The Princess Who Ran Away from Fate

In the world of Shenzhouya, the 'Graceful Divine Land,' lies a hidden realm known as the 'Valley of a Hundred Flowers,' a land awash in vibrant hues and sweet fragrances, where the enchanting lotus spirit, Princess Chen Mei-Ling, dwelt. Wherever she walked, petals bloomed at her feet; her laughter chimed just like wind-bells on a summer breeze. Though three millennia old, Mei-Ling retained the restless spirit of spring—mischievous, kind-hearted, intelligent, and brave.

She was the beloved youngest daughter of Emperor Chen Mingyu. Of his many daughters, it was Mei-Ling who captured his heart the most—his pride, his joy, his wild little lotus.

Yet the realm was bound by an ancient pact, one that demanded a daughter of royal blood be offered in marriage to preserve peace and unity among the lands. Though Mingyu had many daughters, it was Mei-Ling—graced with ethereal beauty, fierce spirit, and the rare gift of lotus-born magic—who captured the gaze of the Demon Emperor, Wu Fenglian, sovereign of the Shadowed Realms.

Reluctantly, and with a heart heavy with sorrow, Mingyu agreed to give his most cherished daughter's hand to the demon ruler—a sacrifice demanded by duty, not desire.

Mei-Ling's blood ran cold the moment she heard the news. Fenglian—cold, cruel, and terrifying—was eager to claim her, not for love, but for possession: to break her spirit and bend her kingdom. The mere thought sent shivers crawling down her spine.

"I'm a peace treaty now?"

she scoffed bitterly to her maid, Zhao Jingfei.

"Lovely. Perhaps they'll carve my face on a coin next—Property of Fenglian," she added with dry sarcasm.

"You'd still be the prettiest coin," Jingfei deadpanned, folding laundry without looking up.

Mei-Ling's fists clenched.

"No. I refuse to be his... anything," she declared.

Yet, as the ink dried on the marriage scroll—etched with dark runes and binding oaths—Mei-Ling knew her father had signed her into a gilded prison. Fenglian was already gloating, parading his "prize" before the demonic courts.

"He says he adores you, Princess," Jingfei reported in a tone as dry as the desert wind.

"Apparently, you'll make a lovely crown jewel in his collection."

"Oh, wonderful," Mei-Ling sneered as she flopped onto a pile of silken cushions.

"What next? He'll mount me over his throne?"

"Probably," Jingfei smirked. "He strikes me as the type who bathes in milk and entitlement."

Mei-Ling glared at the infernal marriage contract.

"If I have to marry that... thing, I swear I'll throw myself into the Void."

"Shall I pack your Void bag, or are we traveling light?" Jingfei quipped, raising a brow.

That night, while the moon wept silver tears across the sky, Mei-Ling made her true choice.

"I'm done being their pawn... their peace offering," she whispered into the night.

"I'll run so far no one will ever find me. Somewhere no one knows my name... where I can live as I please, without bonds, without fate clawing at my heels."

With that, the princess no longer waited for anyone's permission. She would write her own ending.

With her loyal white tiger, Bai Gui, stalking silently at her side, Mei-Ling crept into the sacred vault deep beneath the palace where no light dared linger. There it sat—an ancient rune humming with untamed power, its surface etched with the markings of an ancient oak tree long forgotten by time.

Her only way out.

Mei-Ling stared at it, heart pounding.

"Father once told me... this rune is a pathway to another world," she whispered, almost to herself.

"But no one knows where. All its secrets were lost to time... and no one's even sure it still works."

A bitter smile ghosted her lips.

"But I have to try."

She ran trembling fingers over the rune's worn surface, tracing the old oak engraving like a farewell. Then, with a soft breath, she pressed her forehead to the rune, caressing it like a long-lost lover.

"I'm not doing this for duty... not for them... not anymore," she vowed.

The air went still, thick with the weight of her choice. For a breathless moment, the world appeared to hold its breath. Then suddenly—the rune flared, pulsing a brilliant green, as if it had heard and agreed.

"Princess?" Jingfei's voice rang out, panicked, from the shadows.

"Tell me you're not seriously—"

"Oh, I'm seriously," Mei-Ling grinned, eyes gleaming with reckless defiance.

"Fenglian... you can marry yourself."

Without another word, Mei-Ling seized the rune. Her magic, wild and desperate, flooded the chamber—twisting through the ancient symbols, feeding off her will laced with rage and a touch of petty revenge.

The ground cracked. The sky above shuddered. A portal ripped open with a deafening roar, its sound shrieking like a furious dragon unchained.

Mei-Ling stood at the edge, the wind whipping through her hair as she cast one last glance back—at the palace, the kingdom, the life chosen for her.

"No arranged marriages. No emperors. No thrones. I'm done."

With a wild laugh, light and tasting of freedom, she leapt into the unknown.

"Wait—damn it, Princess! You're not leaving me behind!"

Jingfei cursed, hiking up her skirts as she sprinted after her mistress.

With a low, rumbling growl, Bai Gui snarled at the crumbling vault one last time before lunging after them.

Together, maid and tiger dove into the portal just as it began to collapse—disappearing into the blinding green light after their runaway princess.

And just like that... they were gone.

Meanwhile...

In the Valley of a Hundred Flowers

The throne hall trembled under the weight of bad news. Emperor Mingyu sat motionless, his knuckles whitening around the carved armrests, as his chief guide finished the report, head bowed low.

