The palace selection was still three days away, but tension simmered beneath the serene surface of the Xue estate. Servants bustled in every corridor, silks were tailored with trembling hands, and etiquette tutors were summoned as noble families across the capital prepared their daughters like offerings on a jade plate.
In the embroidery room, Xue Lian sat with perfect posture, her fingers gliding through ivory silk. A bloom of peonies unfurled beneath her needle, delicate and elegant—an artful deception.
To any onlooker, she was the very picture of virtue.
But beneath the calm curve of her lashes, her senses remained alert.
She was being watched.
"Miss," Hongyu whispered, peeking through the curtain. "Second Miss just ordered a maid to bring you tea. She said it's to 'clear your complexion before the selection.'"
Xue Lian's hand paused mid-stitch. Then, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
Already?
How impatient, Sister.
In her previous life, she had trusted Xue Yan's generous gifts—scented sachets, imported rouge, and fragrant teas—until her face had erupted in angry red welts days before the Emperor's first viewing. Her confidence had shattered, her chances ruined before she even stepped into the palace.
This time, she stood before fate with her eyes open.
"Bring it in," she said gently. "And prepare two more cups."
Hongyu blinked. "Miss…?"
"We'll share it." Xue Lian's smile was mild, her voice laced with syrup. "Sister Xue Yan must care deeply for my beauty to send such a thoughtful brew. It would be rude not to return the gesture."
Hongyu hesitated for only a moment, then nodded with growing awe. "Right away, Miss."
---
In the main hall, Xue Yan lounged against an embroidered couch, soaking in the praise of a visiting aunt from the Lu clan.
"Such elegance," the aunt gushed, holding Xue Yan's hands fondly. "With your beauty and refinement, the Emperor will surely notice you."
Xue Yan demurred with a flutter of her lashes. "Aunt overpraises me. I dare not hope for so much…"
A servant entered, bowing neatly.
"First Miss sends her regards," the girl announced, holding out a tray. "She asks Second Miss to share the tea she said you so kindly prepared. She was touched by your generosity and says it must be too fine to drink alone."
The color drained subtly from Xue Yan's face.
"…Tea?" she echoed.
"Yes! The one just sent to her embroidery room. She insisted we bring it straight to you."
There was a pause. Then Xue Yan laughed—bright, airy, forced.
"How very… thoughtful of her. Leave it on the table."
The servant obeyed and withdrew. Xue Yan's hands, perfectly manicured, curled into fists as they rested on her lap.
She hadn't expected such a fast counter. Nor one so bold.
She's testing me, Xue Yan realized grimly. That naïve rabbit has grown claws.
She would need to act more carefully. Clearly, her little sister was no longer the soft-spoken girl who once apologized for speaking too loudly.
---
Back in her courtyard, Xue Lian stood beneath the eaves, watching the sky shift to shades of burning gold and crimson. The sunset was vivid—too bright, too fleeting. Just like her old life.
"She didn't drink it," Hongyu murmured beside her.
"She didn't have to," Xue Lian replied. "Now she knows I'm no longer a piece on her chessboard."
A faint wind stirred her sleeves. She looked serene, unbothered, even gentle.
But her mind was sharper than any blade.
"She'll grow more desperate," she added softly. "And that's when people make mistakes."
Hongyu looked at her, nervous but in awe. "Miss… you've really changed."
"No," Xue Lian said, turning to face her. "I've simply remembered who I am."
And this time, she would never forget again.
---
That night, a hush fell over the estate as news quietly spread through the servants' quarters.
A young maid from the west wing had been dismissed without ceremony.
The official reason? "Tampering with food."
No one said which food. Or whi
ch young lady's.
But everyone understood the message.
The first warning had been delivered.