*Chapter 1 — Choose Wrong, Die Again*
Xiānguó was "peaceful."
_Peace my ass._
_Oh damn, peace just means the screaming happens where the Emperor can't hear it._
Silk roads. Drunk poets. Markets with no blood on the stones.
Emperor Zhào Róng? "Wise."
Empress Xiàoyì? "Gracious."
_Ligit, the whole capital's a pretty lie._
Cuz if your last name mattered? You knew.
Wrong marriage? Family's gone.
Wrong seat at dinner? Family's gone.
Wrong whisper? Gone. Gone. Gone.
_One wrong move._
_Father says that like it's a lullaby._
_Why does it make my skin go cold?_
Mother's family didn't play.
They _ended_ games.
The Su family.
_Grandpa General Sū Weìguó held the north for forty-seven days._
_Eight thousand men. Barbarians. Winter._
_That's my grandpa._
_Oh, grandpa. For real, I miss u though. You'd look at this and—_
_Stop it.
Grandma Lady Sū? Famine year. Court's "debating."
She kicks the granary open. Feeds everyone. No speech.
_That's Su. You act. You bleed. Then you eat._
_So why do I feel like I'm the one bleeding?_
Father's family? Han.
Merchants. Rich. Smiles with teeth.
Hán ZhìXuān can sell you your own shadow. Make you thank him.
_Father can sell ice to winter. And make you pay extra._
_Oh damn… why did I think that? He's my dad. He—_
_When's the last time he looked at me?_
But merchants don't become Prime Minister alone.
He married Mother. Sū RuìXī.
Her dowry opened the west.
Her father's name got him his job.
Her grandpa's old brothers paved his road.
He climbed. And climbed. And climbed.
Till "Su family's son-in-law" got crossed out.
Now? Just "the Prime Minister."
I think that's when he forgot.
I think that's when he forgot the rope.
_The rope._
_Why do I see rope? Why do I hear wind?_
_Why do my ribs hurt?_
---
I woke up _gasping_.
No dream. No sound.
Just my heart trying to punch through my ribs.
_Oh damn. My chest. It hurts like I slammed into something._
_Like I fell. Like I—_
_Landed wrong._
Morning light. Quiet room.
But my skin was _screaming_.
_Something's wrong. Already._
_…That's dumb. How is it "already" if I just woke up?_
Hand to my head. Sweat. "You're crazy, JiāYì."
_My name sounds fake. Like I stole it._
I sat up. Swung my legs out.
The world _cracked_.
_Pain. Ribs. White. Hot._
_I DIDN'T FALL. BEDS DON'T HAVE CLIFFS._
It wasn't a dream.
It was a _memory_. Not mine.
I saw downstairs. _Now_. But not now.
Mother at the door. Dark robe. Plain. Only her jade bracelet. Two trunks. Rope-tied.
Father in court robes. Crane on his chest. Sash crooked. _Left_.
_He HATES it crooked. He ALWAYS fixes it. How do I know that?_
His mouth moved. _"Your mother and I are divorcing."_
Chén stood there with his arms crossed. Face wiped blank.
Lì was pacing — no, _wearing a path_ in the rug like he could outrun the words.
Míng was sobbing into his sleeves.
And Hán MěiLíng.
Behind Father. Hand on his arm. Crying. Perfect.
_Mother's jade. I SAW IT. Before I saw it._
_Father's sash. LEFT. I SAID LEFT._
_Oh damn, I'm ligit losing it. This isn't—_
Then it _cut_.
MěiLíng hugging Míng. _"Shhh, jiejie's here."_
But her eyes.
One second. Just one.
_Cold_. Counting. _Hungry_.
_NO._
_That's not her. That's not my meimei. That's not—_
_Who held me when I was sick? PROVE IT. WHERE'S THE MEMORY? WHY IS THERE ONLY COLD?_
_…Oh damn, why does my stomach drop like I'm on a balcony? Why is the railing at my back?_
_THERE IS NO BALCONY. STOP._
Back in bed. Shaking. Gasping.
"What the hell was that?" My voice cracked. "Am I ligit insane?"
_For real, you are. Cuz sane girls don't see futures. And sane sisters don't look at brothers like that._
_So pick. Crazy you? Or monster her?_
Xiao Tao burst in, water sloshing. She froze when she saw me. "Young miss! You're white as death! I'll call the physician—"
"No!" It came out too loud. Too scared. I grabbed her wrist. "No. Bad dream. I'm fine. _I'm fine_."
Her eyes went wide. "But—"
"Please," I whispered. "Just… don't."
_Fine. I'm fine. I'm seeing futures and my ribs remember pain, but yeah. Fine._
_Lying works for Father. Maybe it'll work for me._
She dressed me slow. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
It felt _realer_ than my heartbeat. But people don't _see_ things. I'm stressed. That's it.
Right?
_The east wing. Night. Lanterns. Railing too low._
_STOP. You don't know that place._
_Then why do I miss the wind?_
---
Voices hit me at the last stair.
Low. Done. _Final_.
_Oh damn, I know that voice. Father's 'it's decided' voice._
_When did I hear it last?_
I froze. Because it was _the same_.
_No. Coincidence. He's always tired. This is—_
I stepped into the hall.
And went _cold_.
Mother, Sū RuìXī. Door. Dark robe. _Jade bracelet_. Hair sharp. Two trunks. Rope.
