The next morning, the light of dawn seeped through the thin curtains. Qin Yufei was already sat before her zither in Shen Wei's study. Her fingers poised above the strings. The air was still, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside, in the garden, but her heart felt anything but calm.

She had woken earlier than usual, her restless sleep offering little comfort. The confrontation from the previous night played over and over in her mind—Bai Shengli's piercing gaze, his voice filled with anger and something else she never saw in him before. It tangled in her thoughts like an invisible thread, pulling at her emotions with every memory.

Twang, twang.

She exhaled, trying to shake it off, and let her fingers glide over the zither's strings. The first notes echoed in the room. But just as the melody began, her fingers faltered. A discordant sound broke the harmony, making her wince. She sighed, adjusting her posture and starting again.

She scolded herself silently. She was supposed to have a class with Shen Wei before lunch—something she usually looked forward to. His teachings were sharp, precise, and sometimes very critical, but she had learned more from him in a few weeks than she had in years. Today, however, her mind refused to cooperate.

She tried again. This time, her fingers stumbled over a familiar passage, the notes jarring and uneven. Frustrated, she pulled her hands back, staring at the strings as if they were to blame. Her chest felt tight, a knot of emotions she couldn't untangle.

Recalling Bai Shengli's face in the crowd, the way he'd looked at her—not just with anger, but with something deeper, was something that made her scared.

She rested her hands on her lap, her gaze distant. She hated how easily she was affected by this, even after being played by her sister. He had married another now, yet here she was, unable to play a simple melody because of the way he looked at her. As if she was responsible of everything...

After a long pause, she leaned forward again, her fingers hesitating over the strings. This time, she didn't try to force the piece Shen Wei had assigned her. Instead, she let her emotions guide her, her hands moving almost on their own. The melody that emerged was raw, soft, filled with nothing but her doubts. It wasn't perfect, but it was at least honest.

She didn't know how long she played, lost in the music, until the faint sound of footsteps outside her room pulled her back. She straightened instinctively, wiping away the faint moisture from the corners of her eyes.

The doors opened. Shen Wei's calm voice followed.

"It's almost time. Are you ready for the lesson?"

Yufei took a deep breath, gathering herself before answering,

"Yes, I was practicing."

The lesson began in the room, the only sound the faint hum of the zither's strings as Qin Yufei tried—unsuccessfully—to regain her focus. Her fingers moved stiffly, the notes uneven and brittle, lacking the fluid grace Shen Wei always asked her to show. Frustration welled up in her chest for the first time in a while, mingling with the restless thoughts she couldn't shake off.

Just as her fingers stumbled again, pressing down too hard on the strings, a hand appeared over hers—firm, cool, and steady. She froze, her breath catching slightly.

Shen Wei stood beside her, his sharp gaze lowered to where their hands touched. His long fingers curled gently around hers, in a corrective gesture, yet the simple contact sent a ripple through her already fragile composure.

"If you keep practicing like this," he said quietly, his tone stern, "you'll hurt your fingers again."

His thumb brushed lightly against the side of her hand, inspecting the faint redness blooming near the joint where she'd pressed too hard. His brows furrowed slightly.

"I expected some progress by now, but clearly, I was mistaken."

Yufei felt her face warm, from embarrassment alone. She pulled her hand back gently, resting it on her lap, her gaze dropping to avoid his piercing eyes.

Shen Wei didn't press further. Instead, he turned away, moving to his desk with his usual grace. He sat, his robes folding neatly around him as he leaned slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest. His dark eyes lingered on her, studying her in that way he often did—sharp, observant, as if he could see through the layers she tried to keep hidden.

After a brief silence, he spoke again, his voice softer but laced with casual critique.

"It's strange," he said, his gaze flickering to her simple white dress, "after seeing you wear colors at the festival... this feels almost strange to see you in your usual white dress again."

His fingers tapped idly against the armrest, his expression unreadable.

"As if you've hidden behind your veil again."

Yufei's heart gave a small, unsteady thump.

She didn't know how to respond to that. Was it a criticism? She traced the hem of her sleeve, her mind flashing back to the festival.

"It's just the way I dress," she muttered, her voice quieter than she intended.

Shen Wei's lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but the ghost of one, as if amused by her answer.

"Is it how you should, though?" he replied softly, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer before glancing down at the book on his desk.

