Chapter 11

Ling Mei—known to only a precious few as Lixi—had long left the gilded cage of the Bailu palace behind. Now, she found solace living on the outskirts of Shui City in a little cottage, nestled deep within the quiet embrace of the woods. There, she wielded her medical knowledge like a whispered blessing, a sage who healed the poor and the sick who had nowhere to turn to with gentle hands and unwavering resolve.Doctors from the village came to consult her for cases that seemed too difficult for them to handle.

That morning, the forest basked in a golden hush. Sunlight filtered through the emerald canopy, dappling the earth with warmth. Ling Mei hummed softly, her immaculate white robes fluttering like phoenix feathers as she skipped lightly over the dew-kissed ground. Her satchel swung with every step, filled with freshly gathered herbs. Blissfully distracted by the beauty and serenity of the day free from palace intrigues, she did not see the obstacle in her path—until she stumbled. She hit her foot against a hard object.

"Ouch—!" She stumbled back.

It wasn't a rock. Not a branch. Her gaze snapped downward—and froze.No! A human.This wasn't an object but actually a human!She covered her mouth horrified as she took in the image of the almost lifeless person.

It was a man—slumped, pale, and barely breathing.Sprawled across the forest floor like a discarded corpse, his blood dyed the ground a terrible crimson. Eyes wide, lips pale, breath shallow—if breathing at all. Several broken arrows stuck from his back like twisted thorns. Scars—deep, old, and brutal—crisscrossed his body.

Ling Mei gasped,panic flashed in her chest, but her instinct as a physician surged forward.

" I need to move him... now!" she whispered, dropping to her knees.

She moved to lift him, but his weight was far beyond what she'd imagined.

" OMG! So heavy!"

Desperation ignited a stubborn flame inside her. Calling for help would cost precious time; this man's life hung by a thread.

She tugged at his arm. Gritting her teeth, she she half-dragged inch by inch, half-carried the injured man, her steps uneven, her breath ragged. The journey felt endless.Her back burned, her arms ached, but she didn't stop. She stumbled and staggered through brush and roots, her pure white robe quickly soaking in his blood, warm and sticky but she didn't care about that at the moment. A life was slowly ebbing away.

Her home was not far, but it felt like an eternity before she finally reached her modest home, relief washed over her like cool rain. Though he was unmoving as a log, the man was lucky to have found her.

She removed his torn upper garment because he was seriously bleeding and her friend was unavailable to help out.She was shocked with chills to see several scars mapped deep into his skin,old wounds, fresh gashes, arrows protruding from muscle and bone.They were of varying sizes decorating his back. She gasped in disbelief and pity flooded her heart for the young man.

His back was a battlefield.

His lips twitched showing his sheer will and resilience to survive.

"What kind of man survives this?How many battles had he survived to carry such a burden? What torment had left his body a battlefield?" she whispered, awe and pity rising in equal measure.

His breath was shallow; strong poison of different types, vile, deadly, rare and potent, seeped through his veins. The diverse poisons were of different strength.He was just a ticking bomb waiting to explode.Ling Mei's hands worked swiftly, steady with years of training and a wisdom beyond the ordinary. Her hands flew into motion. Needles. Antidotes. Snapping arrows, and stitching wounds.Salves brewed from crushed herbs. Hours bled into nightfall. Most physicians would have pronounced him dead.But Ling Mei wasn't most physicians, her expertise was unmatched.

Detoxifying his body was grueling, but slowly, steadily, she reclaimed his life from the brink of death.

She kept him clean with the help of her trusted male friend from the town who bathed the stranger.Though, she was totally exhausted.Still, she rarely left his side, checking his pulse, applying fresh salves, changing his bandages.

He remained unconscious for five days.

On the sixth day, just as dawn stretched its fingers across the sky, the patient's eyes slowly snapped open. Piercing blue icy eyes locked onto hers, burning with suspicion and raw survival instinct.Before she could even speak, a hand like iron clamped around her throat.His grip was sudden and fierce, clawing at her throat like a wild animal cornered.He didn't even give her a chance as he bombarded her with many questions.

"Who… are you?" His voice was hoarse, deadly. "Why am I here? Who sent you?"

She struggled, gasping, clawing at his fingers. His eyes were wild, cold, untrusting. Her breath hitched as his fingers tightened, the pain sharp but fleeting. She struggled for words, but he released her abruptly with hesitation, his eyes darkening. She fell back breathlessly, coughing hard, red marks stamped across her neck.

