If eyes were weapons, his gaze would be a carved blade—sharp, still, and cold enough to be devoid of a heart.
Feng Yuhan, Crown Prince of Southern Yan,
a man renowned for his ruthlessness, his chilling indifference, and his complete distrust of others—even his own ministers.
In her previous life, Xianlan had seen him only once.
But in that fleeting moment… she knew he was not someone to be forgotten.
And this time—
with her memories and clarity from a life once lost,
she had no intention of letting him pass her by again.
⸻
After the banquet ended, Xianlan slipped away from the gilded hall,
pretending to dislike noise and crowds.
In truth, she was waiting—for him.
By the long veranda that stretched past the bamboo grove,
a tall man in black, embroidered with a tiger motif, stood silently.
His jet-black hair was tied back hastily, in the rough style of a warrior—
so unlike the perfectly groomed men of the court.
His indifferent eyes glanced at her only briefly before speaking in a low, even voice.
"Princess Xianlan?"
She offered a polite curtsy.
"Yes, Your Highness. I don't much enjoy all the noise, so I came out for some air."
He gave a slight nod and turned back toward the swaying bamboo.
No pleasantries. No questions.
Just silence—stretching out like a snowy plain.
Xianlan said nothing more.
Because she knew—he was a man who despised useless words.
Silence was the only way to earn real words from him.
And it worked.
"You're not like other palace children,"
he said quietly.
"You're not flighty, not flattering, not startled when stared at…"
"You're more like a chess piece—calculating quietly in the background."
Xianlan chuckled softly, unfazed.
"If I'm a piece… then you must be the board."
"And this game… is becoming quite interesting."
Feng Yuhan turned sharply, his razor-like gaze locking onto her.
But she didn't look away.
Not out of courage—
but because her heart was full of fire.
"What do you want?"
he asked bluntly, with no pretense.
"I want to change the future,"
she answered slowly.
"I want revenge on the stepmother who once killed me."
"I want my father… to finally see who truly deserves his trust."
The words 'once killed me' puzzled him,
but her voice held no hesitation.
⸻
Feng Yuhan didn't respond immediately.
He only studied her in silence, as if calculating the odds.
Then he replied, in that same even tone—
"And why do you think I would help you?"
Xianlan smiled.
Not the smile of a little girl—
but of someone who had once stood on the edge of death.
"Because you don't trust your own people either, do you?"
"You live in a dynasty slowly rotting from within."
"If you were to choose someone to be your eyes and ears in the Kingdom of Li… why not me?"
"I may not be a fragile little sparrow."
"But I am a phoenix… hiding my wings in silence—until the thunder calls."
⸻
Three days later, a secret letter arrived in her hands.
Inside was a hidden map of the inner palace corridors
and an old document once thought destroyed—a record of the Cold Palace's provisions from the year Xianlan was punished.
"Start with the truth no one ever cared to see…"
The writing was concise. No name.
But she knew exactly who it was from.
⸻
A cold-hearted foreign prince,
and a princess reborn from death—
quietly forging an alliance within the shadows of a court laced with lies.
If one was a tiger, and the other a phoenix,
perhaps the heavens never imagined… these two pieces would join forces.
But should they clash—ruin would follow.
Should they unite—the world would tremble.
"Feng Yuhan… I won't trust you completely."
"But we will play this game—together—until the very end of the board."