The room felt heavier again. Yufei swallowed, her fingers itching to return to the zither, but her heart was no longer in the music.

It was somewhere else—caught between the strings and the sharp gaze of the teacher sitting across from her.

Qin Yufei still seated, her fingers were lightly grazing the strings of the zither, feeling the faint vibrations beneath her touch. The words Shen Wei had just said lingered in the air, wrapping around her like invisible threads. She stole a glance at him, seated with effortless grace at his desk, his sharp features softened slightly by the pale morning light.

Gathering her thoughts, she spoke, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.

"Shifu," she began with hesitation, "could you still... watch me play for a while?"

Shen Wei's dark eyes lifted from the book he'd just started reading, meeting hers with that same piercing gaze. He didn't respond immediately. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he set the book aside and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

"Very well," he said, his tone neutral. "Go on."

Yufei adjusted her posture, straightening her back and positioning her hands. She took a slow breath, trying to steady her restless mind, then let her fingers glide over the strings, coaxing out the familiar melody she had been struggling with all morning. The notes flowed, sometimes smooth, sometimes hesitant, like ripples disturbed by the wind.

As she played, after a while, she could feel his gaze on her, not harsh, but unrelenting, like the steady pressure of water against stone. His presence made her more aware of every slip, every uneven note.

When she finally finished, the last note fading into the room, she looked up at him expectantly.

Shen Wei remained silent for a beat, then uncrossed his arms, his elbows resting on the desk.

"Your posture was good at the start," he said, his voice calm and analytical, "but you lost focus midway. Your fingers tensed, especially here near the end, which disrupted the flow of the melody. Music is not just about striking the right notes; it's about continuity. You can't let your mind drift."

Yufei bit the inside of her cheek, nodding quietly.

"But," he continued, his tone shifting ever so slightly, "your ear for rhythm has improved. You corrected your mistakes quickly without losing the pace entirely."

She blinked, surprised by the faint trace of approval buried in his critique. Shen Wei was renowned for his zither skills across the empire, his mastery so revered that even nobles wanted to ask for his guidance. However, rumors said he was merciless with his students. So exacting that many gave up within weeks, unable to withstand his unyielding standards. He hadn't taken on a student in years.

Yet here she was, sitting in front of him, her heart pounding with both frustration and joy.

Of course, she didn't know that Shen Wei had never been this restrained with his critiques before. His past students had faced sharp, cutting words that left no room for comfort. But with her, the sharpness dulled into something more measured, more patient—though he himself wasn't sure why.

To Yufei, however, he still seemed impossibly difficult to please.

She exhaled softly, her fingers brushing the strings again.

"I thought I was doing better," she murmured, a hint of frustration slipping through her usually composed tone.

Shen Wei arched an eyebrow.

"You are. I said so, didn't I?"

His straightforwardness caught her off guard. She blinked, then let out a soft, breathless laugh—a sound so light and unexpected that even Shen Wei's expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if to mask whatever flicker had crossed his mind.

"I'll just keep practicing, then," she said, glancing down at the zither, her smile faint but genuine.

Shen Wei stood, smoothing the folds of his robe, and moved closer, standing beside her once more. His fingers brushed lightly over the strings, adjusting her hand with the same careful precision as before, before going back to his desk.

"Yes," he replied quietly, his voice lower now, almost softer. "Keep practicing."

And for once, the room felt less heavy—filled not with perfection's weight, but with the quiet, growing thread of something else entirely.

Qin Yufei's fingers lingered on the zither strings, the faint vibrations fading as the final note of their lesson drifted into silence. She exhaled slowly, feeling the subtle ache in her fingertips. Turning slightly, she glanced at Shen Wei, who was already gathering the scattered books on his desk, his movements unhurried.

"Shifu," she called softly, her voice hesitating.

Shen Wei paused, one hand resting lightly on a scroll as he tilted his head slightly, indicating she had his attention.

"I will practice harder," she said earnestly, her fingers curling slightly against the wooden edge of the zither. "I'll make sure not to disappoint you next time."

His gaze flicked toward her, unreadable as always, but there was the faintest nod of acknowledgment—a silent acceptance of her promise.

The room grew quiet again, filled only with the faint rustle of parchment. But Yufei's heart wasn't settled. There was something else lingering on the edge of her thoughts, a question she'd been holding back since the festival. She hesitated, debating whether to speak, then finally gathered the courage.

