The lotus pavilion glowed under the evening lanterns.
Soft light danced across the water, petals drifting gently across the surface.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Deceptive.
—
Xueying stepped into the pavilion.
Every movement felt watched.
Measured.
Calculated.
"Princess Xueying," Meilin greeted warmly. "You came."
Xueying bowed slightly.
"You invited me."
Meilin smiled.
"Of course. We are family, after all."
The word felt wrong.
Heavy.
False.
—
Several noble ladies sat around the pavilion, their laughter light but their eyes sharp.
"Please, sit," Meilin said.
Xueying took her place.
Tea was poured.
Conversations flowed.
But beneath it all—
Something felt off.
—
"You've been quite bold lately," one lady said casually.
"Leaving the palace… speaking openly…"
"Very unusual," another added.
Xueying didn't react.
"I simply chose not to hide."
"Or perhaps," Meilin cut in smoothly, "you're trying to prove something."
Xueying met her gaze.
"…Perhaps."
A flicker of tension passed between them.
—
"Let's move closer to the water," Meilin suddenly suggested.
"The view is better."
No one refused.
—
The edge of the pavilion overlooked the lotus pond.
Dark water.
Still.
Too still.
—
Xueying stepped forward.
One step.
Two.
Then—
Something shifted beneath her foot.
A loose plank.
Her balance faltered.
And before she could react—
She fell.
—
The cold hit instantly.
Sharp.
Violent.
The water closed over her head.
Darkness swallowed everything.
—
Above—
Gasps filled the pavilion.
"She fell!"
"Oh no—!"
But no one moved.
Not immediately.
Because for a split second—
Zhao Meilin didn't react at all.
She just watched.
—
Under the water—
Xueying struggled.
Her clothes dragged her down, heavy and suffocating.
Her breath burned.
Her body panicked.
Not like this…
Her thoughts blurred.
Her arms moved weakly.
The surface felt too far.
Too distant.
—
Then—
A splash.
Strong.
Decisive.
—
Someone had jumped in.
—
Arms wrapped around her.
Firm.
Unyielding.
Pulling her up.
—
Air.
Cold.
Sharp.
Painful.
Xueying gasped as she broke through the surface, coughing violently.
"Xueying!"
That voice—
—
Gu Yichen.
—
He held her tightly as he pulled her toward the edge.
His grip didn't loosen.
Not for a second.
—
"Are you alright?" his voice was low, tense.
Too tense.
Xueying tried to speak, but her body trembled too much.
"I—"
Her voice broke.
—
Yichen's expression darkened as he looked up.
At the pavilion.
At them.
At her.
—
Zhao Meilin stood frozen for a moment.
Then—
"Oh my—!" she rushed forward. "How could this happen?!"
Her voice was perfect.
Her concern flawless.
But her eyes—
They flickered.
Just slightly.
—
Yichen saw it.
And in that moment—
Something inside him shifted completely.
—
This wasn't an accident.