The first thing Lin Yue heard…
was birds.
Not the palace.
Not the mirrors.
Not that cold, sacred hum that made her bones feel like glass.
Just birds.
Morning birds.
The kind that didn't care about curses, crowns, or midnight.
Lin Yue's eyelids fluttered open.
She was lying on stone.
Wet.
Cold.
Her hair stuck to her cheeks.
Her throat burned like she'd screamed until her soul tore.
She sat up so fast her head spun.
"Shen Rui—!"
Her voice cracked.
Silence answered.
Lin Yue's eyes darted around.
No mirrors.
No robed man.
No chamber.
Only the palace courtyard—wide, pale marble, and a fountain that looked too innocent for a place that had just eaten a person alive.
She scrambled to her feet.
Her palms slipped on the damp stone.
Her breath came in sharp, panicked bursts.
"Shen Rui!"
Nothing.
Not even an echo.
Like the name had never belonged to this world.
Lin Yue froze.
The air felt wrong.
Not quiet.
*Blank.*
She ran.
Barefoot, hair wild, dress dirty, she ran like a girl chasing the last thread of her own life.
Servants turned their heads.
Guards stiffened.
Someone shouted, "Princess!"
Lin Yue didn't stop.
She grabbed the first soldier she saw by the arm.
"Where is he?" she demanded.
"Where is Shen Rui?!"
The soldier blinked at her like she'd spoken in a dead language.
"…Your Highness?" he asked carefully.
"Are you unwell?"
Lin Yue's fingers tightened until her nails dug into his skin.
"Answer me."
The soldier flinched.
He glanced around, nervous.
"Princess Lian Yu… there is no one by that name."
Lin Yue's stomach dropped.
No.
No, no, no.
Her breath caught in her throat like she'd swallowed glass.
She shook her head violently.
"You're lying."
The soldier's eyes widened in alarm.
"I swear, Your Highness—"
Lin Yue released him and stumbled backward.
Her feet hit the edge of the fountain.
Water splashed.
She didn't care.
She turned in a circle, desperate.
Maybe it was a trick.
Maybe the palace was still playing.
Maybe Shen Rui was hiding behind a pillar, smirking, telling her she looked ridiculous—
But there was no smirk.
No voice.
No warmth.
Only sunlight and fear.
A maid rushed forward with a cloak.
"Princess Lian Yu!" she cried.
"You collapsed after the ritual—"
Lin Yue's head snapped up.
"Ritual?" she repeated.
The maid nodded quickly, relieved to have an explanation.
"Yes! The Mirror Rite, Your Highness."
"You returned safely."
Returned.
Safely.
Lin Yue's body trembled.
Returned from where?
Safely from what?
She looked down at her hands.
Her palms were clean.
No ink.
No stains.
No proof she'd been Lin Yue at all.
Her chest tightened.
She grabbed the maid's shoulders.
"Say my name," Lin Yue whispered, shaking.
"Say my name right now."
The maid blinked.
"…Princess Lian Yu."
Lin Yue's vision blurred.
The world tilted.
She swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady.
"No," she said, low and dangerous.
"My real name."
The maid looked terrified.
"I… I don't understand…"
Lin Yue released her slowly.
Her fingers shook like she was holding back an earthquake.
She turned away.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
*They erased it.*
They erased Shen Rui's name.
They erased her name.
They restored the princess.
The palace got what it wanted.
And Shen Rui…
Lin Yue's throat closed.
She ran again.
Not to the courtyard.
Not to the fountain.
She ran toward the only place she could think of—
the Mirror Chamber.
Because if the palace had taken him…
then the palace still had to be chewing.
She reached the corridor.
Two guards stood at the entrance.
Their armor gleamed.
Their eyes were empty.
Lin Yue didn't slow down.
"Move."
The guards crossed spears instantly.
"Your Highness," one said politely.
"The Mirror Chamber is sealed."
Lin Yue's lips curled.
"Seal your mouth."
The guard stiffened.
"Princess Lian Yu—"
Lin Yue slammed her palm against the spear, shoving it aside.
The metal scraped her skin.
Pain flashed.
Good.
Pain was real.
Pain meant she still existed.
She stepped forward.
The guards hesitated.
Not because they feared her.
Because they were confused.
Like they didn't know what version of her they were supposed to obey.
Lin Yue's eyes narrowed.
She leaned closer, voice dropping.
"I am not asking."
Something in her tone snapped them back into instinct.
They stepped aside.
Lin Yue walked into the corridor leading to the chamber.
Each step felt heavier.
Not because she was tired.
Because the palace was pushing her out.
The air thickened.
The light dimmed.
Her lungs tightened like invisible hands were squeezing.
Lin Yue pressed forward anyway.
Then she saw it.
The door.
The Mirror Chamber door.
It was… pristine.
No cracks.
No burns.
No ash.
No sign of a fight.
Like nothing had happened.
Like Shen Rui's sacrifice was a dream the palace never recorded.
Lin Yue's breath shook.
She placed her hand on the cold stone.
Her voice came out as a whisper.
"Open."
Nothing.
She pressed harder.
"OPEN."
Still nothing.
