Despite the clues we had uncovered, the investigation had stalled. Every lead seemed to twist into another dead end, and whatever momentum we had built began to dissolve into silence. I spent most of my time wandering the library, combing through ancient scrolls in the hope of understanding the strange light that had burst from me in the cave. But the search was maddening. Each scroll whispered promises of answers only to dissolve into irrelevant incantations, outdated cultivation theory, or worse—pages so faded they may as well have been blank.
The frustration was constant, and it clung to me like a second skin. Each fruitless hour left me more anxious, more adrift. I had hoped to find something—anything—that could explain what I had become a part of. But the silence of the library gave me nothing but time to doubt myself.
Outside the quiet confines of parchment and dust, the palace was no better. The tension had thickened. Noblemen and officials walked the halls like they were threading through a battlefield—measured steps, clipped words, and eyes that no longer trusted the faces around them. The ambassadors, once eager participants in the court's glittering affairs, now watched each other with barely veiled suspicion. Lan Xichen's unrelenting interrogations, necessary though they were, did little to ease the pressure. If anything, they made the walls feel smaller.
And then the breaking point came.
Under orders from the King himself, Lan Xichen was forced to lift the curfew and allow the visiting ambassadors to return to their kingdoms. It was a political decision, masked as mercy. Faces eased. Tension loosened. And yet, beneath the surface, nothing was truly resolved. Their departure was like closing a book mid-chapter.
That afternoon, as I was buried in yet another ancient scroll, the sound of approaching footsteps broke my concentration. I looked up to see Jian Yi and Ming Yu standing before me.
Jian Yi offered a polite smile, but there was a weight in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "Mei Lin. Our time here is over. I wanted to see you personally… and say goodbye."
The words hit harder than I expected.
I stood up slowly, trying to smile, but my chest felt too tight. "I heard. So you're leaving for Daqi?"
Jian Yi nodded. "The ambassadors are departing today. We're returning with them."
I turned to Ming Yu, hoping—stupidly—for something I didn't even have the right to expect. His expression was gentle,and that made my heart clench.
Ming Yu's gaze softened, tinged with sadness. "Mei Lin, maybe next time, we'll see each other again."
I chuckled weakly, but the sadness lingered. "I hope so. Please be safe on your journey back."
As they turned to leave, I watched them go, feeling a mix of emotions. Their departure marked the end of a chapter, and I couldn't help but wonder when, or if, I would see them again.
***
A month passed, and during that time, I buried myself in work at the infirmary. With the palace still reeling from the aftermath of the poisoning, I needed a distraction—something useful, something challenging. So naturally, I decided to do the most absurdly ambitious thing I could think of: create an IV bag.
Unlike those time-travel dramas where the heroine casually whips up antibiotics and builds a generator before lunch, I was stuck with trial, error, and a lot of skeptical looks.
With Old Liang's reluctant help, I sketched out a rough prototype—a dried animal bladder for the fluid pouch, a hollowed bamboo stem for the tubing, and a thin, sharpened bone needle for insertion. The concept made sense in my head. Execution? That was another story.
The blacksmith raised a brow when I showed him the needle design. "You want a sharp bone with a hole in the middle?" he asked, scratching at his beard like I'd just asked him to forge a sword out of moonlight.
"Yes," I said, trying to project a confidence I absolutely did not feel. "It has to pierce the skin but still let fluid pass through. Think of it like… a hollow thorn."
Old Liang crossed his arms and grunted in his usual tone of begrudging support. "It's weird. But she's clever. If anyone can pull it off, it's her."
The blacksmith gave me a dubious look, then shrugged. "I'll try. But don't blame me if it leaks everywhere or stabs someone the wrong way."
After he left, Old Liang eyed the animal bladder on the table like it might explode. "You really think this thing can hold liquid and not rot?"
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "We're not living in a fantasy novel. Nothing works perfectly the first time. But if we can figure this out, we might be able to save lives. It's worth the try."
Old Liang let out a low grunt that might've been agreement—or indigestion. "Then let's get to work. If it's going to fail, we might as well fail fast and move on."
Not exactly the most motivational pep talk, but in his own way, I think he was rooting for me.
