"Ling'er... I miss you," the Empress whispered to the silence. Her voice trembled as her fingers brushed the silk sash folded beside her. "I only hope… you won't hate us for letting you grow up alone in that world."
The memory of her stepsister's tear-streaked face returned vividly—
"Please, make sure Ling'er never knows. Let her live the life I never could…"
"Ye'er, don't leave me! You promised—you promised to stay with me, with your father, with our daughter!" cried Jiehong, cradling his dying wife. His voice cracked with despair. "How do I live without you?"
Yue Yue(fondly called as Ye'er), Yue Ling's mother—smiled through the pain.
"I love you, Jiehong. In this life, the next… I will always marry you again. But now… I must protect what matters."
She turned to her sister. Her face, once radiant, was now drenched in blood and tears.
"Please," she gasped, reaching into her sleeve, "protect the Empress. Protect the crown. Protect Ling'er."
She drew out a thin, crescent-shaped pendant—The Twin Moon Relic, forged from moonstone and ancient jade, once worn by them both as girls. With trembling fingers, she snapped it in half.
One piece, she pressed into her sister's hand.
"Give this to Juan (Xueyin's mother)when the world turns black. If she (Yueling) ever finds the Crown…" Ye'er's voice broke, her blood staining the relic,
"Protect her. Even if it means… turning her against you."
The metallic scent of death filled the air.
The memory snapped like a broken mirror.
Present Day
Empress Qing Tian's fingers clenched the fake imperial crown so tightly that blood seeped from her palm. The metal's jagged edge had bitten into her skin again.
Tears streamed down her face, falling silently. Her expression was calm—but within, a storm raged.
"So much blood to hide one truth..."
She remembered the thunderstorm years ago—how lightning had nearly struck out of nowhere. She had panicked then, thinking Old Yue had secretly helped Ling'er cultivate. The idea had terrified her. Yet… a part of her wanted to see the girl again.
Lost in that longing, she didn't hear the footsteps until someone wrapped an arm around her waist.
Startled, she masked her expression and, with a soft flow of spiritual energy, wiped the bloodstains and tears away.
"My husband," she said sweetly, turning in the Emperor's arms. "To what do I owe this visit?"
The Emperor smiled with that same warmth he gave to the world—but never to her.
"Qingtian, why does your chamber smell of tears and blood? Are you unwell? If there's anything you need, anything at all—I'll do it for you."
She smiled.
So this is what concern feels like.
"Then stay with me tonight," she said gently. "Just hold me."
But the Emperor's smile faded. "Not tonight. There's much to attend to." He let go, adjusting his robes. "Rest well."
And just like that—he left.
Empress Qing Tian stood alone, unmoving.
The doors closed behind him.
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Only if…"
Only if he could see me.
Only if he would look twice…
Only if he gave to me what he gives to them.
Only if he loved me like he once did…
But she had long learned that "only ifs" were for those who could afford to hope.
With a single breath, she turned toward her moonlit chamber. Her hand tightened around the fake crown once more… the weight of secrets pressing down like mountains.