Chapter 33: A Week of Frustration

Three weeks.

Three full weeks of trying to get water to do something—anything—more than a single dramatic ripple.

Each morning I went to the infirmary, pretending to live a calm, peaceful palace life. Each afternoon, I trudged back to the shrine for "spiritual practice," aka emotional whiplash training with Ming Yu.

We'd tried it all: hatred, sadness, loneliness, joy, embarrassment (special thanks to Wei Wuxian for that one), and even a spontaneous round of jealousy. Nothing worked.

Well… except for that occasional tingling in my fingertips.

You'd think being the reincarnated Goddess of Water would come with at least a decent splash or a floating teacup by now. I mean, even Harry Potter managed to summon a Patronus after, like, three tries. Me? I barely moved anything.

The more I pushed, the less the water responded. It was like the bowl itself had developed an attitude. Each afternoon ended the same: me, exhausted, staring into unmoving water like it owed me rent.

Today was no different.

I sank onto the floor of the shrine, dramatically flopping back like a tragic heroine in a cheap stage play. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this," I muttered.

Ming Yu knelt beside me, patient as ever. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his presence steady and warm. "Don't say that, Mei Lin. Every great journey starts with small steps."

I groaned. "Yeah, but I've taken about seventy small steps and all I've got to show for it is a glorified puddle twitch."

His lips twitched—either amusement or sympathy, maybe both.

"It's been three weeks," I snapped, frustration bubbling up again. "Three. Weeks. And all I can do is annoy the water into a little wiggle. What if I'm not really the Goddess of Water? What if this is all just… a huge cosmic error?"

"Don't do that," Ming Yu said firmly. "Don't doubt yourself."

I sat up, huffing. "Why not? The water clearly doubts me. Honestly, I think it's mocking me."

He smiled softly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "These things take time. You have power, Mei Lin. You just haven't found the key yet."

"Great," I muttered. "Anyone got a map to that key?"

He chuckled. "No, but I'm good at picking locks."

That actually made me laugh. Just a little.

Just then, the shrine doors creaked open and in walked Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Their timing was suspiciously perfect, like they'd been eavesdropping for dramatic effect.

"How's the progress?" Wei Wuxian asked, his tone light but laced with genuine concern.

"It's abysmal," I said flatly, slumping further into my own disappointment. "At this rate, I'll master a ripple sometime in the next dynasty."

Wei Wuxian's eyes lit up—dangerously. That look never meant peace and quiet.

"Maybe what you need," he said, clearly delighted with himself, "is a break."

I blinked. "A break from failing?"

"Exactly," he said cheerfully. "Let's visit the Yang River."

"The Yang River?" I echoed.

Ming Yu nodded beside me. "It flows from the northern mountains all the way to the southern sea."

Wei Wuxian folded his arms smugly. "And we can stay at the River Jade Villa."

I hesitated, then smiled. "Honestly? Any trip outside of palace sounds perfect."

"Wonderful," he said. "We leave tomorrow. Pack light only."

The next morning, I was making my way to the carriage when I saw her.

Yufei.

Standing by the gate in a pristine emerald robe, a rolled decree in one hand and smugness dripping from every pore.

She handed it to Wei Wuxian like she was presenting a trophy. "Her Majesty heard about your little riverside escape," she said sweetly. "And she's asked me to accompany you. You know, for diplomatic... balance. Since you took Consort Li on your last southern trip, the Queen thought it only fair that I be included this time."

Wei Wuxian read the decree, his smile thinning. "Of course she did."

I could almost hear his soul sighing.

"Very well, Yufei," he said with measured politeness. "You're welcome to join us."

Her eyes sparkled as if she'd just won a game no one else knew was happening.

Then she turned and spotted Ming Yu.

Her expression flickered with surprise. "Mister Liu, you're coming too?"

Before I could roll my eyes, Wei Wuxian stepped in smoothly, expression unreadable. "Yes. Since I lost Hanguang-jun, thanks to certain misunderstandings—" he gave the briefest glance in Yufei's direction "—Liu Ming Yu is now my official advisor."

Yufei blinked, caught slightly off guard. "But he's from Daqi. How can someone from a rival kingdom serve in such a position?"

Wei Wuxian didn't miss a beat. "Ming Yu is no longer a prince of Daqi. He was raised in Luyang, and his sect is neutral. He was appointed before the wedding. You know, for security reasons."

Wow, I thought. You really did plan everything, didn't you?

Yufei's demeanor shifted so fast it could have snapped a lesser neck. Gone was the suspicion—replaced by a soft smile and the suddenly demure flutter of her lashes.

"Oh… Advisor Liu," she cooed, "congratulations on your new role. I'm sure the trip will be even more delightful with your presence."

