Shi Yao's eyes snapped open.
His breath came sharply, as if his lungs had been suffocating under layers of illusion. Cold air pressed against his skin, cutting through the lingering haze of the dream.
He was lying on a stiff mattress, the familiar scent of damp stone and aged wood surrounding him.
Shi Yao sat up abruptly, scanning his surroundings.
The Cold Palace.
Back where it all began.
Had he truly woken up?
His fingers pressed against the sheets beneath him—they felt real. Solid. Tangible.
Yet… his pulse remained quickened, his muscles still tense—his mind screamed at him to doubt.
Then—a voice.
Li Yuan's.
"You're awake."
Shi Yao turned. Li Yuan stood near the door, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
And for the first time, Shi Yao felt uncertainty creep into his thoughts.
Was this truly waking life?
Or was it just another layer?
Shi Yao didn't immediately respond to Li Yuan.
He flexed his fingers, pressing them against the mattress beneath him again—solid, tangible, real.
Yet, after everything, could he trust his own senses?
Li Yuan studied him carefully, then spoke again. "You hesitated."
Shi Yao sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Wouldn't you?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then, to his surprise, Li Yuan smirked faintly. "Fair."
Shi Yao glanced around the chamber, trying to ground himself in its details—the aged wood, the scent of old parchment and faint incense, the dim glow from the lantern near the door.
Everything felt right. Familiar.
And yet, deep in his gut, the unease persisted.
Li Yuan shifted, crossing his arms. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Shi Yao hesitated, his mind sorting through fragmented flashes—the breakfast, his aunt's unnatural calm, the glow outside the window, the moment everything warped.
"Breaking the illusion."
Li Yuan nodded slightly, as if that was the answer he'd expected.
Shi Yao frowned. "How do we know this isn't just another layer?"
Li Yuan's smirk faded. "We don't."
The admission sat heavily between them.
Then—a sudden knock at the door.
Shi Yao tensed. Li Yuan turned sharply.
The sound wasn't urgent or aggressive—but it carried a weight, like whoever was outside wasn't just requesting entry.
They were waiting for permission to step inside.
Li Yuan exchanged a glance with Shi Yao, then moved toward the door, his movements steady but guarded.
Shi Yao held his breath.
The door creaked open—revealing the elderly eunuch.
And he simply said—
"It's time."
The elderly eunuch's cryptic words hung in the air. "It's time."
Shi Yao exchanged a glance with Li Yuan, both of them tense with cautious anticipation.
Time for what?
The eunuch stepped further inside; his expression unreadable. "The trial. The palace demands resolution."
Shi Yao felt his pulse quicken. Resolution? Did they need to uncover the truth behind the grudge? Were they finally confronting the source?
Li Yuan straightened; his gaze sharp. "Where?"
The eunuch's lips curled ever so slightly, as if he had expected that question.
"The heart of the Cold Palace."
Shi Yao felt a chill creep up his spine.
Whatever awaited them there wasn't going to be forgiving.