"Well, that was a unique way to say thank you."She said with a tired humour.

He didn't apologize, only muttered, "Thought you were after my life."

She smiled gently, and explained how she'd found him and saved him. His scowl softened slightly and guilt flickered briefly on his handsome features.

His stomach growled loudly, betraying him. He felt so embarrassed.Ling Mei couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Do you have any food here?" Any food?" he muttered. "And don't serve slop. I won't eat anything that tastes like horse feed. I only eat QUALITY. Take note."

She blinked in disbelief—then laughed, a soft, musical sound. "You nearly killed me, and now you're making demands?"

She served him anyway.

The bowl of steaming rice porridge held delicate slices of venison, wild forest mushrooms, and a hint of wild ginger. A drizzle of chilled spring water completed the meal.

The man took one bite. And froze.The first was a cautious bite. Then another. His cold, guarded expression melted, replaced by something innocent—wonder, maybe

He stared into the bowl as though it held forbidden treasure. Then, quickly, another bite. And another. His expression shifted, his eyes wide as he took each spoonful—more wonder, disbelief. For a moment, he looked... Happy.

He covered it with a scoff.

"Tch. It's edible, I suppose."

Ling Mei raised an eyebrow. "That's the best food you've ever tasted, isn't it?"

He didn't answer. But when he tilted the bowl to sip every last drop,he even licked the plate dry. He slurped every single thing.The truth was obvious.

" Where do you keep your food?" He said as he headed for the kitchen like a starved beast in a puppy expression.

Wait, no—!"

Too late.

He grabbed her whole pot and devoured the whole content not minding her protests.He even licked the pot clean and dry with his tongue. He licked his fingers without feeling any shame.When he finally looked up, his eyes held a strange gleam.

Then the mask returned. This guy was just so good at pretending.

" Hey little girl, don't feel it's so sweet, don't be proud.Anyway, the palace food doesn't taste this way. You should come and work in the palace. This is nothing, the best food… no, the best…sorry worse food I've ever tasted.I suppose garbage tastes good when you're starving" he said coldly as he turned away still licking his lips as though chasing the last ghost of flavor,the remarkable taste lingered on his buds . All through his existence he had never tasted anything so delicious. This girl was indeed a prodigy in cooking.He wished he could eat such food everyday. He just didn't want to give her credit for her skill.

"I'll be gone by sunrise but make sure to cook for me. I need energy," he said coldly. "I don't have any money with me."

He threw her something.

A golden jade necklace, warm from his skin.

"Keep it. I don't take free services. And I'll repay the debt one day. Give me something of yours too—for identification."

Before she could protest, he slipped off or rather snatched her bracelet and nodded in satisfaction.

That evening, armored strangers combed through the forest, faces like danger. They matched his description. Killers. Ling Mei stared them down, voice steady, claiming she'd seen no such man. They left—barely.

Before dawn, he was gone.

He took food with him, of course because the taste was simply irresistible.

And left a note:

"I'll repay the debt. Don't die before then. Thank you."

She stared at the shimmering treasure. It didn't belong to a peasant. He looked like a very poor peasant.Her heart whispered suspicion, but her lips remained sealed.

She never knew his name.

Only the weight of the jade around her neck.

He took food with him, of course.

And left a note:

"I'll repay the debt. Don't die before then. Thank you."

Weeks passed. She had forgotten about the arrogant stranger.Ling Mei buried herself in her work. But her heart burned with quiet fury. She disguised herself as a male peasant, face hidden behind a terrifying scarred mask that looked like her skin had been melted by fire. Beauty was her enemy. Let them judge her worth by skill alone.

She had discovered that some of her unanswered questions concerning the death of her parents lay in the imperial palace. She had been racking her brain on the way to enter the palace because it was not easy to do so.Before she even reached her destination she was forcefully dragged by some imperial soldiers. She saw a very long line of males and females like herwho were bound with tight ropes. Their hands and legs was tied up. Some were happy because not everyone had the opportunity to enter the palace and some were sad because they missed their families. She thought of escaping but remembered that there would be dire consequences for her action and remained calm.Besides, it would be very foolish to disobey the emperor's idea.And this was an opportunity to enter the palace and find those responsible for the death of her parents.This was fate. A door had opened.