"Shifu," she began again, her tone more cautious this time, "about... the other night."

Shen Wei didn't look up immediately, but she noticed the subtle pause in his movements. She continued quickly, trying to sound casual, though the words felt heavier than she intended.

"Will you not have problems because of how you acted with... the Crown Prince?"

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then, to her surprise, Shen Wei let out a short, dry laugh—a sound rare enough to catch her off guard. It wasn't loud, more of a quiet exhale, but it held a trace of amusement.

"Problems?" he repeated, finally turning to face her fully. His sharp eyes glinted with something between irony and indifference. "Why would I have problems?"

Yufei blinked, slightly thrown off by his reaction. She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued, his tone laced with an effortless confidence that made her question why she'd worried in the first place.

"The Emperor doesn't concern himself with trivial matters like this," Shen Wei said simply, adjusting his sleeve. "And even if he did, I haven't done anything that bad to Bai Shengli."

Yufei stared at him, trying to process how easily he dismissed something that had kept her awake all night. To Shen Wei, it was nothing more than a fleeting annoyance.

She felt her lips curve into a small, almost incredulous smile.

The casual confidence in his voice eased the tension from her chest. She shook her head, her heart still beating a little too fast.

She said quietly, "I'm glad then."

Shen Wei didn't respond this time, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned back to his desk.

"I expect some improvements before tomorrow," he said after a while, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface of his desk.

"There's something I intend to give you."

Yufei blinked, her heart skipping a beat.

"Something to give me?" she echoed softly, surprise flickering in her eyes.

But Shen Wei said nothing more, returning his attention to the scrolls, leaving her to stew in curiosity. Not wanting to press further, Yufei rose from her seat, bowing slightly.

"I will do my best, Shifu," she promised, her voice steadier than the fluttering in her chest.

She left his study, the door closing softly behind her. As she made her way back to her room, her mind raced with thoughts of what he could possibly intend to give her. A strange warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading like ripples in water. Hugging her zither tightly against her chest, she could feel the faint thrum of her own heartbeat beneath the smooth wood.

Once inside her room, she sat at her table. She ran her fingers lightly over the strings of the zither, her resolve firm. Determination sparked within her, mingling with the warmth his words had ignited. She began to practice, her fingers dancing over the strings with newfound energy.

Hours passed unnoticed. Yufei didn't pause once. She had even forgotten to eat lunch, too absorbed in her practice, driven by the thought of Shen Wei's expectations—and the mysterious promise of tomorrow.

✤

That same day, Bai Shengli woke up drenched in sweat, emerging from an awful night of restless sleep. The midday sun filtered through the heavy curtains of his bed, but the dull ache in his head reminded him that he was still not sober. His body felt sluggish, weighed down by the countless cups of wine he drank.

He had spent the entire night drinking until he fainted, his thoughts consumed by a burning rage—rage at Shen Wei, rage at himself, and an unrelenting hatred for Qin Yuli. It was because of her that his life had spiraled into this chaos. The mere thought of her tightened his chest with bitterness, the memory of her deceit lingering like a foul taste he couldn't wash away.

Unable to escape the storm of emotions churning inside him, Bai Shengli reached out with trembling fingers, grabbing his wine jar once more. The bitter liquid burned down his throat, but it did nothing to quench the fire within. Instead, it fanned the flames, drowning him further in his fury and despair.

As if Bai Shengli's troubles weren't enough, a servant's hesitant voice pierced the thick haze of his drunken stupor.

"Your Highness, someone has come to visit you."

His head throbbed. He was about to snap, his voice sharp with rage,

"I refuse any visitors!" But the servant's next words stopped him cold.

"Your Highness... it is the Royal Concubine. She insists on seeing you."

His eyes darkened instantly, black with the fury that had been simmering within him for days. Perfect. She had come at just the right time—when his anger was raw, and his patience nonexistent.

"Let her in," he growled, his voice low.

Bai Shengli didn't bother to compose himself. He welcomed the rage, letting it fuel him as he reached for the nearly empty wine jar beside him, taking another bitter gulp. His heart pounded from the deep, festering hatred he couldn't suppress.

