Poisoned wine
Xia Yuqing leaned her head against the cold wall, her gaze fixed on the blue sky beyond the bars. The wind wove through the rustling trees, carrying with it the songs of birds—a sound of freedom.
A flicker of longing passed through her eyes. She curled her fingers, feeling the iron chains bite into her wrists. How long had she been here? Days? Weeks? She had long since lost count.
Suddenly, the measured sound of footsteps echoed through the prison corridor—steady, powerful, unhurried. She knew that walk. It could only belong to one person.
The emperor.
He stepped out from the shadows, each movement effortless and commanding, like a divine being born to be worshiped. His golden robes shimmered under the faint light, his ornate crown was a declaration of his power, but it was his face that drew her attention.
A masterpiece of divine craftsmanship, sharp, unreadable. And then, there were his eyes, phoenix-shaped, dark, and piercing. Eyes that could strip a soul bare. Cold yet smiling. Calm yet merciless. Empty, as though nothing in this world could touch him.
Seeing him, Xia Yuqing instinctively lowered her head. She bowed as the chains around her hands and feet rattled and clicked with her movements. Their sound echoed in the stillness of the prison walls.
"Master," she murmured, her voice calm.
He did not respond. He remained still, his dark gaze locked onto her. Xia Yuqing held her position, head bowed in surrender, her breathing even and her heart steady. Finally, he moved. His long sleeves swayed as he extended a small cup toward her.
"Drink this."
Hearing his command, she lifted her head and saw a small porcelain cup. The scent of wine, rich and fragrant, mixed with something else—something faint but unmistakable.
Poison.
Though it was masked well, it could not miss her shape sense of smell. With no emotion on her face, no hesitation, she reached over to take the cup from his hand and lifted it toward her lips. Just as she was about to drink it, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
Xia Yuqing looked at him. For the first time, the void in his eyes cracked. A thousand emotions flickered in them, some she recognized, others she could not name. For the first time, his eyes were not empty. They held something—her.
"That is poison," he said, his voice taut, fingers tightening around her wrist.
She nodded, her expression unchanging. Even in the face of death, there was no fear, no anger, no sorrow. She was still as a statue, carved from wax, incapable of human emotion. His grip tightened further, as if demanding something from her—an answer, a reaction. Something more than silent acceptance.
"Master," she whispered slowly. "My life, my death.... are yours to command."
His expression darkened. His grip on her wrist tightened to the point where it was almost about to break. The tension in the air thickened. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words.
Then, suddenly, he let go.
Xia Yuqing raised the cup once more. This time, there was no interruption. Under his cold gaze, she finished the entire cup as the liquid burned down her throat. Within seconds, a strong fire burned down her veins, followed by a chilling numbness.
The porcelain cup slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. She saw the emperor stepping forward, but his face was a blur. She saw his lips moving but no sound reached her ear.
Pain shot through her body as everything around her blurred. Her body swayed, and the chains clinked as she fell forward. And then, there was darkness.
***
A loud gasp tore from her lips. Xia Yuqing's eyes snapped open, her chest heaving. The imperial prison was gone. The emperor had vanished. The stench of blood was replaced by something sterile, sharp, and artificial. A steady beeping of a machine reached her ears. Fluorescent lights hummed above her, casting a glow on white walls. She frowned, blinking against the brightness. An IV tube was taped to the back of her hand. Her left leg was wrapped in bandages.Where was she?
She pursed her lips as the memories began to stream in. The steamed bun. The road. The black car. Her accident. She exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. "Just great," she muttered under her breath. "First, I got slapped after coming into this world, and now this accident..."
Still, relief filled her chest. This was nothing compared to the nightmare she had just endured. That world, the prison, the emperor, the poison was gone. Just a dream. A nightmare. She had almost believed her transmigration was an illusion, but no—this world was real.
And she was here. In this world, alive and grateful.
But how did she get to the hospital?
As if to answer her unspoken question, the door swung open and a woman stepped inside. Beautiful, with almond-shaped eyes and dark, wavy hair cascading down her back. The moment their gazes met, her eyes widened in shock.
"Oh. You're awake," she said, stepping forward. Then, she paused, her expression shifting. Her gaze sharpened. "Wait... you're dead."
Xia Yuqing's heart skipped a beat. What?
The woman hurried forward, her expression shifting too fast to follow—confusion, shock, something unreadable, and then something closer to disbelief. She leaned in, so close that Xia Yuqing could see her pupils dilate. She was observing, staring as if she was trying to look through her soul.
Xia Yuqing instinctively pulled back, but the woman's hand shot out, gripping her wrist. "Don't move."
Seconds passed in thick silence. The woman stared at her, unblinking. Xia Yuqing's heart raced faster and her confusion deepened. Who was this woman? And why was she staring at her like that?
"Who are you?" Xia Yuqing asked.But, the woman didn't answer. Instead, she quickly let go of her wrist and stepped back as if she had seen something impossible. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened. "Oh my God," she whispered dramatically.
"You really are dead!"