The first Camelia Bloom of A second life.

The first camellia had bloomed.

It was not loud or dramatic, not like the cherry blossoms that scattered their petals in clouds across the courtyard paths. No, the camellia flower bloomed in silence, its red petals curling open like secrets whispered into still air.

I stood in the garden beside Yan'er, the hem of my pale blue robe brushing against dew-kissed grass. The pavilion's curved eaves loomed behind us, casting long, elegant shadows. Everything smelled of spring and anticipation.

Yan'er adjusted the sash at my waist and glanced toward the camellia grove. "The first bloom, my lady. They say it's a sign of good luck."

Good luck.

I had no use for such things.

In my previous life, I had stood in this very spot. I had watched the camellias bloom, unaware that they marked the beginning of the end for me.

That year, His Highness had commissioned a portrait of Lady Ning Xiu amidst the first camellias. The painting had been hung in the Jade Hall for all to admire…she, immortalized as the flower of the court.

And I? I had been just another shadow behind her.

But that was the past.

This life was different. Or at least, I hoped it would be.

Still, as I gazed at the unfolding red petals, I wondered if fate would loop back around and make a mockery of my defiance.

"Perhaps this time, he won't ask for it," I murmured.

Yan'er tilted her head. "Ask for what, my lady?"

"Nothing."

I forced a smile, gently kneeling by the blooming camellias. I reached out to touch one, my fingers grazing the soft edges. Its beauty was unassuming, yet precise. Like all things the palace pretended not to weaponize.

We stayed in silence, the breeze light against our skin, the scent of flowers lingering.

Until footsteps crunched lightly over the pebbled path.

I turned slowly. A court painter, robes ink-stained and eyes wide with reverence, approached and bowed deeply.

"Lady Zhen," he said, "His Highness has instructed me to paint your likeness among the camellias."

My body stilled.

"What did you say?" I asked, carefully.

The painter raised his head. "His Majesty has ordered a portrait. He said today would be the best light."

Yan'er gasped softly. I didn't respond right away.

This… this wasn't supposed to happen.

That painting had been for Lady Ning Xiu in my past life. Commissioned with grandeur, celebrated by the inner court. For His Highness to ask for mine instead…

Butterfly effect.

I straightened, pressing down my surprise. "Very well," I said softly. "I will pose."

Yan'er helped adjust my robes as the artist set up his tools and canvas. I sat where the flowers were thickest, the crimson petals wrapping around my figure like delicate guards.

I lifted my chin just slightly, letting the sun warm one side of my face. My hands rested gently in my lap, and I smiled with the faintest trace of vulnerability.

Because I knew he was watching.

He stood on the bridge beyond the grove, cloaked in dark imperial robes. He didn't move. He didn't speak. But his gaze was unmistakable.

His Highness.

Just like last night, when I had awoken and felt the weight of his presence even in silence. The way he'd stared, unmoving. The way he had left without a word.

And now… this.

I did not let my eyes wander toward him. I did not offer acknowledgment. But I tilted my face slightly, letting the light catch the edge of my jaw and the curve of my lashes.

Soft. Composed. Harmless.

Let him think what he wished.

"More to the left, my lady," the painter said gently.

I shifted as instructed.

Yan'er knelt beside me, her eyes darting once toward the bridge. Then again. Her mouth tightened.

I knew that look.

Someone else had entered the garden.

I kept my posture still, my eyes trained on the blooming bush before me.

Lady Ning Xiu.

I didn't need to see her to know it. Her scent always arrived first…sandalwood and rosewater, sharp and sweet. She was walking, likely with her maids in tow. Perhaps by accident. Perhaps not.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the flutter of lilac silk.

She had stopped.

Of course she had.

I imagined the sight from her view: me, sitting composed in the garden, camellias blooming around me, and the royal painter sketching my form with swift strokes.

And His Highness, standing not far off.

Unmoving. Watching.

I heard nothing but the wind.

Then, the sharp click of her slippers pivoting.

She turned and walked away. I didn't need to look up to know her eyes were blazing. Her silence spoke volumes.

Yan'er exhaled shakily. "She saw."

"I know."

"She saw His Highness too."

"Yes."

Yan'er looked at me with quiet panic. "She will cause trouble."

I smiled faintly. "Then we'll be ready."

The painter looked up. "You look beautiful, my lady. It's as if the flowers bloomed just to surround you."

I turned to him slowly. "Then paint it that way."

Because I wasn't just the girl crying in her sleep anymore.

I was the woman the Emperor had begun to notice.

And the palace would burn before I let anyone erase me again.

The silk screen door slammed shut with a deafening crack.

Inside the Celestial Pavilion, Lady Ning Xiu stood trembling. Her hands balled into fists so tight the knuckles were pale, white like pearls, and twice as cold. Her maids stood quietly along the sides, heads bowed so low their foreheads nearly touched the lacquered floor.

