Chapter Eleven: “The Art of Deception
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Storms came early to the Ming Court that night.
Not from the sky—though thunder cracked across the horizon—but within the marble walls of the Inner Hall, where Consort Ru was shackled before a tribunal of the Emperor's most loyal ministers.
She looked different now. Not a consort draped in silks, but a snake with its jewels stripped, hissing venom through cracked lips.
"You can't understand the burden of favor," she spat. "Of living every day knowing your worth depends on a man's gaze."
Chancellor Wen stood firm. "And yet you endangered the Emperor himself. You tampered with palace medicine and weaponized your knowledge."
Ru's laugh was dry. "He would've died either way. His illness didn't begin with me."
That silenced the room.
The Grand Vizier leaned forward. "Explain."
Ru's eyes flicked to the shadows. "Bring me Meiyun. I'll tell her. Not you."
---
Meanwhile, Meiyun sat beneath the flickering light of a red lantern in her chambers, her pulse still weak from the duel. She couldn't sleep—not with the weight of the duel still wrapped around her chest like tight silk.
Wei Lian had posted his best guards outside her door.
But it was not assassins she feared.
It was truths.
And the dream she had again—of her mother, dying with blue lips, whispering a name.
"Song Xue…"
A name she didn't recognize.
Or rather, one she hadn't wanted to.
---
In the interrogation chamber, Meiyun stood face to face with Ru, the air thick with unspoken histories.
"You requested me," Meiyun said, cold and controlled. "Speak."
Ru smiled faintly. "You look like her."
Meiyun's voice sharpened. "Like who?"
"Your mother," Ru said. "The palace shadow who disappeared after saving the First Queen. The one who dared to love above her station. The one who was erased."
Meiyun froze.
"I know who you are," Ru whispered. "And I know what they'll do when they find out."
---
Back in the Emperor's quarters, Wei Lian watched his father sleep.
Or rather, fail to.
The Emperor's breathing was ragged. His pulse inconsistent. Even his shadow flickered like it wanted to leave his body behind.
Wei Lian paced.
"Bring me the Royal Physician," he snapped. "No delays."
The physician entered, trembling.
He checked the pulse.
Stopped.
Then dropped to his knees.
"Your Majesty… your pulse matches another. Exactly."
Wei Lian stiffened. "Whose?"
The man whispered, "Healer Meiyun's."
---
In the palace library, Meiyun poured over scrolls, hands shaking.
Ru had planted a seed she couldn't unsee.
She found her mother's name buried in the archives. Not under healers. Not even under commoners.
But listed once… in a section marked Exiled Nobility.
Lady Song Xue. Daughter of the House of Liu. Downgraded. Hidden. Disgraced for a forbidden union with an imperial heir who died under mysterious circumstances.
A scandal wiped from the records.
No wonder no one knew.
No wonder she had healing knowledge older than the current academy.
Her mother was once royalty.
And now… she might be tied to the Emperor's failing health.
---
Meiyun ran through the east wing, scrolls in hand.
Guards stopped her at the Emperor's door—but Wei Lian opened it first.
Their eyes met. The air between them sparked with questions neither had time to ask.
"Come in," he said quietly.
She stepped through.
"He's worse," Wei Lian said.
"I know," she replied. "I also know why."
---
Meiyun pressed her fingers to the Emperor's wrist, then her own.
The pulse. The beat. The irregular flow of qi.
They matched.
"No normal poison does this," she whispered. "It's a binding technique."
"A what?"
"It links a healer to a patient. Her pulse becomes his. His death becomes hers. Except—"
She paused, staring into the shadows.
"Except… I never did this. Which means someone used me. My qi. My essence. As a tether. Without my consent."
Wei Lian's jaw clenched. "Can it be reversed?"
"Yes. But only by the one who cast it."
Her voice dropped. "Or by destroying the source."
---
The scene exploded with guards rushing in.
"The tribunal demands the healer return immediately," barked an officer. "Consort Ru has named Meiyun as the one who cast the binding."
Wei Lian stepped forward, voice like thunder. "I will not allow her to be dragged like a criminal. She is under royal protection."
The officer flinched.
But the damage was done.
Whispers would spread. That Meiyun was not just a healer. That she was a witch. That she was tied to the throne in ways no one understood.
---
Later that night, Wei Lian stood at the balcony of her chamber, staring out.
Meiyun joined him, silent.
"She's right, you know," Meiyun said at last. "I am like my mother. I'm a secret wrapped in a name that means nothing to this court."
Wei Lian turned. "Good."
She blinked. "What?"
"Good," he said again, voice low. "Because it means you weren't made by them. You weren't trained to kneel. You were made to rise."
She turned her face toward his. "And if I fall?"
"I'll fall with you," he whispered.