The palace didn't feel like a place.
It felt like a throat.
Cold stone walls.
High arches.
Lanterns hanging like watchful eyes.
And every step Lin Yue took…
was a step deeper into something that wanted to swallow her whole.
Her wrists weren't tied.
That was the cruel part.
They didn't need rope.
They had the world.
Two silent guards walked behind her.
The robed man walked in front.
Shen Rui walked beside her.
Close enough that his sleeve brushed hers.
Close enough that she could feel his warmth—
and hate it.
Because warmth was supposed to mean safety.
And right now…
warmth was just proof that she was still alive.
Lin Yue's fingers trembled.
She didn't look at Shen Rui.
If she looked at him, she might break.
Or worse—
she might believe him again.
Shen Rui's jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful.
He kept his eyes forward.
He didn't speak.
Because if he spoke…
his voice would shake.
And the palace would smell weakness like blood.
They entered a wide corridor lined with banners.
Gold thread.
Royal insignias.
Symbols that screamed ownership.
At the end of the corridor, a door opened.
And light poured in.
The sound hit them first.
A crowd.
Not a normal crowd.
A court crowd.
The kind that didn't cheer with joy.
They cheered with hunger.
Lin Yue stepped into the open courtyard.
And every eye turned to her like a blade.
She saw noblewomen in silk.
Men in armor.
Priests with shaved heads.
And in the center—
a raised platform.
A ceremonial stage.
A chair sat there.
Not the imprint chair from the underground room.
But a throne-like seat carved with the same circular symbols.
The same geometry.
The same intention.
Lin Yue's stomach twisted.
She whispered without thinking:
"They built another one."
Shen Rui heard it.
His fingers twitched.
He wanted to grab her and run.
But there was nowhere to run.
The robed man lifted his hand.
The crowd quieted instantly.
His voice carried, calm and sharp.
"Today," he said, "the palace welcomes back its lost jewel."
Lin Yue's skin crawled.
Lost jewel.
Like she was an object that wandered away.
The robed man smiled.
"Our princess," he announced, "has returned."
A wave of murmurs spread.
Some sounded relieved.
Some sounded excited.
Some sounded… disappointed.
Like they were hoping she'd return broken.
Lin Yue's gaze flicked over the crowd.
She saw faces she didn't recognize.
But she felt them.
The way a hunted animal feels wolves.
Her throat tightened.
She could taste iron.
The doctor and the scarred man were nowhere.
Of course they weren't.
They wouldn't be allowed in here.
This was a stage.
And the palace didn't let outsiders witness the strings.
Shen Rui leaned closer, barely moving his lips.
"Don't speak," he murmured. "Not yet."
Lin Yue's eyes snapped to him.
Anger flared like a spark.
"Not yet?" she whispered back. "When, Shen Rui? When I'm already gone?"
His voice was rough.
"I'm trying to keep you breathing."
Lin Yue laughed softly.
It wasn't humor.
It was pain.
"Then breathe for me," she whispered.
"Because I don't think I can."
Shen Rui's hand tightened around his weapon.
He forced himself to stay still.
The robed man stepped aside.
A second figure approached the platform.
An elderly man holding a scroll.
A registrar.
His face was expressionless.
His voice was loud enough to cut stone.
"By decree of His Majesty," he read, "the princess Lian Yu is confirmed alive and returned to her rightful place."
The crowd murmured again.
Lin Yue's vision blurred for a second.
Not from tears.
From something worse.
From the sensation of her own name being pushed away.
Like a door being slammed inside her skull.
She gripped her hands into fists.
*Lin Yue.*
She repeated it in her mind.
*Lin Yue. Lin Yue. Lin Yue.*
Her lips moved silently.
Shen Rui noticed.
His chest tightened.
He leaned closer again.
"Hold it," he whispered. "Hold your name."
Lin Yue's eyes flicked to him.
And for a heartbeat…
she believed him.
Then the registrar continued.
"However," he said, voice dry, "there is an irregularity."
The crowd stilled.
The robed man's smile didn't move.
But his eyes sharpened.
The registrar unrolled a second scroll.
"According to palace registry," he read, "the identity known as Lin Yue—"
Lin Yue's breath stopped.
Shen Rui's entire body went rigid.
The registrar's voice didn't soften.
"—was declared deceased two years ago."
Silence slammed into the courtyard.
Lin Yue's knees almost buckled.
Her mind went blank.
*Deceased.*
The word echoed in her skull like a bell.
The robed man's voice was smooth.
"Of course," he said gently.
"Because Lin Yue never existed."
A ripple of whispers spread like poison.
Lin Yue stared at the registrar, lips trembling.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to say—
*I'm here.*
*I'm alive.*
But the palace had already killed her on paper.
And paper…
was stronger than flesh here.
Shen Rui's hand moved.
He didn't grab her.
Not yet.
But he shifted his stance, subtly placing himself closer.
A shield.
A promise.
The robed man turned to the crowd.
"You see," he said, voice calm, "our princess was taken."
"Her mind was confused."
"She used a false name to survive."
False name.
Lin Yue's nails dug into her palms.
Her voice cracked.
"It's not false—"
Shen Rui's hand shot out.
He grabbed her wrist hard.
Not to hurt.
To stop her.
His eyes were warning.
*Please.*
Lin Yue stared at him, shaking.
