The Cursed Red String

The Path of No Return

The weight of Han Xun's words pressed against Meiyu's chest like an iron clasp. Ours. The past was not hers alone to uncover; it was a burden they all carried—Weisheng, Han Xun, and herself.

She squared her shoulders, inhaling deeply. "Then tell me, General," she said, voice calm despite the storm raging within. "What is the truth?"

Han Xun studied her, measuring. "Not here." He glanced around, eyes scanning the courtyard. "Meet me in the bamboo grove at dusk. Come alone."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her with more questions than answers.

The day passed in agonizing slowness. Every glance from a passing servant felt like a secret message, every whisper carried the weight of something unseen. Meiyu was painfully aware that she was being watched, and yet, the absence of Weisheng's presence weighed heavier than ever.

She had spent hours trying to uncover what had happened to him, but everyone she questioned feigned ignorance, their eyes darting away too quickly. Fear had settled over the estate like a thick fog, and no one dared to speak the truth.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Meiyu slipped out of the estate, careful to avoid unnecessary attention. The path to the bamboo grove was familiar, yet tonight, it felt foreign, as though unseen eyes lurked between the towering stalks.

When she arrived, Han Xun was already waiting, arms crossed, back straight. The fading sunlight cast his features in harsh relief, his expression unreadable.

"You came," he said.

Meiyu nodded. "I want the truth."

He exhaled, unfolding his arms. "Then listen carefully."

"The cycle began long before you or I took our first breaths." Han Xun's voice was low, steady. "It is a story of betrayal, of love lost and debts unpaid."

Meiyu remained silent, waiting.

"In our past lives, we were bound together in ways beyond mere circumstance. You, Lanying, were the heart of it all. Weisheng, your protector. And me..." he paused, his jaw tightening. "The one who failed you."

A shiver coursed down Meiyu's spine. "What do you mean?"

"You were assassinated, Lanying." Han Xun's gaze bore into hers. "Betrayed from within the palace. And I... I was too late to stop it."

The words sent a shockwave through her, the phantom ache of something long buried pressing against her ribs. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "That's not possible."

"It is," Han Xun said grimly. "And Weisheng—he tried to avenge you. But he, too, met the same fate."

Meiyu took a step back, as though distance would dull the impact of his revelation. The memories that had been creeping at the edges of her mind suddenly surged forward in fragmented flashes—shadows in the corridors, a hand reaching for her as her vision dimmed, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air.

She gasped, clutching her temples as dizziness overwhelmed her. Han Xun caught her before she could collapse. "Breathe," he commanded. "The past is returning to you. Don't fight it."

She forced herself to inhale, her grip tightening on his sleeve. "If we were all bound by this tragedy, then why are we here again? Why now?"

Han Xun hesitated. "Because fate is giving us a chance to change it."

Meiyu stared at him, her heart pounding. "Change it?"

Han Xun's grip on her shoulders firmed. "If we do not break the cycle, history will repeat itself. You will die again. Weisheng will fall trying to protect you. And I..." His expression darkened. "I will fail you once more."

The certainty in his voice sent ice through her veins. "Then we have to stop it," she said, a new determination igniting within her. "We have to find Weisheng and end this cycle."

Han Xun nodded. "Agreed. But we must move carefully. Whoever took Weisheng knows who we are, and they will do everything in their power to keep us from rewriting fate."

Meiyu clenched her fists. "Then let them try."

A faint smile flickered across Han Xun's lips, approval glinting in his eyes. "Then we start tonight."

Meiyu exhaled, steadying herself. She had spent too long trapped between the past and the present, bound by an unseen force she did not understand.

Now, she had a choice.

And she would not squander it.