Every day, I worked late into the night, barely leaving the infirmary. I pored over old texts, studied herbs until my eyes ached, and experimented with remedies that sometimes worked and sometimes… didn't. The absence of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian for nearly a month gnawed at me like a dull toothache. But instead of sulking, I threw myself into work. If I couldn't fix my emotions, I could at least try to fix people.
One quiet afternoon, a servant girl arrived, shifting nervously at the infirmary door. "Miss Mei Lin, Madam Hui requests your presence in the kitchen."
I blinked. "The kitchen?"
"Yes," she said with a hurried bow. "She said it's urgent."
Still wiping my hands on a cloth, I followed her. When we arrived, the kitchen was its usual flurry of clattering pots and sharp orders. Madam Hui was at the center of it all, looking like a general commanding troops rather than a palace matron overseeing pastries.
She looked up as I entered. "Miss Mei Lin. I need you to bake a cake for Prince Wei."
I stared at her. "Prince Wei?"
She nodded briskly. "Yes. He's requested something special, and since your cakes are now somewhat infamous around here…"
Seriously? A cake? After a whole month of radio silence? I hadn't heard a single word from Wei Wuxian since the night he stormed out of my room like I'd personally betrayed him with a sword to the back. And now he wanted dessert?
What kind of passive-aggressive apology was that supposed to be?
I sighed, pushing the irritation down where I kept all my other inconvenient emotions. "Of course, Madam Hui," I said evenly. "I'll get started right away."
As I began gathering the ingredients, my internal grumbling kicked into full gear. So let me get this straight—I've been buried in the infirmary, elbow-deep in herbal experiments and existential dread, trying to decode a magical light explosion that nearly got me killed. Meanwhile, he's been off sulking in dramatic silence. And now, suddenly, a cake is supposed to make everything better? Really?
The nerve.
Still, as I cracked the eggs and stirred the batter, a tiny, traitorous flicker of warmth stirred in my chest. Maybe—just maybe—this was his way of reaching out. A strange, roundabout, baked-goods kind of olive branch. Maybe it wasn't about the cake itself, but what it represented: a quiet step toward reconciliation. Or maybe I was just projecting emotional depth onto flour and sugar again. Hard to say.
I muttered to myself the entire time, alternating between sarcastic commentary and overly hopeful what-ifs as I poured the batter and slid it into the clay oven.
When the cake was finally done—golden and sweet-smelling—I placed it carefully on a tray, hands steady despite the mess in my head. Madam Hui inspected it like a general approving her troops, gave a small nod, and gestured for me to follow.
We moved through the palace corridors in silence until we reached the garden. I clutched the tray a little tighter, unsure if I was bringing dessert... or walking straight into something I wasn't ready to face.
As we stepped outside, I came to a halt, momentarily stunned by the transformation. The garden looked like something out of a dream—an elaborate picnic scene plucked from the pages of a fairytale. Delicate lanterns dangled from the trees, casting a warm, golden glow that danced across the leaves. Plush cushions and low tables were arranged in a graceful semi-circle on the grass, each one adorned with fresh flowers and silken runners. Colorful tapestries were spread across the ground, creating little islands of comfort under the twilight sky. The scent of blooming jasmine hung thick in the air, mingling with the gentle trickle of a nearby fountain.
And there they were.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji sat amid the soft lantern light, the two of them framed like the final scene of a romantic drama. They looked so at ease—like the chaos of the last month had never touched them. Wei Wuxian looked up first, that infuriatingly charming grin blooming across his face. Lan Wangji, composed as ever, gave me a quiet nod of acknowledgment, but I noticed the way his eyes lingered on me a second longer than usual.
"Mei Lin, you made it!" Wei Wuxian called out, his tone warm and teasing, eyes alight with mischief.
I walked over, balancing the cake tray and my inner monologue. I was still mildly annoyed, wasn't I? Or supposed to be?
"Prince Wei. Hanguang-jun," I said, bowing just enough to be polite—but not too polite. Just enough to make a point.
Wei Wuxian laughed. "So formal now? Come on, sit with us. We've missed you."