Ming Yu offered her a perfectly civil smile, cool and unreadable. "Thank you, Lady Wang."

I tried not to gag.

Yufei continued, her voice practically soaked in honey. "It's so rare to meet someone so accomplished at such a young age. Truly, Advisor Liu, I feel both fortunate and safe knowing this trip is in your capable hands."

Ming Yu nodded politely, but said nothing.

Wei Wuxian gave her a look and smirked. "Yufei, we're going to the river. Not marching into battle. The most dangerous thing you'll encounter is an aggressive goose."

That shut her up for about three seconds.

The trip I had initially imagined as peaceful and healing—a much-needed escape from the palace chaos—was quickly being swallowed by dramatic foreshadowing in silk robes.

Yufei's presence loomed over us like a beautifully dressed storm cloud, and deep down I knew: trouble wasn't coming.

It had already arrived.

How am I supposed to train with her around? I thought grimly. I can't exactly rage-bend water when she's throwing compliments like darts at Ming Yu's face.

As we prepared to depart, Yufei hovered like a shadow that refused to fade. She seized every opportunity to insert herself into the conversation—praising Wei Wuxian's nonexistent humility with such sugary sweetness it could rot teeth, and dangling flirtatious admiration in Ming Yu's direction like a jeweled lure.

But even then, her eyes kept drifting—always, inevitably—back to Lan Wangji.

She didn't speak to him directly, not much. But the way her gaze lingered, the way her voice shifted ever so slightly whenever he so much as breathed near her… it was obvious.

She hadn't let go. Not really.

"Prince Wei," she said sweetly, adjusting her hair for the fifth time, "your leadership is truly inspiring. Such strength and wisdom at such a young age. And Advisor Liu, you're clearly the perfect complement—so level-headed, so refined."

Wei Wuxian gave a tight smile. "Thank you, Yufei. That's very generous of you."

His eyes, however, screamed please stop talking.

"Shall we get going?" he added pointedly.

The carriage ride felt like an eternity compressed into a few miserable miles.

Yufei's voice—bright, fluttery, and relentless—filled every inch of the space like overly sweet perfume you couldn't escape. She clung to every opportunity to engage Ming Yu, asking questions she already knew the answers to, complimenting him with exaggerated awe, and laughing a little too hard at things he didn't even say.

I, on the other hand, had apparently been demoted to background foliage.

By the time the wheels finally rolled to a stop, I was dangerously close to opening the carriage door and throwing myself out—not for drama, but for survival.

If this trip lasts one more minute like this, I thought, I will walk into the river and let the goddess energy figure itself out.

Thankfully, salvation came in the form of the River Jade Villa.

Nestled along the winding Yang River, the estate looked like it had been plucked straight from a painting—curved rooftops kissed by sunlight, ornate wooden carvings, red lanterns swaying gently in the breeze. Lush gardens wrapped around the villa, blooming with peonies, plum blossoms, and the soft rustle of bamboo. The air smelled like spring and river mist. Peaceful. Serene.

And yet, here came Yufei.

The moment we stepped off the carriage, she latched onto Ming Yu like a decorative sash with feelings. Where he went, she followed—asking questions, fawning over his insight, pretending not to know how to open a garden gate so he'd have to help her.

It was infuriating.

"I swear," I muttered to Wei Wuxian under my breath, "if she bats her eyelashes at him one more time, I'm going to manifest a tidal wave just to shut her up."

He chuckled, delighting in my rising blood pressure. "Someone's jealous."

"I'm trying to train," I snapped. "Not watch a historical romance where I'm the extra."

He raised an eyebrow. "Noted. Want me to do something about it?"

"Yes," I hissed. "Get her away from Ming Yu before I lose what little progress I've made with inner peace."

Wei Wuxian's eyes sparkled, the mischief already brewing. "Don't worry. I have just the plan."

And of course, he did.

Within minutes, Wei Wuxian was spinning a tale about a legendary flower said to bloom only once every hundred years—somewhere nearby, just barely within reach.

"It's called the Spirit Orchid," he said, his voice a smooth mix of mystery and importance. "Rare, delicate, and deeply symbolic. Scholars say it brings eternal grace to the first woman who sees it in bloom."

Yufei's eyes lit up like he'd offered her a crown.

"It only blooms briefly," he added, "so if you want to witness it… now would be the time."

"Oh! I must see it!" she said, already turning to follow him. "Would you accompany me, Prince Wei?"

"Of course," he said with a charming smile. "I'll show you the way."

She cast one last, overly meaningful glance at Ming Yu before sweeping off with Wei Wuxian down the winding garden path, her silk robes fluttering behind her like a triumphant banner.

The second she was out of earshot, I exhaled.

Hard.

