The Cursed Red String

Shadows Within the Palace

The journey to the Forbidden City was treacherous. The weight of secrecy hung upon Meiyu and Han Xun as they traveled under the cover of darkness, their movements careful, measured. Every step closer brought a chill to Meiyu's bones, not from the cold, but from the realization that once they entered, there would be no turning back.

The city itself loomed ahead, its towering walls and golden rooftops glowing faintly under the moonlight. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their armor glinting as torches flickered in the night. The air carried whispers of the past, voices of those who had walked these halls before them—some who had never walked out.

Han Xun halted near a cluster of trees, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "We need a way in that won't get us both killed."

Meiyu glanced at him, her mind already racing. "The servant's passageways. My past life... she used them before. I still remember the route."

Han Xun nodded. "Then we move now."

Under the cloak of darkness, they slipped through the shadows, navigating the city's outskirts with careful precision. Meiyu's memories guided them, flashes of another life surfacing with every turn. The scent of sandalwood in the air, the cool stone beneath her fingertips—it was all too familiar.

As they reached the servant's entrance, Meiyu pressed herself against the wall, her heartbeat hammering. A single guard stood at the door, his stance relaxed but alert. Han Xun studied him before pulling out a small pouch from his robe.

"Opium," he whispered. "A little in his drink will make things easier."

Meiyu hesitated before nodding. There was no honor in deception, but there was no room for mistakes either. As Han Xun moved forward, quick and silent, she turned her gaze upward to the looming palace gates.

Inside those walls, Weisheng waited. Trapped. Possibly suffering.

Minutes later, the guard slumped forward, his cup slipping from his fingers. Han Xun caught him before he could hit the ground, dragging him to the side. "Go," he murmured.

Meiyu inhaled sharply before slipping inside, Han Xun close behind her. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering glow of lanterns casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. She knew these paths—she had walked them before, lifetimes ago. And now, fate had led her back.

They moved swiftly through the corridors, avoiding the occasional passing servant. Each step closer sent shivers down Meiyu's spine. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became, as though the palace itself was holding its breath.

A voice echoed down the corridor, making them both freeze.

"Did you hear? The prisoner... he is refusing food. The Keepers fear he may attempt to end his own life before the cycle is complete."

Meiyu's breath hitched. Weisheng.

Han Xun's grip on her arm tightened. "We have to move faster."

They pressed forward, deeper into the Forbidden City, the weight of fate pressing upon them with every step. The palace was alive with whispers, secrets woven into its very foundation. And somewhere within its depths, Weisheng awaited—held captive by those who would see the cycle continue forever.

But Meiyu had made her choice.

And she would not leave without him.