The rain fell in silver threads across the imperial courtyard, drumming against the polished stone like the heartbeat of the palace itself—slow, steady, and full of quiet menace. Feng Lianhua, trembling slightly, pressed her hands together, bowing so low that the hem of her plain cotton robe brushed the wet stone. Her small frame, soaked through by the downpour, was nothing more than a shadow among dozens of other hopeful girls, all waiting to be summoned into the emperor's palace.
A thousand thoughts surged in her mind—fear, hope, and a single, burning ambition. To survive here meant more than obedience. It meant reading every flicker of an eye, every twitch of a hand, every whisper that floated through the corridors. One mistake, one misstep, and death could be as quick as the drop of a poisoned hairpin.
The wind carried the scent of incense and lacquer, the heavy, intoxicating perfume of the palace. Lanterns swayed in the drizzle, casting long, trembling shadows that seemed to mock the trembling girls. Feng Lianhua's gaze drifted upward to the massive carved gates, their dark wood polished until it gleamed like black glass. Behind them waited the emperor—a man whose smile could kill and whose frown could send a hundred lives to the grave.
Her pulse quickened. She reminded herself: she was nobody. That had to change.
"Next!" a voice barked, sharp as a blade.
Feng Lianhua stepped forward. Her fingers brushed against the small jade pendant she wore around her neck—a gift from her mother, who had whispered the words that had guided her life:
"You are nothing. Let them see nothing. But remember, even nothing can become everything if it plays its part wisely."
Taking a slow, measured breath, she entered the gates. Inside, the courtyard opened into a vast hall of polished marble and gilted columns. The girls ahead of her knelt, heads bowed, eyes trembling with fear and excitement. She did the same, letting her gaze sweep subtly over the others. Some were tall and confident; some were delicate and frail. All, she noted, were focused on the wrong thing. They wanted attention—they wanted praise. She wanted survival. And power.
The imperial procession arrived then, and the air seemed to shiver as the emperor's carriage rolled over the stone courtyard. Guards flanked it in red and gold, halberds glinting under the gray light of the storm. When the doors opened, Emperor Zhao Rui stepped out, cloaked in black and gold silk, eyes like polished onyx that seemed to pierce through the very marrow of those present.
Feng Lianhua felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain. His gaze swept over the kneeling girls, resting briefly on each, measuring, weighing, assessing. When it landed on her… it lingered. Not approving. Not condemning. But curious.
Curiosity was dangerous. But she could use it.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Not a smile of innocence. Not a smile of hope. But a smile of calculation.
"Step forward," the emperor commanded.
The girl ahead of her stumbled, a broken note of fear in her voice as she answered. Feng Lianhua's pulse didn't quicken. She stepped forward gracefully, letting the rain run in small rivers over her hair and shoulders. Every step was deliberate, every motion a statement of control. Even soaked to the bone, she radiated a calmness that contrasted sharply with the trembling girls around her.
The emperor watched her approach. "What is your name?" His voice was low, smooth, but there was steel hidden in it, like a dagger beneath velvet.
"Feng Lianhua, Your Majesty," she replied, voice steady, even, and soft.
"And what is it that you wish?"
She inhaled slowly. Her mind raced, calculating, weighing. This was more than a question. This was a trap. An opening. A test. "To serve, Your Majesty… and to see the palace flourish under your reign."
The emperor's gaze sharpened. He said nothing, only tilted his head slightly, as if measuring the worth of her soul. Then, with a movement so smooth it seemed effortless, he turned to his advisors, whispering something that made their eyes widen.
The courtyard was silent but for the rain. Then the emperor's gaze returned to her. "Very well. Let her pass."
A ripple of whispers ran through the other girls. Shock, envy, fear. Feng Lianhua's lips curved just slightly. Step one, she thought. The palace already takes notice. Step one complete.
She didn't yet know who her enemies would be. She didn't yet know which whispers would betray her, which allies would be false, which lover would stab her heart before stabbing her back. But she did know one thing: she would not be a pawn. She would be a queen in the shadows.
As she followed the attendants deeper into the palace, past carved doors and tapestries that hid secret corridors, she felt the pulse of the empire settle into her bones. The palace was alive. Every shadow, every smile, every footstep could kill—or elevate her. And for the first time in her life, Feng Lianhua smiled with confidence, because she was ready to play.
Above them, the storm raged. Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the palace in a fleeting, harsh brilliance. Feng Lianhua's reflection caught in the wet marble. She looked… nothing special. A servant's daughter in a wet robe, insignificant as dust. Yet behind her calm eyes, the fire burned. She would not only survive the palace. She would rule it.
And somewhere in the dark corners of the hall, a shadow moved, watching her. A plan had already begun. A war had already started. The palace had just met its new enemy.