Her chest rose and fell too fast.
She started pounding.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
"OPEN!"
"OPEN, YOU COWARD PALACE—OPEN!"
Her knuckles stung.
Blood smeared faintly.
But the door didn't move.
The palace didn't answer.
Because it didn't need to.
It had already won.
Lin Yue slid down the door, shaking.
Her breath came out broken.
She covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from screaming again.
Her shoulders trembled.
And then—
she felt it.
Something small.
Hard.
Against her ribs.
Inside her dress.
She froze.
Slowly, she reached into the inner seam.
Her fingers touched metal.
A ring.
Lin Yue's breath stopped.
She pulled it out.
A plain silver ring.
Simple.
Worn.
The kind of ring a prince who didn't belong would wear like a promise and a warning.
Lin Yue stared at it like it was a living heart.
Her fingers shook as she turned it.
There should've been a crest.
There should've been a mark.
Something that proved he existed.
But the ring was…
blank.
Smooth.
Unclaimed.
A ring without identity.
Lin Yue's throat tightened until she couldn't breathe.
Her hands trembled violently.
"No," she whispered.
"No, no, no—"
Her tears fell onto the metal.
They rolled off like the ring didn't recognize her grief.
Lin Yue clenched it in her fist so hard it hurt.
Then she heard footsteps.
Soft.
Measured.
Not guards.
Not servants.
Someone important.
Lin Yue wiped her face with the back of her hand and stood up, fast.
She turned—
and saw him.
A man in royal robes, hair tied neatly, posture perfect.
A prince.
Handsome in the way paintings were handsome.
Dead in the way statues were dead.
He looked at Lin Yue with calm familiarity.
"Princess," he said warmly.
"You shouldn't be here."
Lin Yue's blood went ice.
Because his face—
his face was wrong.
Not unfamiliar.
Worse.
Familiar in the way a replacement is familiar.
Lin Yue's lips parted.
"…Who are you?"
The prince smiled gently, like she was a child asking a silly question.
"I am Prince Shen Rui," he said.
"Your fiancé."
Lin Yue's world stopped.
Her ears rang.
Her heart dropped so hard she thought she might vomit.
She stared at him.
This was not him.
This was a copy.
A polished lie.
A puppet wearing a stolen name.
Lin Yue's fingers tightened around the blank ring.
Her voice came out low, shaking with rage.
"You're not him."
The prince's smile didn't change.
"Princess Lian Yu," he said softly.
"You must be tired."
"The Mirror Rite can confuse the mind."
Lin Yue stepped forward.
Her eyes burned.
"Say it," she hissed.
"Say something only he would say."
The prince blinked, still calm.
"I don't understand."
Lin Yue's laugh broke out—sharp, ugly, almost insane.
"Oh, you don't understand?"
She lifted the ring in her palm.
Her hand trembled.
"This ring," she whispered, voice cracking,
"belongs to someone who bled for me."
The prince's eyes flicked to the ring.
Just once.
No recognition.
No pain.
No memory.
Lin Yue's breath hitched.
She looked at him like she wanted to rip the palace apart with her teeth.
"You're not my Shen Rui," she said, voice shaking.
"You're what the palace built to replace him."
The prince's smile softened.
Almost pitying.
"Princess," he murmured,
"there has never been anyone else."
Lin Yue's chest heaved.
Her fingers dug into her palm.
She could feel the ring cutting her skin.
Good.
Let it hurt.
Pain meant truth.
Lin Yue stepped closer until she was inches from him.
Her voice dropped into something lethal.
"Then I will carve him back into this world."
The prince's eyes widened slightly.
A crack in the perfect mask.
Not fear.
Calculation.
He took one step back.
Lin Yue didn't chase.
She didn't need to.
Because she saw it now.
Behind him, on the wall…
a new tapestry had been hung overnight.
It showed a princess.
A prince.
A perfect couple.
And under the prince's name—
the script was still wet.
Like it had been rewritten at dawn.
Lin Yue's stomach turned.
She whispered, barely audible:
"They replaced him."
The prince turned his head slightly.
"Princess?"
Lin Yue smiled.
Not sweet.
Not royal.
Not porcelain.
A smile like a knife.
"I remember," she said softly.
"That's your problem."
The prince's smile faltered.
And in that tiny falter—
Lin Yue felt it.
The palace wasn't done.
It was watching.
Waiting.
Testing her.
To see if she would accept the lie.
To see if she would let Shen Rui become nothing.
Lin Yue closed her fist around the blank ring.
She turned away from the fake prince.
And walked down the corridor, barefoot, blood on her knuckles, ring cutting into her skin—
like she was walking out of her own grave.
Behind her, the prince called gently:
"Princess Lian Yu."
"Where are you going?"
Lin Yue didn't look back.
Her voice carried cold and clear:
"To steal my prince back from the kingdom."
And then—
the palace lights flickered.
A whisper slid across the walls, too soft to be human:
*If you remember him… you will be punished.*
Lin Yue's steps didn't slow.
She whispered back, almost smiling:
"Try me."
END CHAPTER 28
Cliffhanger: A "fake" Shen Rui appears, wearing his name—while the real Shen Rui is erased.