I was left alone

Planting Seed of Trust

The following day, Shenmiao’s ankle still bore a faint ache, a perfect excuse to rest and quietly reflect on her next moves. As she sat beside the window of Fenxing Palace, gazing out over the sprawling palace grounds, she felt the stirrings of her plans take root. She knew that Prince Yu’s past attachment to her mother was beginning to resurface, and now, all she needed to do was revive those memories further, embedding her own place in his heart and loyalty.

That evening, she once again found her way to the imperial library, quietly positioning herself at a reading table near a window, her face illuminated by the flickering light of a nearby lantern. Prince Yu arrived a few minutes later, his expression unreadable as his eyes met hers.

“Little Uncle,” she greeted softly, inclining her head as he approached. She held out a book she’d been reading, the pages worn with age. “I came across this—it’s about the Western Campaigns. I thought you might find it interesting.”

Prince Yu’s lips pressed into a thin line, though a faint glimmer of appreciation lit his gaze. “You read about the campaigns?” he asked, his tone low but curious. He took the book from her hands, his fingers brushing hers for a fleeting moment.

Shenmiao nodded, allowing her gaze to turn serious. “Yes. I want to understand...the hardships you faced. My mother spoke of you often. She said you had a strength others could not see.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then softened to something unreadable. He looked away briefly, his gaze settling on the window. Memories, long buried, surfaced—moments of vulnerability that Empress Chu had witnessed.

Years ago, Prince Yu had been a fragile youth, one who found little respect within the palace walls. His father, the emperor, barely acknowledged him, dismissing him as weak and unworthy of the imperial lineage. Court officials and even servants treated him with contempt. For a boy barely in his teens, the isolation was suffocating.

But amid the darkness, Empress Chu—then just a young noblewoman in the palace—had extended a rare kindness to him. She had found him one evening in the palace gardens, alone, wiping away his frustration after a particularly humiliating encounter with the other princes. Empress Chu had approached him with a gentle smile, her presence warm and reassuring.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them,” she had said softly, offering him a silk handkerchief. “One day, they’ll see your worth. Until then, know that you’re stronger than their scorn.”

Prince Yu remembered her words vividly, the quiet kindness that had made his burdens seem lighter. When he was later ordered to be sent to the neighboring country, it was she who had come to him in secret. Though powerless at the time to change the emperor’s mind, she had provided him with resources—money, food, and even a small group of guards—to ensure he was protected on his journey.

During his exile, she continued to support him. By the time she became empress, she had even sent soldiers to his aid and arranged for his return to the capital, restoring his status. He had become the dynasty’s fiercest warrior and had earned the title of the War God. But through it all, he had never forgotten that she was the only one who had seen any potential in him.

In the Present, Prince Yu cleared his throat, the faintest tremor of emotion in his voice. “Your mother...was the only person who showed me kindness when the rest of the palace treated me as if I didn’t belong.” He paused as if remembering the past was more painful than he’d expected. “She was...my only family.”

Shenmiao’s expression softened as she watched him, her own heart touched by the pain in his voice. “She was proud of you, you know,” she murmured, “even after you were sent away. I think she would have fought the emperor himself to protect you if she’d had the power.”

Prince Yu’s gaze shifted back to her, his usually guarded expression more open than she’d ever seen. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a faint glimmer of trust. Shenmiao felt her resolve harden—she would need that trust if she was to succeed.

She placed a hand over her ankle, letting out a quiet sigh. “My own situation here, Little Uncle...it’s not exactly secure.” She hesitated as if weighing her words carefully. “The court’s plans for me...they’re a little more binding than I’d hoped.”

Prince Yu’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Binding? Do you mean to say...they intend to marry you off?”

Shenmiao lowered her gaze, feigning a faint, troubled expression. “Yes. To a prince from the western provinces.” She looked back up at him, allowing a hint of desperation to seep into her eyes. “If I could leave this palace, even just for a little while...”

His jaw clenched, his expression darkening. “You shouldn’t be subjected to such a fate.” He paused, then added, “And you won’t be—not if I have anything to say about it.”

A quiet smile crept onto Shenmiao’s lips. “Thank you, Little Uncle. I...I didn’t want to ask too much of you. You’ve already been through so much.”

But in her heart, Shenmiao knew her plan was working. She had begun to sow the seeds of trust, drawing Prince Yu’s loyalty and protective instincts closer. As she watched him leave the library that night, she knew that soon, she would have the ally she needed. And as for her impending marriage—it was only the first barrier she intended to shatter.

Days later, Shenmiao found herself wandering the quiet halls of the palace, her heart heavy with thoughts of the impending marriage and the trust she was cultivating with Prince Yu. While passing by an open window, she heard hushed voices echoing from the courtyard below. Curiosity piqued, and she moved closer to listen.

Her breath caught in her throat as she peered down through the ornate balustrade, and what she witnessed sent a chill racing down her spine. Prince Yu stood with a high-ranking minister, his demeanor tense. Shenmiao watched, frozen in shock, as a heated argument erupted. The minister’s face twisted with anger, and in an instant, she saw Prince Yu draw a concealed dagger, swift and precise.

The glint of steel caught the light as the minister crumpled to the ground, a look of disbelief etched on his features. Shenmiao gasped, her hand covering her mouth as she realized the weight of what she had just seen. Panic surged through her, but she couldn’t move; she was a silent witness to a crime that could change everything.

As Prince Yu turned, his eyes met hers for a fleeting moment. The look on his face was a mix of horror and understanding. He knew she had seen. At that moment, Shenmiao understood that their trust had to be deeper than words; it was about shared secrets and the burden of loyalty.