White.
That was the first thing Lin Yue saw.
Not the color of silk.
Not the color of snow.
White like a blank page.
White like a mind that had been scrubbed too clean.
She blinked.
Her lashes felt heavy, as if they'd been dipped in wax.
The air smelled of medicinal herbs and incense—sweet enough to hide the truth, bitter enough to warn her anyway.
A hand pressed gently to her wrist.
Checking her pulse.
A woman's voice whispered, relieved.
"She's awake."
Lin Yue turned her head slowly.
The ceiling above her was carved wood, lacquered black, painted with gold dragons and phoenixes.
Imperial.
Her stomach tightened.
She sat up too fast.
Pain speared behind her eyes like a needle.
She gasped.
The woman beside her caught her shoulders.
"Lady Lin Yue, please—your body is weak."
Lin Yue stared at her.
The woman wore palace robes.
Senior attendant.
Eyes down.
Too polite.
Too trained.
Lin Yue's throat felt dry.
"Where… am I?" she asked.
The attendant hesitated like she was choosing the safest lie.
"In the Inner Pavilion," she said. "You fainted during the ceremony."
Ceremony.
Lin Yue's mind reached for the memory—
and grabbed air.
A blank space.
A hole so clean it looked intentional.
She swallowed hard.
"What ceremony?" she asked.
The attendant's eyes flickered.
Then she smiled.
A careful smile.
"The Crown Prince's engagement decree," she said softly. "You were overwhelmed."
Lin Yue's chest tightened.
Engagement.
Decree.
The words felt like chains placed on her skin.
But the deeper feeling…
was worse.
Like something important had been ripped out of her ribs.
Lin Yue pressed her palm to her chest.
Her heart beat too fast.
Like it was running from something her mind refused to name.
The attendant lifted a tray.
A bowl of dark liquid.
"Drink," she said. "It will calm you."
Lin Yue stared at the bowl.
The scent hit her.
Bitter.
Sharp.
Not tea.
Not medicine.
Something… cleansing.
Her fingers curled.
A memory almost surfaced—
someone saying: Don't drink anything they give you.
But the voice vanished before it could form a face.
Lin Yue's breath shook.
"I don't want it," she said.
The attendant's smile didn't move.
But her eyes cooled.
"Lady Lin Yue," she murmured, "this is not a request."
Lin Yue's spine went cold.
She pushed the tray away.
The bowl tipped.
Liquid splashed onto the bedding.
The attendant's expression finally cracked.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
Like Lin Yue was a broken tool.
Footsteps approached outside.
Heavy.
Armored.
The curtain at the doorway shifted—
and the officer entered.
The one who smiled too much.
The one who called it "correction."
His hands were folded behind his back, posture perfect.
He looked at the spilled liquid and sighed.
"Such waste," he said gently.
Lin Yue stared at him.
Her throat tightened.
She didn't know him.
But her body did.
Her body screamed danger.
The officer stepped closer.
"Lady Lin Yue," he said, voice soft as silk, "do you remember what happened last night?"
Lin Yue swallowed.
"I fainted," she said.
The officer smiled.
"That's what you were told," he murmured.
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Imperial seal.
Fresh.
Red.
He held it up like a blessing.
"Do you remember tearing the decree?" he asked.
Lin Yue's breath caught.
Tearing… a decree?
Her fingers twitched.
Her mind flashed—
red ribbon.
Shattered wine.
A hall full of eyes.
A man's voice shouting her name—
LIN YUE—
Her head snapped up.
Her heart slammed.
"Who—" she gasped.
The officer's smile widened, pleased.
"Oh," he said softly, "there it is."
Lin Yue's vision blurred.
Pain throbbed behind her eyes.
She clutched her temples.
The memory tried to surface again—
a face.
Dark eyes.
Blood on white stone.
Lips on her knuckles.
A voice saying:
Just remember me.
Her chest tightened so hard she couldn't breathe.
Lin Yue whispered without thinking—
"…Shen…?"
The officer's smile vanished.
His eyes sharpened.
He stepped closer fast, voice suddenly cold.
"Do not say that name."
Lin Yue froze.
The room went silent.
Even the attendant stopped breathing.
Lin Yue's throat worked.
"Why?" she whispered.
The officer leaned down until his face was close to hers.
His voice was still calm.
But the calm was a blade.
"Because that name is poison," he said.
Lin Yue's pulse pounded.
She forced herself to speak.
"Where is he?" she asked.
The officer stared at her.
Then he laughed softly.
"Alive," he said.
Lin Yue's breath broke in relief—
too fast.
Too obvious.
The officer watched her reaction like a man watching a trap spring.
"You should be grateful," he continued. "The Crown Prince was merciful."
Lin Yue's hands clenched.
Merciful.
That word didn't match the fear in her bones.
The officer turned slightly, addressing the attendant.
"Leave us," he ordered.
The attendant bowed and retreated.
The curtain fell.
Now it was only them.
Lin Yue sat upright, trying to steady her breathing.
The officer placed the sealed paper on the table beside her.