"Well," I muttered, "thank the gods for petty distractions."

Ming Yu turned toward me with the ghost of a smile, his expression unreadable. "You really wanted her gone that badly?"

I gave him a look. "Let's just say I was a few compliments away from seeing if the river could actually drown people with a thought."

He chuckled.

We made our way down to a secluded stretch of the riverbank, the sound of flowing water lapping gently against the stones. The trees above filtered the sunlight into soft dappled patches, and for the first time in days, the air actually felt breathable.

Ming Yu stopped beneath a flowering willow and gestured for me to sit. "Alright, Mei Lin," he said, his voice calm but focused. "Let's work on connecting your emotions to the water. Think back to the moments when your feelings were strongest—grief, rage, joy, fear. Not just remembering them, but feeling them again."

I nodded, settling onto the grass with the river stretching out beside me like a mirror.

The memories weren't hard to find. The fear from the cave. The helplessness during the kidnapping. The rush of warmth when Ming Yu looked at me like I was more than just someone misplaced in time. I closed my eyes and let those emotions rise to the surface like ripples on a still pond.

We practiced for what felt like hours. Not much progress still.

Ming Yu watched with patient attention, occasionally adjusting my breathing or guiding my focus back when my thoughts wandered. His presence was steady, grounding—always just close enough to reassure, never close enough to distract.

Apparently, someone else did find it distracting.

Not long after, I felt it—the prickle at the back of my neck.

I glanced up to see Yufei standing just at the edge of the garden path, no longer feigning interest in rare orchids. Her gaze had narrowed, her arms crossed, her entire posture radiating princess denied spotlight energy.

Gone was the airy sweetness.

Her expression now? Ice dipped in poison.

It didn't take a genius to see the shift. She wasn't glaring at me. Not directly. No, she was watching Ming Yu—watching him watch me.

And if looks could kill, I'd have been dragged back to the palace in a gilded urn.

So much for a peaceful riverside retreat.

The next afternoon, I was practicing near the pier, trying to focus on my breathing and energy flow—when the rustle of footsteps behind me made my spine stiffen.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Consort Li," Yufei's voice cut through the air like a blade wrapped in velvet. She stood behind me, her expression a perfect mask of fury barely held in place. "Was making Hanguang-jun fall in love with you and tossing him aside not enough? Now you're after Advisor Liu too?"

I inhaled slowly, grounding myself. She wanted a scene. I wasn't going to give her one.

"Lady Wang," I said evenly, turning to face her. "Please be careful with your accusations. Hanguang-jun's feelings belong to him. I never asked for them—and I certainly never used them. I am Prince Wei's royal consort. You'd do well not to forget that."

Her eyes narrowed, and she scoffed. "And what about Advisor Liu? You think I haven't noticed? I see the way he looks at you. You're manipulating him—just like you did the others."

I felt a flicker of heat behind my eyes but kept my voice steady. "Advisor Liu is Prince Wei's loyal subject. Whatever feelings he may or may not have are none of your concern. He is doing his duty, nothing more."

"Nothing more?" Yufei stepped closer, the rage in her eyes barely masked by civility. "You think I'm stupid? You think I can't see what you're doing? You're using Prince Wei for protection, and Advisor Liu for attention. You're a such parasite."

Oh hell no.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat, dry and sharp. "Really? That's rich coming from someone who drugged Hanguang-jun just to make him stay."

Her face twitched.

Gotcha.

"You think we don't know?" I said, my voice rising despite myself. "You think you're subtle? Everyone in the palace sees through you. They just smile to your face and laugh behind your back."

Yufei's mask cracked completely.

Before I could blink, she shoved me hard.

I stumbled, lost my footing, and felt my body pitch backward. My heel slipped near the edge—and the next thing I knew, the cold rush of the river closed over me.

The current grabbed hold fast.

"Yufei! You little bitch!" I screamed, sputtering as the river surged over me.

The current was ruthless—cold, fast, unforgiving. It yanked at my limbs like it had a personal vendetta, dragging me farther from the villa, farther from the people I cared about. I kicked and clawed at the water, but it was like trying to swim through liquid iron.

Panic bloomed in my chest.

I was a decent swimmer under normal circumstances, but this wasn't normal. The river was wild, swollen from spring rains, its undertow hungry and merciless. Every stroke felt heavier than the last. My muscles screamed. My breath came in gasps.

Then—crack.

My ankle slammed into something solid underwater. Pain shot up my leg, sharp and jarring. I cried out, only to have a mouthful of river slam into my lungs. I choked, coughing violently, trying to stay upright.

Another hit—this time against my back.

And then—

Thwack.

Something struck the side of my head.

White light exploded behind my eyes.

And then… silence.

No sound, no pain, no river.

Just darkness.