One look at the palace gates, and her breath caught.Everyone was amazed by the beauty and luxury of the palace. They couldn't stop gaping at the structures. Some were a bit happy to find themselves there. Ling mei wasn't excluded, she took in the beauty of all she saw. Bailu palace couldn't compare to this.

The imperial palace was breathtaking—larger than anything she had imagined. Towers kissed the sky, golden roofs shimmered under the sun. It was a world apart.The palace loomed, a jewel of stone and silk, guarded by dragons of gold. Fragrance filled the air, and wind chimes sang above carved pavilions. It was magnificent. Overwhelming.Astonishing.

They sorted the captives like livestock.

Beautiful girls became concubines. Plain ones were made maids. Strong men went to the army. The weak? Eunuchs.

When they pointed at her—"Eunuch"

Desperate, she untied her long mass of hair.

" Please I'm a woman and not a man"

The black shiny hair with a silky touch cascaded down her waist like a waterfall.

Gasps followed they were momentarily struck with awe—but were quickly muted by disgust when her scarred face came into view. The guards stepped back.

"A disfigured woman?" someone sneered. "She's better suited for chores."

"A maid, then," the guard scoffed. "Lowest rank."

And so she became Hua Lian.

The palace's ugly duckling.

Mocked. Shunned. Laughed at.

Here, she was just a maid. One of many. A shadow in silk robes. A nameless face among hundreds.

Except… they never forgot her face.

Because it was ruined.

A hideous burn scar stretched from her left temple to her jaw, like melted wax frozen mid-drip. It was a mask, of course—not her real face. But it looked so real even she flinched sometimes when catching her reflection.

"Look at that thing…"

"She gives me chills. Is that thing even a human?"

"She is a thief that was caught stealing. She was burnt alive that's why she has that scar. I'm still wondering how she survived"

"She's cursed. "

The whispers followed her like smoke. Hua Lian said nothing. She kept her head down, her eyes low. Every insult, every sneer, she swallowed like bitter medicine.

She had not come here to win hearts.

She had come for revenge.

But the imperial palace life was not what she expected. It wasn't just silk robes and beautiful gardens. It was bloodless war. It was eyes behind fans, daggers hidden in words. Even the lowest-ranked maid, like herself, had to fight for survival. One mistake—one broken plate, one wrong word to the wrong person—and you'd vanish overnight.

Hua Lian learned fast.

She scrubbed floors until her knees bled. Hauled chamber pots in the dead of night. Endured beatings with a bowed head and no tears. When other girls slept, she memorized the palace map under candlelight. When they gossiped, she listened—every rumor, every name, every secret filed away in her mind.

And yet…

Even in the cruelest place on earth, there were slivers of kindness.

Like from Qing'er, a bright-eyed girl two years older, assigned to the laundry hall. She was the first to speak to Hua Lian without fear or mockery.

"You're not scary," Qing'er had whispered one night as they folded robes together. "Your scar looks painful, but your eyes are… soft."

Hua Lian blinked. That was the first time anyone had said that to her. Soft. Her?

"I'm used to pain," she replied simply, folding the last of the clothes.

Qing'er smiled. "Then you're strong."

That night, Hua Lian couldn't sleep.

No one had ever called her strong before—not like that. Not without knowing her past. Not without seeing her fight or watching her bleed. Just... strong, for surviving.

But moments like that were rare.

No one would think to look closely at a disfigured maid.Hence, she was safe.

She had come here with a purpose.

To find out who killed her parents.

To uncover the truth that had been buried in silence and power.

To make them all pay.

But palace life was harder than she imagined. This place wasn't just grand halls and jeweled robes. It was a battlefield made of soft smiles and sharp tongues. Servants turned on each other like starving rats. Even the smallest mistake—a misstep, a broken cup—could cost you a limb or your life.

She was sent to the servant quarters in the outer palace, where the lowest of the low lived. Her job was to clean the bathhouse used by noble ladies and high-ranking consorts. The work was dirty, and the air always smelled like soap and feet.

But she didn't complain.

Every bruise, every cruel insult, every pile of filth—she endured it all.

Because she was waiting.

Watching.

Listening.

One day, she would climb higher. And when she did, she would be ready.

Still, there were moments when even Hua Lian's calm cracked.

But behind the mask of scars and silence, she watched. Waited. Endured.

Because the blood of her parents still stained the hands of someone in that palace.

And soon… she would make them remember.