"She sat there," Ning Xiu hissed. "Like a blooming camellia. Like she belonged there."

Her voice, low and deceptively calm, shook with restrained rage.

"She..Zhen Liya, the little bastard daughter…dared to sit in the camellia grove. With my painter. In the same pose I once held. On the same day."

She turned, violently sweeping the embroidered tea tray off the side table. It crashed to the ground, shards scattering across the floor like her composure.

"And he was watching her!"

"Your Highness," Mei Hua, her personal maid, rushed forward, kneeling. "Please calm down…"

"Did he look at me when I walked in? Did he turn his head even slightly?!"

No one answered.

"Of course he didn't," she snarled, her long sleeves flaring as she began pacing. "She has bewitched him. With what? Her simpering voice? Her weeping eyes?"

"She's clever, my lady," Mei Hua said carefully. "She has not even tried to gain his favor. And yet…"

"And yet she has it," Ning Xiu spat.

She stopped by the mirror and glared at her own reflection. Still flawless. Still perfect. Still unwanted.

"I won't let her take what's mine. Not when I've worked this hard."

There was a pause.

Then a chill entered her gaze.

"Tonight will be the perfect night," she whispered. "The very night she thinks herself safe, I'll remind her she's not."

"Your Highness…"

"This time," she interrupted with venom, "she thinks she can trick me with that innocent act. But I'll remind her where her place is. I'll bury her reputation before she even earns it."

She snapped her fingers. "Summon the kitchen maid. The one with the older brother in the northern barracks. Tell her I need a message delivered discreetly."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And tell her this: if she succeeds, I'll grant her a jade hairpin and ten taels of silver."

Mei Hua hesitated. "And if she fails?"

Ning Xiu smiled, eyes sharp as broken glass. "Then she won't need the hairpin or the silver, will she?"

I crouched beneath the blossom-laden window, holding my breath as Yan'er clutched my wrist.

We had heard everything.

Every word.

Every threat.

My heart thudded in my chest, not from fear…but from clarity. So it was her. It had always been her.

In my past life, I never even knew who had sent the man into my chambers that night. I only remembered his filthy hands, the way his breath reeked of wine and rot. I had screamed. I had cried. But no one came.

But this time… this time I knew.

And I would not be caught off guard.

Back in my quarters, I sat down slowly and let the rage simmer behind my calm facade.

"She will try to humiliate me again," I said.

Yan'er's eyes were wet. "My lady, we should tell someone…"

"No," I said. "We can't prove anything yet. And if I speak too soon, it will look like paranoia."

"But what if…"

"I will not be ruined twice."

I stood, walking toward the ornate wardrobe.

"We won't run, Yan'er."

I pulled out a second robe, slightly heavier, with sleeves wide enough to hide the dagger I had brought with me from the dowry chest. I had slipped it there myself before leaving the estate…a small, cold assurance that I would never be left defenseless again.

"We'll let them try," I whispered.

"And we'll let them fail."

Meanwhile, in the Vermilion Hall

His Highness stood alone at the window, arms folded behind his back, his eyes scanning the horizon beyond the plum trees.

But his mind was elsewhere.

"She sat perfectly still," he murmured aloud.

Jun Yu, who stood nearby, raised an eyebrow. "Your Majesty?"

"Lady Zhen. She never looked at me. Not once."

Lin Wei, lounging beside the entry, grinned. "And that bothers you?"

He didn't answer.

He turned instead and moved toward the table. A sketch rested there…the rough draft of the painting the artist had begun just hours ago.

Liya, framed by camellias.

Soft lines. Gentle angles. A ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"She knew I was watching," His Highness said.

"Of course she did," Jun Yu said. "She's clever."

"She's dangerous," Lin Wei corrected. "And Your Majesty doesn't mind."

"She cried in her sleep the first night," His Highness said suddenly.

Both men paused.

"She thought she was alone. She held the pillow and wept like something had been broken inside her. But no tears since then. Not even a flicker. Only smiles. Only bows."

Lin Wei exhaled. "So now you're thinking about her at night, and painting her in the day?"

"She has stirred something," His Highness admitted.

Jun Yu spoke cautiously. "Should we increase security around her quarters? I heard whispers. Lady Ning Xiu was seen in a rage."

His Highness turned slowly. "What kind of rage?"

"She saw the painting in progress."

A pause.

"I want four guards stationed near the South Pavilion. Unmarked. Hidden. Report any movement after nightfall. Especially from the inner court."

Jun Yu nodded. "As you command."

His Highness's voice was low. "If anyone touches her, I want names."

Lin Wei finally stood upright, arms folding.

"Do you think she's manipulating you?"

"I don't care," His Highness said, his jaw tight. "Even if she is, I want to see how far she dares to go."