The Blood-Stained Empress

C8: Fingernail Marks

*
Ying Nurong's eyes dim, but she raises her lips into a graceful and poised smile. "Xingxing, what are you talking about? Silly girl, did you dream of visiting the underworld last night? You're going to be seeing the crown prince."

    Li Meixing releases her grip on Ying Nurong and abruptly takes a step back. "The... the crown prince?" A hummingbird flits past her vision. Li Meixing looks around herself and, for the first time, notices the familiar old willow tree, the translucent stream that runs past fields of peonies, and the majestic red beams that form the entrance to the Li fu's garden pavilion. But the low artificial mountains that were built beyond the stream and the striking red koi fish gifted by the former emperor aren't there.

    Isn't this the Li fu of the past?

    She should be dead. What happened seemingly just moments ago had to have happened. Nothing was a dream; everything was all too vivid. And now? Is she hallucinating? No, she can't be. The breeze blowing against her cheek is real. The stiffness of her dress is real. The rhythmic beating in her chest is real.

Li Meixing lets out a shaky breath and leans over as a wave of dizziness washes over her. She really has returned to the past.

A sudden coldness seeps into Li Meixing's core before being overcome by a flaming passion. Her heart rate accelerates until the only thing that she can hear is her own pulse, beating faster and faster and filling the world with the one singular desire that seared through her mind as she stepped up that scaffold: she must save her family.

    Li Meixing takes a deep breath and follows behind Ying Nurong. Her fingers quiver uncontrollably, and she clasps them tightly to each other so that her skin turns deathly pale. A soft voice flits into her mind. "Xingxing, I promise you...I promise you... that I will succeed. And when I succeed, you will be empress. I won't let anyone harm you."

    The sincerity in his eyes was so clear, so beautiful. Every syllable was a melody that seduced her heart to dance. She saw his every dream, painted to perfection, and she wonders when that painting no longer included her.

    But now—her breath hitches when she catches sight of the figure permanently etched into memory—this is her chance to find out. What she experienced in the past is no longer possible. Her childhood of love, happiness, and innocence will not suffice. She knows, now, that after all of those years of being shielded by an umbrella of naivety, only death awaits her and her family.

He took everything she loved away from her. She needs to do more this time. She needs to prevent it all from happening again.

    This is her chance.

    "Greetings to Your Royal Highness," Ying Nurong says as she approaches two figures that appear to be conversing with each other. Li Meixing lowers her line of vision and follows behind her mother. "Prince Huang Siming, this is Li Meixing, my daughter."

    "Greetings to Your Royal Highness," Li Meixing murmurs with a curtsy. "It is a pleasure to meet you." She keeps her eyes lowered toward the ground.

    A pair of shoes enter her vision, and a familiar voice responds, "Greetings to Ying Nurong and Li da xiaojie. Li da xiaojie, Prime Minister Li has told me much about you." Prime Minister Li, who was originally discussing something with the prince, signals to his wife for the two of them to step down. They announce their farewells and leave Li Meixing alone with the prince.

    Li Meixing forces a smile onto her lips and, struggling to prevent her voice from quivering, asks, "Ah, really? But I haven't heard much about Your Highness." She gestures to the near distance. "Would Your Highness like a tour of the garden?"

    "Sure. What would you like to know about me?" The prince pauses for a moment before suggesting, "Or rather, why are you so scared to look at me?"

    Li Meixing sucks in a breath and, left with no other choice, slowly raises her eyes to meet his. His eyes are a deep, penetrating brown that seem to unsettlingly probe into her innermost thoughts. For a moment, she's unsure of what to say or how to act. She's certain that the fear and hatred that she possesses for him are clearly written in her own expression.

    Huang Siming's lips raise into a smile. "Not too hard, I presume?"

    Li Meixing's eyes flicker downwards. Every time she looks at him, she's reminded of his nonchalant gaze staring back at her right before her death. She takes a deep breath and silently wills herself to be stronger. "Please, follow me." She leads him across a short bridge overlooking a lotus pond and begins to explain the various stories behind each plant and structure. Her voice sounds flat in her ears, but once in awhile, she's able to point out something interesting that draws an appreciative smile from Huang Siming and masks the swirling of emotions in her own eyes.

The two of them visit the artificial mountains, the set of waterfalls overlooking the Li fu, and the garden of crimson peonies that was planted by Li Meixing's mother. As the morning passes, Li Meixing gradually becomes more comfortable with her role as an actress; the smile hanging from her lips loosens, her eyes curl into natural crescent moons, and her voice becomes more expressive. She also begins to analyze him from the corner of her eyes. His appearance, though plain as a whole, is striking in the intelligence and unpredictability conveyed by his eyes. Each expression of his is deliberate, and his every word is calculated to elicit a certain emotion or response. As Li Meixing turns her face to observe his side profile, she suddenly realizes the sheer enormity of what she needs to do.

The man before her has everything prepared before him. At an age where, in the original timeline, she was idly playing children's games and climbing trees, he has already begun to set up the framework for what is to happen in four years. He knows what he needs to do and what he wants to happen, and his vision of a vast nation underneath his rule is likely set in stone by now.

He's a stranger to her. How could she have ever loved him when she never knew what he was thinking? When she never realized what he was planning? The difference between the two of them is enormous.

"We've reached the end of the Li garden, Your Highness."

Huang Siming smiles. "In that case, I'll return to the palace. Many thanks to Li da xiaojie for the tour."

Li Meixing curtsies. "It was nothing. If Your Highness wishes to return, the Li fu is always welcome and more than willing to receive your presence."

"En, then I'll keep that in mind." He turns around to leave before nonchalantly adding, "Li da xiaojie's hands must hurt, no?"

With a start, Li Meixing glances down at her hands and suddenly becomes aware of the red scratch marks imprinted on her skin. Her fingernails had been digging into her hands the entire time.

When she raises her head again, Huang Siming is nowhere in sight, and the only person left in the near vicinity is herself. No longer having to keep up with appearances, Li Meixing collapses onto the ground and stares up at the grey sky.

This won't do; she's no match for him as of now. If she is to have any hope of succeeding in changing the destiny of the Li family, she'll need to become just as cunning as he is.