kotchanipa

Amid the softly falling snow in the Cold Palace courtyard, Princess Xianlan drew her final breath silently.

She had been falsely accused of poisoning the Crown Prince, brutally flogged until her body was torn, and imprisoned without a shred of mercy all part of a cruel scheme orchestrated by Noble Consort Su Zhen, her stepmother, whose gentle appearance masked a heart of poison.

Meanwhile, the Emperor of Li the very man who claimed to love her above all never realized that the only daughter he cherished had been crushed to death by the hands of the one he trusted most.

But the heavens showed mercy.

Xianlan opened her eyes once more, reborn into her eight-year-old self in the time before everything shattered.

This time… she would not be a worthless pawn in a game of power.
She would become the master strategist, toppling each of her enemies one by one.

With icy composure and razor-sharp wit, Xianlan hid in the shadows, slowly gathering evidence, allies, and influence within the palace.
And fate brought her an unexpected ally

Feng Yuhan, Crown Prince of the Southern Yan Kingdom, known as the “Winter Tiger.”
Cold, brilliant, and seemingly heartless yet from their first meeting, something in her eyes held his gaze.

Together, they moved in the darkness.
Xianlan laid the plans. Feng Yuhan executed them.

As the Kingdom of Li fell into the depths of political games
As vipers hissed behind silken smiles in the inner palace
As even a father’s love could be twisted by deceit

⸻

When the phoenix returns to her nest she will never again let anyone trample her.
The will of the heavens may be written in ink…
But Xianlan will rewrite fate in the blood of her enemies.

Rebirth of the Phoenix Empress

As autumn began to whisper through the palace curtains, the withered plum blossoms were still deliberately placed upon the marble tray in front of Zhao Yuan Hall. They held no fragrance, did not bloom, only bore the marks of time etched upon once-lovely petals—like a secret long buried, falling silently, piece by piece.

Jiang Xinluo sat before her writing desk, eyes fixed on a folded poem she had already read three times.

A faint smile unknowingly curved her lips before her fingers dipped the brush in ink and wrote another verse:

"In flowers long dead, still lingers the breath of a new season—

If one knows how to listen."

To outsiders, the poem might seem meaningless. But anyone who had studied the secret script magic of the Wu Yi Kingdom would know: the word "breath" implied an "information source," and "new season" referred to a "new political target."

The poem was sent along with a wooden-handled paper fan tucked into a fruit basket from the guest palace.

Before a day had passed—it reached the hands of Xianlan.

Inside Ronghua Palace

The candlelight cast from a jade lamp painted Xianlan's silhouette onto the floor like fresh ink art.

Her eyes silently read the poem on the fan before the corner of her lips curled upward.

"The breath of dried flowers…" she whispered.

"…You're telling me the insider from the Bai clan… is closer than I thought."

She gazed out the window that welcomed the cool breeze.

The eighth month of the year was nearing its end, but Xianlan knew well—

the season of power had only just begun.

On the other side of the palace

Bai Yuening walked with graceful poise beneath layers of fine silk from her allied kingdom.

Her eyes swept across the now-silent palace hall that once relayed messages—now suspiciously quiet.

"Do you think there is someone among us… who isn't loyal?"

The eunuch by her side looked up in shock but quickly responded,

"This servant would never dare assume such a thing, Your Highness."

Bai Yuening chuckled coldly, her pale gray eyes narrowing.

"Because the scent of fear… is fainter than even dried flowers."

In the small chamber behind Zhao Yuan Hall

Jiang Xinluo set her brush down and folded all the parchment into a tiny origami crane, placing it into a carved wooden box.

Her slender fingers briefly touched her chest—

the heart that was supposed to be cold and indifferent now beat faster… because of that woman's eyes.

She wasn't foolish—she was too strong to be just another chess piece.

And when she extended a hand in friendship…

…Jiang Xinluo found herself wanting to be more than just an observer.

"I only wish… to see you not face this storm alone," she murmured.

The breath of dried flowers still held power—

It only needed someone willing to truly listen.

✨ Thank you for reading this chapter of Rebirth of the Phoenix Empress!If you're enjoying Xianlan's journey, please add this story to your Library, leave a comment, or tap a heart 💖 — your support truly fuels the fire!

The Breath of Dried Flowers