She didn't look like a wife.
She looked like a general walking off a battlefield she didn't lose — she _abandoned_.
_The jade. Oh god. It's real._
_I can't breathe._
Father, Hán ZhìXuān. Court robes. Crane. _Sash crooked left_.
_LEFT. I SAID LEFT. Oh damn, I'm gonna throw up._
My brothers. By the stairs. Shattered.
Chén had his arms crossed so tight his knuckles were white. His face was blank — that's his 'I won't break' face. _When did I learn that?_
Lì was pacing. No — he was _ripping_ at his hair, wearing a hole in the rug, muttering something I couldn't hear. _He paces when he thinks we're losing someone._
Míng was clinging to Chén's side, face buried in his sleeve, shoulders shaking with sobs.
_Míng, don't. Please. It makes my chest—_
_Why does his crying make my RIBS ache?_
And MěiLíng.
Behind Father. Hand on his arm. Claiming. Eyes wet. Breakable.
_Her hand. On HIM. Like she owns him._
_No. Stop. She's upset. She's—_
_THEN WHY DO I WANT TO BREAK HER FINGERS?_
Every. Detail. _Exact_.
_I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy._
_Which means the cold eyes were real too._
_No. No no no._
The floor creaked under my foot. They all turned.
"JiāYì," Mother said.
Just my name. But it sounded like _ground_.
_Mother says my name like I won't vanish._
_Why do I feel like I've been vanishing?_
Father exhaled, heavy. He looked older than this morning. "Good, you're awake. Come here." His voice was all Prime Minister now. Flat. Official. "We will talk as a family."
_"As a family." Last time._
_Last time? When was the first?_
I walked. Legs numb. _How did you know how did you know HOW DID YOU KNOW?_
"What's happening?" I hated how small I sounded.
Father didn't look at me. He looked at Mother. Then at all of us. "Your mother and I are divorcing."
Word. For. Word.
_I knew. I KNEW IT. Before he spoke. I knew "divorcing" was next._
_This isn't possible. This isn't—_
Míng made this awful, choked sound and shoved his face harder into Chén's sleeve.
Lì stopped pacing. Just stopped dead. His voice ripped out of him. "Why?" He was looking at Father like he didn't know him. "Father, why?! Seventeen years! We're a family!"
"It's not one thing, Lì." Father rubbed his temple. Tired. _Done_. "We don't agree on priorities. Haven't for years."
"That's not an answer!" Chén didn't shout. He never shouts. His voice just went flat. Like a blade. "That's _nothing_."
Father's jaw ticked. "Your mother thinks I forgot Su values. Discipline. People before court. Honor before gain." He said 'honor' like it tasted bad. "I think… she doesn't understand compromise."
Mother didn't flinch. Her voice could cut steel. "You call it compromise, ZhìXuān. I call it forgetting who held you up. You're ashamed of my father's men. You tell me to be 'softer' for your banquets." Her eyes cut to him. Sharp. "Softer. Like _Lian'er_ is."
The name hit the air.
_Li—_
Father flinched. Actually flinched. Like she'd slapped him.
MěiLíng's breath hitched. Just for a second.
Lì's head snapped up. "Who's Lian'er?"
Chén went still. _Too_ still. "Father?"
Míng rubbed his eyes, confused. "Lian'er? Is she one of our cousins?"
_Sweet melon. I just woke up and I'm in for a show._
_Who the hell is Lian'er? Why does Father look like he swallowed glass?_
Father's mouth opened. Closed. He forced a laugh. Weak. "This isn't— we're not discussing—" He looked at Mother, pleading. "RuìXī, the children don't—"
"Don't what?" Mother's voice was ice. "Don't need to know why their father's sash is always straight when he comes home from _her_ house?"
Oh.
_Oh._
The air in the hall went _dead_.
I looked at Father. At Mother. At MěiLíng, who'd gone white.
And something in my chest went _cold_. And _clear_.
I laughed. Just once. Short. Ugly.
Everyone stared at me.
"Lian'er," I said. My voice didn't shake. It should've. But it didn't. "Lian'er isn't your cousin, Míng."
I looked straight at Father.
"She's your mistress, isn't she?"
Father's face drained of color. "JiāYì—"
"You were cheating." Not a question. A fact. Like saying _the sky is blue_. Like saying _I saw your sash crooked_.
The hall was silent.
Father couldn't look at me. Couldn't look at Mother. Couldn't look at _anyone_.
He just closed his eyes.
And nodded.
Once.
Lì made a sound like he'd been hit. Chén's jaw locked. Míng stared at Father, then at me, then back at Father — confused, _waiting for the joke_.
MěiLíng didn't cry. She didn't breathe.
She just looked at Mother.
So I did too.
Sū RuìXī. My mother. The general's daughter. The woman who opened granaries.
She wasn't looking at Father.
She was looking at _me_.
And for one second — one _honest_ second — her face broke.
Not tears. Not anger.
_Relief._
Like she'd been holding her breath for sixteen years.
Like I'd finally said the word she couldn't.
Like I'd just _freed_ her.
Then it was gone. Stone again. Wall again.
She turned to Father. Voice flat. No steel. No ice. Just _done_.
"Pack your things, JiāYì."
She looked at me one more time.
"We're leaving."