Prince Zhen's hurried footsteps echoed down the empty corridors as he raced toward the inner chambers. His heart pounded with urgency and fear—a terrible premonition had gnawed at him all night. The air was heavy, thick with something ominous he couldn't quite name. His men had whispered about accusations of treason against the Yan family, but he had refused to believe it.
But now, as he neared the quiet room, dread pooled within him.
Bursting through the doors, he stumbled to a stop, his gaze falling upon a frail, lifeless figure on the floor. It was Yanli. The brilliant light that once shone in her eyes was now extinguished, her pale face cold and expressionless. Her slender fingers were clenched, frozen in a last, desperate attempt to hold onto life.
"No… no!" His voice broke, and he dropped to his knees beside her. Trembling hands reached for her, but she was already gone, beyond his touch, beyond his voice. The weight of her absence was crushing, pressing down on him with unbearable force. Zhen gently cradled her face, pressing his forehead against hers, feeling only the cold stillness that had taken her. The woman he had loved in silence, from afar, was gone.
Unseen, Yanli's spirit lingered. She felt the world through a haze, her mind scattered, her soul floating between realms. She watched as Prince Zhen's face contorted with grief, and she was confused because she had never spoken to him before. So why was he crying as if he has lost something important, the had no relationship so he couldn't comprehend what he's doing.
As the minutes passed, Zhen's tears dried, and something dark settled over him—a calm fury that cut through his sorrow. He rose slowly, his gaze hardened and unyielding, a new fire igniting within him. "Those who did this to you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with wrath, "will pay with their lives."
He strode down the halls, his steps silent yet filled with purpose. Yanli followed, her spirit pulled after him, as if tethered to him even in dea
Within hours, Zhen found himself standing before Prince Hanyu and Consort Mei, who were reveling in the palace's inner chambers. The faint sounds of their laughter died away as Zhen appeared in the doorway, his gaze cold and merciless.
"Prince Zhen?" Hanyu sneered, his voice laced with false innocence. "What brings you here at this hour?"
But Zhen said nothing, his silence more ominous than any words. In a flash, he unsheathed his blade, and with a deadly precision, struck Hanyu across the chest. Hanyu stumbled backward, shock and horror written across his face as he crumpled to the ground, blood spreading over the polished floor.
Consort Mei screamed, stumbling back in terror, but Zhen was relentless. "For Yanli," he said, his voice like steel, before driving his blade into Mei, silencing her forever. His fury knew no bounds as he sought out every advisor, guard, and servant who had colluded with Hanyu and Mei, sparing none. The halls ran red with the vengeance he wrought for the woman he had loved but could never save.
Yanli's spirit watched, torn between sorrow and gratitude, as Zhen delivered justice to those who had destroyed her and her family. She saw, perhaps for the first time, the depths of his love, hidden beneath his stoic exterior all these years. Each step he took in his rampage left a trail of blood, each strike a silent tribute to her memories.
Finally, with the last of her killers defeated, Prince Zhen returned to where Yanli's body lay. He knelt beside her once more, his own strength now wavering. His blade, still slick with blood, dropped from his hand as he reached out to hold her one last time.
"Yanli," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Forgive me… for not protecting you." He brushed a hand over her hair, his touch tender, full of regret. "In this life, I failed you. But in the next…" His voice trailed off as he lifted a vial to his lips—a poison he had kept hidden for this moment.
As he drank, his body grew weaker, his breathing shallow. "Let us be buried together," he whispered to the empty room. "In the next life… I will love you without restraint."
As his life faded, Yanli's spirit cried out, wanting to reach him, to somehow break through the veil that separated them. But her hands passed through him like mist. She watched in helpless agony as he lay down beside her, his hand gently resting on hers, as though he could still feel her warmth. A final breath left his lips, and he stilled, his face finally at peace.