"...And, Your Majesty... the sacred vault was breached. The ancient rune is... gone," the guide said hesitantly.

Mingyu's jaw clenched so hard it creaked.

"Gone?" he growled in a low, dangerous tone, like a storm gathering strength.

The guide swallowed hard.

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty... And... the princess... along with her pet tiger and maid, Zhao Jingfei... They are... missing."

Silence fell heavy, crushing every soul in the room.

Mingyu's eyes burned—not with hatred, but with helpless fury.

"That foolish girl... Mei-Ling," he breathed, anguish lacing his voice. "My precious daughter. My last lotus. She has done the unthinkable."

"I should be furious enough to raze half the realm," the Emperor murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"But... she is my daughter." He closed his eyes briefly, pain flashing across his face.

"And if she has chosen to run... it is because I failed to protect her from this cursed pact."

The head priest ventured cautiously,

"Your Majesty... if Fenglian learns of this—"

"He won't," Mingyu snapped, his voice as cold as winter frost.

"He must not. If Fenglian knows Mei-Ling fled, he will hunt her... and he will find her."

He stood slowly, the weight of the throne heavy on his shoulders.

"No one leaves this palace with this news. Seal the vault. Silence the witnesses. From this moment... the princess is on a diplomatic mission." That was to be the official record.

The priest bowed, but dared one more question,

"And... the rune, Your Majesty? If she truly used it...?"

Mingyu's expression darkened.

"The rune is old magic. Ancient. Its power lost to time... but there were once three of them, scattered across this world."

His gaze sharpened.

"Unless Fenglian finds the two remaining runes, he cannot follow her. Not across realms. Not even with all his cursed armies."

Taking a deep breath, Mingyu softened his tone ever so slightly with rare affection.

"Wherever you've run, Mei-Ling... stay hidden. Live free. I will carry this secret until my grave."

He turned away from the court, his eyes cast toward the horizon.

"You will not become his prize, my daughter... Not while I still draw breath."

***

Zvjezdano Nórland - The Celestial Northlands

They landed with a jarring thud—face-first into the gritty earth. A carpet of pine needles broke their fall while pricking their skin, and the air filled thickly with the powerful scent of moss. Towering ancient pines loomed overhead, their branches clawing at the heavens with fierce determination. The atmosphere was sharp and cold, saturated with the rich tang of sap and the primordial odor of damp earth.

Mei-Ling groaned, shaking a cascade of leaves from her tangled hair.

"Wh... where are we?" she muttered, her voice a mixture of confusion and awe.

The forest around them shimmered with unseen life—a world alive and breathing. Ethereal lights flitted among the branches like mischievous sprites, and in the distance, the wind carried the delicate melody of chimes—a haunting sound that danced upon the air.

As if on cue, a sudden, piercing shriek sliced through the ambiance. Jingfei was suspended upside down, her ankle tangled in the gnarled grip of a twisted tree. Her dress hung embarrassingly over her head, revealing much more than pride would allow.

"GET. ME. DOWN!"

Jingfei howled in frustration, her voice echoing in the serene jungle.

Mei-Ling erupted into laughter, mirth spilling over until tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh gods, Jingfei... the forest clearly has a fondness for you," she gasped between giggles.

"Princess, this is not—I can feel the breeze!" Jingfei retorted, indignation clear in her tone.

Amidst her laughter, Mei-Ling attempted to cast a spell—only to find her magic fizzling, powerless in this strange realm. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"This is humiliating," she admitted.

"Ya think!?" Jingfei flailed, waving her arms wildly.

"Just climb the damn tree!"

Before Mei-Ling could make an attempt, a brittle branch snapped with a loud crack, sending Jingfei crashing down into her. They landed in an ungraceful heap on the forest floor—a tangled mess of limbs and ruined silk.

"So... romantic," Jingfei wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

"If it weren't for the mud up my nose."

Their laughter faded into silence as Bai Gui suddenly froze; ears alert, muscles coiled with tension. From the shadows, a figure lunged out of the trees.

SNAP.

The tiger let out a fearsome roar—but it was too late. A net of writhing vines lifted him swiftly skyward.

Mei-Ling spun around, only to feel the chilling touch of cold steel against her throat. Hot breath tickled her ear as a low, unrecognizable voice muttered words.

"Beautiful," the voice drawled with a hint of menace, "but trespassing."

The man was enormous, his form cloaked in rugged leather. His breath carried the metallic scent of blood mingled with the crispness of snow. Mei-Ling shivered—not from fear, but from a far more perilous sensation.

"Hey!" Jingfei attempted to tackle the intimidating figure—only to be effortlessly bundled like a sack of potatoes, muffled curses and kicks echoing from inside the impromptu restraint.

Mei-Ling glared defiantly.

"You dare—" she started.

The man's knife pressed more insistently against her skin.

"Shh," he commanded.

Finally, Mei-Ling turned to meet his gaze, locking eyes with piercing ice-blue orbs. A jagged scar marred one side of his face, and his long silver hair glinted in the forest's waning light. Standing at seven feet tall, he exuded a lethal grace, every inch a testament to his formidable presence.

From the shadows, more pointy-eared men emerged, their expressions unreadable. With a single gesture, the mysterious man silenced Mei-Ling with a wave of magic, and all was shrouded in darkness.