Qin Yuli stepped into the dimly lit room, her features softened by concern. Bai Shengli sat slumped against the cushions, his face flushed and eyes glazed, the scent of alcohol heavy in the air. She had come to spend time with him, hoping to ease the tension between them, but the sight of him in this state made her pause.

"Your Highness," she began softly, her voice laced with feigned sweetness, "you seem unwell. Perhaps you should rest and I should come another day."

Bai Shengli lifted his gaze to her, the fire in his eyes clouded by drunken rage. He didn't answer immediately, instead reaching for the wine jar again, his hands shaking slightly.

Qin Yuli stepped forward, her gaze softening with a false gentleness.

"What happened? Why have you been drinking so much?" She knelt beside him, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

But in an instant, Bai Shengli slapped her across the face with a force that sent her sprawling to the ground. The shock of it hit her before the sting did. She blinked rapidly, her hand flying to her cheek, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

For a long moment, the room was eerily still. She lay there, eyes wide, her breath shallow. Slowly, she rose to her knees, her voice trembling.

"Wh—what did I do wrong?"

Her voice was soft, almost pleading, as she pretended to fight back tears. Bai Shengli's laughter, harsh and bitter, rang out like a knife slicing through the air.

"Do you really have the nerve to ask that, Qin Yuli?" he spat, his voice raw with fury. "After everything you've done, you still have the audacity to play innocent?"

Qin Yuli froze, her face pale as she searched his expression for any sign of a joke. But there was none. His eyes were dark with venom, his body tense as he leaned forward.

"I know what you did," he snarled. "You spiked my wine, didn't you? You thought you could poison me and get away with it."

The accusation hit her like a bolt of lightning. Her heart raced, and she stood quickly, shaking her head in denial.

"No, Your Highness, I didn't—"— Don't lie to me!" he bellowed, his rage growing.

He stood up abruptly, towering over her as she backed away, her mind scrambling for a defense.

Qin Yuli's eyes darted nervously, her hands trembling slightly.

"I swear, I had nothing to do with it. Why would I harm you? For what purpose?"

Bai Shengli's glare was sharp, his voice low and deadly.

"I don't care if you're playing the innocent fool or if you're too proud to admit it, but I know what you did. And you'll regret it."

Qin Yuli could feel her heart pounding, but she forced herself to remain composed, her back straight.

"Your Highness, I swear I did not—"— I know you did," Bai Shengli interrupted, his face contorted with fury.

"You think you can manipulate me? But you will not get away with that."

The air between them was thick with tension, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Qin Yuli's mind raced, trying to come up with something that would convince him, but nothing seemed to be working.

Bai Shengli's lips then twisted into a cold, cruel smile as he watched Qin Yuli's expression shift from defiance to something more vulnerable, something he could now taste in the air: fear.

"I will make your life a living hell, Qin Yuli," he said, his voice low and venomous, each word deliberate as he took a step closer to her. "Everything you've done, every move you've made, it will all come back to haunt you. You thought I would marry you? You truly believed that your little game would work? You'll regret ever thinking you could replace your sister."

Qin Yuli's heart began to race. She could feel the weight of his gaze. Her mouth went dry, the feigned calmness she had tried so hard to maintain now slipping through her fingers. She backed away slowly, but there was nowhere to run.

Bai Shengli stepped forward, closing the distance between them with an air of cold finality. His presence felt suffocating, and the room seemed to shrink around them. He reached out and grabbed her chin with a force that sent a jolt of panic through her.

His fingers dug into her skin, and he tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Do you hear me?" His voice was an icy whisper, the words so chilling that they sent a shiver down her spine. "You will wish you were dead before I am done with you."

The intensity in his gaze was enough to freeze her to the spot. Her breath caught in her throat again, and for the first time in her life, Qin Yuli felt utterly powerless.

"You," he continued, his voice a quiet, menacing promise, "will regret every single thing you've done to me. I will ruin you in ways you can't even imagine. And when it's over, you will beg me for mercy."

Qin Yuli's eyes widened as he loomed over her, the threat so real, so palpable, that she couldn't breathe. Every inch of her body screamed to run, but she was paralyzed, unable to move under the weight of his words. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Bai Shengli released her chin with a final, almost casual push, his gaze never leaving hers as he stepped back. He turned away, but the air between them still crackled with the dangerous tension of his promise.

"You wanted to play games with me," he muttered to himself, almost toying with the thought. "Now, you'll learn just how far those games can go."