That did it. All the irritation I'd tried to cling to melted faster than butter on a hot skillet. They missed me? Fangirl mode: activated. I was pathetic. All it took was a picnic setup and a smile, and suddenly I couldn't even remember what I was mad about.
"Thank you," I said, a little too softly, and took a seat beside them, feeling a familiar flutter in my chest.
Lan Wangji's gaze softened as he looked at me. "Thank you for the cake," he said, his voice steady and serene as ever.
I offered a small smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I hope it tastes alright. It's been a while since I last baked."
Wei Wuxian chuckled, leaning forward to inhale the scent. "With a smell like that? It's bound to be amazing. Let's enjoy tonight, just the three of us—for once, no chaos."
As we settled in, the tension of the past few weeks seemed to lift like morning mist. Surrounded by soft light and familiar faces, I almost let myself believe things had gone back to normal. For a moment, it was easy to pretend we were just friends gathered under lanterns, and not part of a tangled web of danger, power, and politics.
After a while, Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, his smile fading into something quieter. "Mei Lin," he said, his voice unusually serious, "I owe you an apology… for how I acted. I always lose my temper when Jian Yi's involved. It's… complicated. And I let it get the better of me."
I looked at him, feeling the sincerity behind his words, and gave him a gentle smile. "It's okay, Wei Ying. Everyone has their limits. I get it."
He exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "Thank you… for not holding it against me."
I hesitated, then decided to prod—gently. "There's a lot of history between everyone here. It's been… eye-opening. Jian Yi clearly rubs you the wrong way, but is it like that with all the nobles from Daqi?"
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian exchanged a glance. Lan Wangji was the first to respond, his tone measured. "Jian Yi is… difficult. But not all nobles of Daqi are like him."
Wei Wuxian nodded. "No, definitely not. We've known the Daqi royals since we were young. Jian Yi's cousin, Liu Ming Yu, is someone we respect. He's… different. Thoughtful. Steady. Nothing like his cousin."
Something fluttered in my chest at the mention of Ming Yu, and I quickly looked down at the plate in front of me, hoping neither of them noticed.
"Liu Ming Yu? What's he like?" I asked, trying to sound casual but clearly fishing.
Wei Wuxian's face softened into a fond smile. "Ming Yu is the son of the former princess of Daqi—Jian Yi's aunt. She gave up her title to marry a commoner and moved here under my mother's protection. He's lived in the palace ever since. Grew up with us, really. He's the kind of person who walks into a room and immediately makes everyone breathe easier. Rational, kind, always keeping the peace. He was like a big brother to us."
A quiet sense of relief bloomed in my chest. So, they liked him. They trusted him. That was… unexpectedly reassuring. "Sounds like the kind of person every court needs," I murmured.
Lan Wangji nodded. "It's unfortunate he couldn't join the visit. Perhaps next time, we'll introduce you."
I nearly choked on my own breath. Introduce me? Oh no, no need—I've already met him, got saved by him, blushed like a fool in front of him. But of course, I couldn't say that. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot. "I'd like that," I said, my voice a little too high, a little too breathy. Calm down, Mei Lin, you're embarrassing yourself in front of your two favorite fictional characters.
Trying to steer the conversation—and my expression—back to something safer, I added lightly, "So… Do Daqi nobles usually have arranged marriages? Or should I be emotionally prepared to get stabbed by another jealous betrothal?"
I shot a glance at Lan Wangji with a teasing smirk, and he visibly stiffened—just a flicker, but it was there. Like someone had deflated a very serious, very elegant balloon.
"I'm joking, Lan Zhan," I said quickly, laughing under my breath. "Yufei wasn't that terrifying. I'm not afraid of her."
Lan Wangji gave me a long, unreadable look. Then, finally—finally—his mouth tugged up in the faintest curve. Just enough to count.
Wei Wuxian grinned, elbowing him. "See? She survived Yufei. That makes her braver than half the generals."
Wei Wuxian chuckled, but then his smile faded slightly, his brow furrowing like a thought had just landed with a thud. He leaned in a little, his tone shifting. "Wait a minute… Are you asking if Jian Yi has a betrothal? Do you like Jian Yi?"
