someone who had just been insulted so bluntly.
The maid was still standing there, waiting for a reaction. When she didn't get one, she continued, this time with a sharper tone. "You think a pretty face and smooth skin are enough to keep you here? Many came before you, all of them thought they could conquer His Majesty. But look at them now… just shadows at the far end of the west palace corridor."
Mei Lin slowly turned her head. Her gaze remained unchanged—cold and sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk. "Has the duty of a palace maid now included commenting on the concubines personally chosen by the Emperor?"
The maid lifted her chin with pride. "I'm merely giving you a warning. Girls like you are easily burned by fleeting attention. But here… the ones who survive aren't the prettiest, but the most cunning."
Mei Lin smiled. A small smile that never reached her eyes.She stepped down from the bed slowly, letting her sleeping robe slip just slightly from her shoulder. She walked closer—unhurried, but with purpose—until she was only an inch away from the maid.
Her voice was calm, yet held the edge of a hidden dagger. "Then you should've been the Empress by now. Because clearly… you're quite the expert in cunning." The maid's face stiffened at Mei Lin's biting words.
Mei Lin leaned in closer, whispering into the girl's ear, "But unfortunately, the one His Majesty held in his arms last night… wasn't you."
The maid bit her lip, then bowed hastily, suppressing her fury. "My apologies, Lady Concubine. Please enjoy your breakfast."She turned quickly, nearly half-running as she exited the chamber.
Mei Lin watched her retreating back disappear behind the door, then let out a quiet sigh. She knew the enemy under the same roof had started to show her fangs. But she also knew one thing: she didn't come here to lose this game.
She sat back down, picked up the teacup, and took a slow sip. "Good," she murmured. "The sooner they hate me, the sooner I'll know who to destroy first."