Qin Yuli stood there, trembling, her legs weak beneath her. Her mind raced, but for once, she couldn't think clearly. The chilling words he had spoken echoed in her ears, but she had to think of something. Quick!

Bai Shengli staggered slightly, the effects of the alcohol having taken full control of his senses. His face was flushed with rage, his movements erratic, but his words—each one dripping with anger—came out with unsettling clarity. He took another unsteady step toward Qin Yuli, his breath hot with the stench of wine, his eyes wide and feverish.

"You want to be my wife?" he spat, his words slurring but the venom behind them still clear. "Then you will learn what it means to be nothing. I will confine you to your pavilion, where you will never see the light of freedom again. You will be nothing more than a royal concubine in name—just a title, nothing more."

His voice grew more forceful, his hand rising to gesture as though he could physically control her every move.

"I'll have the servants treat you as you deserve. You'll only get stale food, scraps, leftovers, and they'll do worse. I'll make sure you are humiliated in every way possible."

Qin Yuli's blood ran cold, and she instinctively moved back, still on her knees, but Bai Shengli was relentless. He moved closer, his face twisted with the twisted satisfaction of his own power.

"I'll visit you every day, and I'll make sure you feel the weight of your humiliation. I'll come to you, and I'll make your life miserable. I won't leave you a moment of peace, not until I take my last breath."

His words, soaked in bitterness and cruel intent, stung more than the slap he had delivered earlier. Her chest tightened, and her throat closed up, no longer able to form words to defend herself. She could barely breathe, the suffocating weight of his threats pressing down on her.

"You'll have no time to rest," he continued, his voice growing more venomous, more twisted.

Bai Shengli leaned in closer, and his voice dropped to a whisper so low it was almost a hiss.

"And when you beg me to stop, when you crawl to me and plead for mercy, I will remind you I am the one who holds all the power." He paused, his gaze locking onto hers with a terrifying intensity.

Tears streamed down Qin Yuli's face, her sobs trembling through her chest as she finally felt the full weight of Bai Shengli's fury crash down on her. She had never imagined that the man before her, the one she had once thought of as a mere obstacle, could be able to harbor so much hatred. She had thought her plans would go smoother, that she could control the situation with just enough manipulation and charm. But now, she realized how wrong she had been.

Her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, her sobs wracking her body. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to the ground in a desperate, futile attempt to hold onto her dignity. But... now that she had started all of this, it was too late to stop. She had to give it her all. Even if she was not sure she would succeed, she had to try. After all, she did not plan all of this alone.

"Please," she cried, her voice shaking with fear and regret. "Please, Your Highness... forgive me... I didn't mean it... I... I was forced to do this!"

Her words were ragged, barely coherent through her tears, but she screamed them nonetheless, hoping for any mercy he could offer. Anything. The sharp pain in her scalp where he had grabbed her hair earlier was still fresh.

Bai Shengli was still standing there, and something flickered in his gaze. He looked at her with disdain, and then, almost lazily, he chuckled darkly before kneeling on one knee, gripping her hair.

"A wench begging for mercy," he sneered, the sound of his laughter cruel. "I would believe anything before I believe anything you say."

She knew he wasn't going to believe her. He hated her too much. But it was the only thing she could try.

With a desperate cry, she screamed again, her voice hoarse and strained, "It was Shen Wei! Shen Wei forced me to do this! He... he manipulated me! He made me poison your wine!"

The room fell completely still again. Bai Shengli froze, his grip on her hair tightening for just a fraction of a second before he abruptly released it, causing her to stumble forward, almost collapsing against the floor.

His expression shifted when he stood up. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his breath hitched. It seemed to work.

Qin Yuli, her head still pressed to the ground, dared not look up. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced the words out, she knew he could get him with Shen Wei's name.

"He... he threatened me... forced my hand in this."

"You are lying," he said, his voice low and dangerous, but there was something different in his tone now, a hint of uncertainty. "Shen Wei? You expect me to believe that? He would never be so stupid."

Qin Yuli pressed her forehead against the cold stone floor, not daring to raise her head.

"I swear, Your Highness. I am telling you the truth. It was all Shen Wei's plan. I... I never wanted this to happen. He told me he would kill me if I did not obey."

Qin Yuli, though still trembling, dared to breathe a sigh of relief. Would she really be able to convince him?