My eyes widened. "No!" The word shot out of me like it had been catapulted. "It's not like that at all! I am just teasing Lan Zhan"
Yeah not really, I was fishing for info about Ming Yu obviously.
He didn't look fully convinced. "Good," he said, watching me too closely. "Because I wouldn't like it if you did."
That gave me pause. Concern? Jealousy? I couldn't tell.
I inhaled slowly and met his gaze head-on. "Wei Ying, I promise—I don't have feelings for Jian Yi. He's just a friend. That's all."
Wei Wuxian relaxed a little, his grin returning. "Alright, just making sure. As far as we know, neither of them is betrothed yet. People say they're the most sought-after bachelors in Daqi. Ming Yu, definitely. Jian Yi? Eh... questionable."
Lan Wangji let out a quiet, almost imperceptible chuckle and added, "Jian Yi, however, will likely need to marry someone who can help him secure political power. He is a candidate for the crown."
That sparked a thought. I tilted my head. "And what about Liu Ming Yu?"
Lan Wangji hesitated. Just for a beat. "Ming Yu is… different. But it isn't our story to share."
Wei Wuxian nodded, his tone turning more solemn. "It's personal. You'll have to hear it from him directly."
I nodded, trying not to show how frustrated and interested I was. What does "different" mean? Is he secretly married? A monk? A heartbreaker? Oh god, is he not into women? WHY is this so vague?
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji exchanged a glance, one of those telepathic bro-stares that meant something serious was coming.
"We've been busy for the past month," Wei Wuxian said, his smile fading completely now. "The King assigned us to review records from the Ministry of Revenue."
He continued, "There is a concerning matter. Palace rations meant for the southern regions—especially in the flood-prone areas—have not arrived. Supplies are missing. People are suffering."
My brow furrowed. "So someone's stealing from the relief effort?"
Wei Wuxian's jaw tensed. "It looks that way. And we intend to find out who."
Wei Wuxian leaned in, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief and purpose. "We're heading south to investigate the missing rations. And... we were thinking—maybe you'd like to come with us?"
I blinked, caught off guard. "Join you? On the investigation?"
My mind immediately filled with flashes of winding roads, unknown cities, mystery, and… them. Traveling with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji? It sounded like something out of an adventure novel. Before I could speak, Lan Wangji's calm voice cut in.
"Your perspective may prove useful," he said evenly. "You see things differently from the rest of us."
That warmed me. A lot. I smiled, the decision made without hesitation. "I'd love to go. When do we leave?"
Wei Wuxian grinned. "In a week. Enough time to prepare."
I nodded, heart already racing ahead, filled with anticipation. But then Wei Wuxian's expression shifted. The sparkle dimmed, replaced by something heavier—more vulnerable.
"There's… something else I need to say," he began, his voice quieter now. "And a confession."
That word—confession—made me sit straighter. "What is it?" I asked carefully.
He took a breath. "Your current status in the palace... is complicated. Officially, you're my guest. You saved my life. You've been helping in the infirmary. But," he hesitated, "things are tense. People are beginning to question who you really are."
I frowned. "Why? I'm not anyone important. Just… me."
Wei Wuxian looked at me, almost apologetically. "You're not registered. You're not a noble, not a servant, not a palace scholar or healer—at least not officially. Right now, you're just… a girl of marrying age, living in the Prince's Palace, under my protection. That alone is enough to spark rumors. There was an assassination attempt. Qiu Yan's incident. You've been seen with me and Lan Zhan too often. It's giving people... ideas."
The weight of his words settled in my chest. "Ideas?"
He nodded grimly. "Whispers. Scandals. It's getting harder for me to justify your presence here without an official reason and sending you to the main palace. If I don't formally change your status, the court will demand you be transferred to the main palace under Queen Li Hua's authority. It's protocol—to prevent scandal and protect the royal family's reputation."
My stomach dropped. Being placed under Queen Li Hua meant being pulled into her political games, her cold smiles, and veiled threats. I could already feel the iron bars of invisible rules closing in.
Wei Wuxian exhaled slowly, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "I know this sounds selfish… but you're the only one who knows the truth about me and Lan Zhan. I was hoping you'd help us keep that secret safe."
My brows furrowed, wary. "Help how?"