Her throat burned.
The robed man watched them.
And smiled.
Like he enjoyed the sight of love turning into a leash.
He raised his hand again.
"Let the Test of Identity begin."
Two attendants stepped forward carrying a silver basin.
Inside the basin—
dark liquid.
Ink.
Thick.
Black.
It smelled like the underground chamber.
Lin Yue's stomach lurched.
The robed man's voice softened.
"Princess," he said. "Place your hand in the ink."
"Speak your name."
Lin Yue froze.
She looked at the basin like it was a trap.
Because it was.
She could feel it.
If she said "Lian Yu"—
the palace would win.
If she said "Lin Yue"—
the palace would punish her.
Her throat tightened.
Shen Rui's fingers squeezed her wrist once.
A silent message.
*I'm here.*
Lin Yue wanted to spit in the ink.
Instead, she stepped forward.
Slowly.
Her heart pounding so loud she thought the crowd could hear it.
She held her hand above the basin.
The ink's surface trembled slightly.
Like it was alive.
Lin Yue's fingers hovered.
And then—
she dipped them in.
Cold.
So cold it hurt.
The ink crawled over her skin like a living stain.
Her breath hitched.
Her chest tightened.
Her vision blurred again.
The robed man's voice was calm.
"Speak," he commanded.
Lin Yue's lips parted.
Her tongue felt heavy.
Her mind felt foggy.
The ink wasn't just ink.
It was something else.
Something designed.
Something meant to make her slip.
She swallowed hard.
And forced the word out.
"Lin—"
The ink pulsed.
Her fingers burned.
Pain shot up her arm like lightning.
Lin Yue gasped.
Her knees buckled.
Shen Rui caught her instantly.
He pulled her back against his chest, holding her upright.
The crowd erupted in murmurs.
The robed man's voice turned sharp.
"Again."
Lin Yue's eyes watered.
Her voice shook.
"Lin Yue."
The pain doubled.
Her entire arm felt like it was on fire.
She screamed—
a raw, broken sound.
Shen Rui's arms tightened around her.
His face went pale.
He looked at the ink.
Then at the robed man.
His voice turned deadly.
"What did you put in that?"
The robed man smiled.
"Truth," he said simply.
Lin Yue sobbed, shaking.
The ink dripped from her fingers like blood.
She whispered, barely audible:
"Please…"
Shen Rui's jaw clenched.
His eyes burned with rage.
But rage didn't stop the ritual.
The registrar lifted his scroll again.
"By the ink's response," he declared, "the name Lin Yue is rejected."
The crowd's murmurs grew louder.
Like they were watching a play and finally got the scene they wanted.
The robed man stepped closer.
He looked down at Lin Yue with false pity.
"See?" he murmured.
"Your body knows the truth."
Lin Yue shook her head violently.
"No," she whispered. "No—"
"I'm not—"
The robed man turned to Shen Rui.
His voice became gentle again.
"Your Highness," he said, "you are the Crown Prince."
"You must confirm her identity."
Shen Rui froze.
The words hit him like a blade.
Confirm.
In front of everyone.
In front of the palace.
In front of Lin Yue.
The robed man's smile sharpened.
"Say it," he murmured.
"Say she is Lian Yu."
Lin Yue's head snapped up.
Her eyes locked onto Shen Rui's.
Tears streamed down her face.
Her lips trembled.
She whispered his name like a prayer and a curse at once.
"…Shen Rui."
The crowd watched.
Breath held.
Waiting for the prince to seal her fate.
Shen Rui's throat tightened.
His mind screamed.
*If I say it, I kill her.*
*If I don't, they kill her body.*
His hands shook.
He could feel Lin Yue's pulse against his arm.
Fast.
Fragile.
Alive.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
And saw the truth the palace couldn't erase.
Her fear wasn't royal.
Her pain wasn't scripted.
Her love wasn't trained.
She was real.
Shen Rui swallowed hard.
Then he turned to the crowd.
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
Like he had already died inside.
He opened his mouth—
And the robed man leaned closer, whispering only for him.
"If you refuse," he murmured, "the ink will continue until she cannot speak any name at all."
Shen Rui's blood went cold.
Lin Yue's fingers twitched.
She whispered, broken:
"Don't…"
Shen Rui's eyes burned.
He forced himself to breathe.
Then he spoke.
Loud enough for everyone.
Each word slicing his own heart.
"She…"
His voice cracked.
He swallowed it down.
"…is Lian Yu."
The courtyard erupted.
Cheers.
Relief.
Approval.
Lin Yue's face went blank.
Not from shock.
From something worse.
From betrayal.
Her body went limp in Shen Rui's arms like her soul stepped away.
Shen Rui caught her tighter, panicked.
"Lin Yue—"
The robed man smiled wider.
"Ah," he murmured. "Not Lin Yue."
He stepped forward, voice loud.
"Princess Lian Yu has returned."
Lin Yue's lips parted.
Her eyes unfocused.
And then—
she whispered, so softly it almost wasn't sound.
"…Who?"
Shen Rui's heart stopped.
Because that wasn't confusion.
That was the first crack.
The first piece of her name falling into the dark.
END CHAPTER 23
Cliffhanger: After Shen Rui publicly confirms "Lian Yu," Lin Yue's mind fractures—she asks "Who?" like she no longer recognizes herself.