"A new decree," he said.
Lin Yue's eyes dropped to it.
Her stomach turned.
"What is it?" she asked.
The officer smiled again.
Not kind.
Not cruel.
Administrative.
"A correction," he said.
Lin Yue's blood ran cold.
The officer tapped the seal.
"You embarrassed the palace," he said softly. "You broke the record in public."
Lin Yue's throat tightened.
"And now," he continued, "the palace will use you to fix it."
Lin Yue's eyes widened.
"Use me?" she whispered.
The officer nodded.
"Yes," he said. "You will stand before the court and declare that you were… unstable."
Lin Yue's jaw trembled.
"No."
The officer tilted his head.
"You will declare," he continued calmly, "that Prince Shen Rui forced himself upon you."
Lin Yue's body went still.
Her blood turned to ice.
The room spun.
"No," she whispered again, voice breaking. "That's not—"
The officer's hand snapped out.
He grabbed her chin.
Hard.
Pain shot through her jaw.
His smile was gone now.
His eyes were empty.
"You will say it," he hissed, "or the palace will erase you completely."
Lin Yue's eyes stung.
She couldn't breathe.
Erase.
Wipe.
Blank.
That white page.
That was what she woke up inside.
The officer released her chin and smoothed his sleeve like nothing happened.
"You're lucky," he said softly. "You still have fragments."
Lin Yue's nails dug into her palm.
Fragments.
A voice.
A kiss.
A name.
She didn't even know if those memories were real.
But her body…
her body still reacted like they were the only truth she had.
Lin Yue's voice came out hoarse.
"If he's alive," she whispered, "why are you afraid of his name?"
The officer's gaze sharpened.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Because he survived in front of witnesses," he said.
"And you… claimed him."
Lin Yue's chest tightened.
The officer continued.
"Now the palace cannot kill him quietly," he said. "Not without turning you into a martyr."
Lin Yue swallowed hard.
"So you'll kill me instead," she whispered.
The officer smiled.
"No," he said. "Worse."
He leaned down.
"Living women can be used," he murmured. "Dead women cannot."
Lin Yue's stomach churned.
The officer straightened.
"You will go to court at sunset," he said. "You will speak the script."
Lin Yue's lips trembled.
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
The officer's eyes didn't blink.
"Then you will drink the bowl," he said simply.
Lin Yue's throat tightened.
The bowl.
The cleansing.
The final wipe.
The officer turned to leave.
Then paused at the curtain.
"Oh," he added casually, "one more thing."
Lin Yue's eyes locked onto him.
The officer smiled again.
"This morning," he said, "Prince Shen Rui requested to see you."
Lin Yue's heart slammed.
Requested.
To see her.
Hope flared in her chest like a match—
and the officer crushed it with his next words.
"The Crown Prince refused," he said.
Lin Yue's breath shook.
The officer's gaze became sharp and almost amused.
"But," he continued, "the Crown Prince offered him an alternative."
Lin Yue's voice broke.
"What?"
The officer's smile widened.
"He said," the officer murmured,
"If Lin Yue remembers your name by sunset, you live."
Lin Yue's blood drained from her face.
The room went silent.
The officer tilted his head, watching her.
"And if she forgets," he added softly, "you die."
Lin Yue's mouth went dry.
Her hands trembled.
Her memory was already slipping.
The white page was already eating her.
The officer opened the curtain.
Then he stopped again, like he couldn't resist one last twist of the knife.
"Try hard, Lady Lin Yue," he said gently.
"Remember your lover."
Then he walked out.
The curtain fell.
Lin Yue sat frozen.
Her pulse hammered.
Her vision blurred.
She pressed her hands to her head, trying to hold the fragments inside—
trying to grip a face she couldn't fully see.
A voice she couldn't fully keep.
A name that felt like the only thing keeping her heart alive.
She whispered into the empty room, shaking.
"Shen Rui…"
And even as she said it—
she felt the palace pulling it away.
Like a hand reaching into her skull.
Like ink being wiped off paper.
Like the world demanding she become clean again.
Lin Yue's eyes burned with tears.
She grabbed the torn edge of the new decree and ripped it open.
The paper inside unfolded.
A script.
Prepared words.
A confession she didn't write.
Her gaze fell on the first line.
"I, Lin Yue, confess that Prince Shen Rui—"
Lin Yue's stomach twisted.
She crushed the paper in her fist.
Her lips parted.
She tried to scream.
But nothing came out.
Because the real scream was inside her head—
the scream of a girl who knew she loved someone…
but couldn't even remember why.
Outside, the palace bells began to ring.
Sunset was coming.
And somewhere behind walls she couldn't see—
a man's life was tied to the weakest part of her.
Her memory.
Lin Yue squeezed her eyes shut.
Her breath shook.
She whispered the name again like a prayer.
"Shen Rui…"
The bell rang louder.
And the white page inside her mind turned, waiting.
END CHAPTER 15
Cliffhanger Trigger: Sunset ultimatum—if Lin Yue remembers his name, he lives; if she forgets, he dies.