He met my gaze, steady and serious. "By becoming my consort."
I stared at him.
Silence.
My brain lagged like a broken internet connection. Did he just say—his what? Did I mishear that? Surely he didn't mean—"Consort" as in… marriage??? What in the actual royal soap opera is happening right now?!
He rushed on, clearly sensing the short-circuit in my brain. "In name only. This way, I'll have an excuse to avoid being forced into a marriage with someone else. You'll be under my official protection, with status and freedom to stay in my palace. You won't have to answer to the Queen or be transferred into her court."
He paused, letting that sink in before adding, "If you ever fall in love with someone else… I won't stop you. I'll support you. You'll still have autonomy. But without this… they'll force you into someone else's control. You won't be safe."
My inner monologue screamed into a void: Excuse me? So I enter a fake royal marriage just to block some political matchmaking?! And he'll 'support my future relationships'? What is this, a contractual agreement with bonus heartbreak clauses?!
I looked at him—the character I used to squeal over from behind a screen. The one I swore to protect as a fan. But this… this wasn't fanfiction. This was my life. My heart. My possible love story. Was I really about to lock myself into a palace marriage just to protect his?
My voice, when it came out, was shaky and laced with disbelief. "Wei Wuxian… do you even hear yourself? This is madness!"
He didn't flinch. "I know."
"Madness," I repeated, half laughing, half on the verge of a breakdown. "Do you know what people would say? What would that mean?"
"Yes," he replied softly. "Which is why I'm asking you. Not ordering. Not demanding. Just asking—for trust."
He looked at me with those earnest eyes—eyes full of sincerity and just the right amount of desperation to make my defenses wobble. "I know it's a lot to ask, Mei Lin. But I wouldn't ask if I didn't believe this was the best way to keep you safe—and to keep Lan Zhan and me free. When I realized you were the only one who accepted our love without judgment… I had hope. Maybe I could be with him, without being forced to marry someone who could destroy everything if she ever found out. If that happened, we'd both be facing a death sentence."
I blinked at him. "Wow. Wei Wuxian. Are you seriously trying to guilt trip me right now?"
I threw my hands in the air. "So let me get this straight. I become your fake wife, while you and Lan Zhan have secret candlelit rendezvous behind the curtains. And me? I just sit here like some palace side character, tragically pining for a future I gave up? What if I want a family someday? Oh no—don't even go there. I am not having your child. That's not happening!"
(Not that I'd planned to have kids anyway, but still! That's my decision, not part of some royal drama cover-up.)
Wei Wuxian winced like I'd slapped him. "It's not like that, Mei Lin. I promise. I'll do everything I can to make sure you're comfortable, supported, free to live however you want. And if you fall in love? I'll help you. I'll protect you. You'll have more power and freedom than any unmarried woman in the palace."
I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to think logically, not emotionally. "And what if I fall in love with someone from another country?" I asked, testing the waters. "Like... hypothetically?"
Wei Wuxian's eyes narrowed instantly. "Like who? Jian Yi?? Seriously, Mei Lin?!"
I winced. "No! Not Jian Yi. Calm down. I'm just asking a hypothetical question."
He relaxed slightly, but the suspicion didn't completely fade. "Well, in that case… if you're registered as my concubine, you can't openly marry someone from another royal family. That would cause a diplomatic nightmare. You'd be considered part of my people. Unless you plan to marry someone foreign soon… yeah, your choices are kind of limited."
I stood there, trying to absorb the absurdity of it all. This wasn't just a wild idea—it was a full-blown palace scheme with social consequences, political games, and oh, right, my entire personal future at stake.
Still… the desperation in his voice wasn't fake. This was his way of protecting Lan Wangji. Of protecting me. And somehow, beneath all the madness, I got it.
I swallowed hard. "Alright," I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. "I need time to think about it. A real decision, not just a yes born out of panic or guilt."
Wei Wuxian exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Of course. Take the time you need. Just… don't take too long."
As I walked away, my thoughts were a chaotic tangle of duty, freedom, love, and something like dread. A few months ago, I was a fangirl binge-watching a fantasy series. Now? I was one royal signature away from being a consort in a fake marriage to protect two soulmates.
What even was my life?