luwanda_k2

In the heart of the Imperial City, where power is won through whispers and lost with a single misstep, Ling Xuefeng reigns over the political battlefield. A woman of unmatched cunning and ambition, she has maneuvered her way into the highest echelons of power—yet enemies lurk in every shadow.

As Crown Prince Zhao Wuyuan struggles to maintain his grip on the throne, and General Wei Jian seeks to restore honor to the empire, a deadly game of deception and alliances unfolds. But when the naive yet ambitious Shen Rui, son of the Imperial Chancellor, finds himself ensnared in Ling Xuefeng’s web, the balance of power shifts dangerously.

With spies masquerading as allies and blades hidden behind smiles, the Imperial Court becomes a battleground where survival means mastering the art of manipulation. As the storm rages, the question remains—who will be left standing when the final move is made?

The Phantom Phoenix

The first sign of an enemy worth fearing was not their sword, nor their words, but the way they moved within the shadows—seamlessly, as if they belonged there.

She had ruled the court with whispers and invisible strings, pulling the fates of men like an unseen puppeteer. But tonight, for the first time in years, she sensed another hand reaching for the same strings.

Meilin arrived with a quiet urgency, bowing her head. "Lady Ling, there is someone new."

Xuefeng arched a brow, her interest piqued. "New?"

"A player we have not accounted for. They are not a reckless assassin or a desperate minister. They move with precision, with knowledge... almost as if they have studied you."

A slow smile curved Xuefeng's lips. "Then they have already made their first mistake."

Meilin hesitated. "Lady Ling, they are not like the others. They do not act in blind ambition or misplaced loyalty. They are careful. Calculated."

"Good," Xuefeng murmured, turning back to the cityscape beyond her window. "That means they are worth my attention."

There were few who could navigate the court without leaving traces. Even fewer who could challenge her without falling into one of her traps. And yet, this one had not only survived but had begun to move against her.

"Do we know their name?" Xuefeng asked.

Meilin exhaled. "Lady Ling... they call themselves Yuwen Zhi."

A name that carried weight, history, and danger.

"So they finally send a shadow to match my own," she mused, her amusement never touching her eyes. "And what do we know of Yuwen Zhi?"

"They are methodical. They do not act out of hatred or revenge, but out of strategy. They have removed two of our contacts in the court without raising suspicion. They are not trying to destroy you, my lady." Meilin hesitated. "They are trying to become you."

Xuefeng tilted her head slightly. "How fascinating."

This was no mere opponent. This was a reflection of herself—sharp, precise, and ruthless. But reflections, no matter how perfect, were still imitations.

"They think they know me," Xuefeng murmured. "They have seen my methods, studied my rise. But they have yet to see what I become when cornered."

Meilin nodded. "What are your orders?"

Xuefeng smiled, dark and knowing. "Let them believe they are winning. Let them come closer."

Her eyes gleamed as she turned back to the window.

"And when they do, I will remind them—there is only one Ling Xuefeng."

A Rival Who Is Her Mirror