Chapter 2:

       Warmth. Softness. The faint scent of sandalwood.

Liu Mei's eyelashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar, lined with elegantly carved wooden beams, each one polished and gleaming, reflecting the soft morning light filtering through sheer silk drapes that danced gently in the breeze. The bedding beneath her was far too luxurious soft, thick, and scented faintly with herbs. A warmth surrounded her body, comforting and alien.

She blinked slowly, trying to sit up, but her body felt heavy, as if it had been waterlogged and left in the sun to dry. Her limbs ached faintly, her head throbbed, and her breath came out shallow and fragile.

Then it hit her.

Not a pain of the flesh, but of the mind,sharp, consuming, and unrelenting. Like an unstoppable tide crashing against the fragile walls of her thoughts, wave after wave of unfamiliar memories stormed into her consciousness.

She gasped, clutching her temples as her vision blurred under the flood.

The Liu Manor.

She was the Di daughter of the great Liu household, born of the official wife, not a concubine. Her name was revered. Her position unshakable. She was raised in silk and gold, her every whim indulged by a father who wore bloodied armor but spoke gently to her, and by brothers who towered over others in the capital, feared and admired alike. They adored her.

She saw glimpses of laughter under peach blossoms, of silken sleeves fluttering as young men teased and doted on her, of a broad hand resting proudly atop her head. Her father. General Liu. The Iron Wall of the Empire. In the memories, his expression softened only for her.

She, this Liu Mei had been declared the capital's number one beauty by noble wives, matchmakers, and idle gossip alike. She had walked through the palace gates like a flower blooming in the snow. She was admired, envied, celebrated.

And yet… so painfully foolish.

Despite her blessings, she had been easily deceived, blind in her affections, and soft where she should have been steel. Her greatest weakness was her heart and the one who toyed with it.

Liu Yan.

The daughter of a favored concubine. Her smile was sweet, her words gentle, and her presence like a quiet breeze but beneath that pleasant mask lurked ambition sharp as a knife. She had played the role of the dutiful younger sister, weaving herself into Liu Mei’s trust like ivy on stone. And Liu Mei… had let her. Again and again.

Then the memories sharpened.

A man stood at the center.

The third prince. Regal. Cultured. Refined. He had once handed Liu Mei a single plum blossom during the Lantern Festival two years ago,a fleeting gesture, a soft smile and that had been enough to capture her foolish heart.

Since then, she had thrown herself into pursuing him writing letters with trembling hands, preparing gifts he never acknowledged, and setting up encounters he never arrived at.

She had lost her dignity, her reason, and her pride all for a man who never looked back.

The final memory struck like ice.

A tea invitation, left unanswered.

Liu Mei had waited by the lotus pond for hours, dressed in her finest robes, her hands trembling with hope. He never came. The servants whispered. Her cheeks burned with shame. And somehow, amidst her heartbreak and humiliation, she slipped perhaps pushed, perhaps not into the cold waters of the pond.

The body she now inhabited had nearly drowned. And would have, had fate not intervened.

Her breathing grew shallow again as the wave of memories ebbed, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Her hands dropped slowly to her lap, shaking slightly.

"So that’s what this is…" she whispered.

The room was still, save for the gentle rustle of wind against paper windows and the soft creak of the wooden beams.

Her gaze drifted to the silk curtain swaying gently at her bedside, and suddenly, she remembered.

The Foolish Concubine.

The book she had finished reading only the night before.

This world, these people, this exact plot… it was all the same. Down to the heartbreak and betrayal.

She let out a small, breathy laugh. Dry. Bitter.

"So I’ve transmigrated into her? The idiotic main character who dies broken and betrayed?"

Her tone was laced with amusement, but it was cold, edged with something much darker.

It was absurd. Utterly absurd.

Liu Mei, once a woman whose judgments silenced courtrooms, now trapped in the body of a girl who had drowned chasing affection. A girl who lost herself for a plum blossom and a smile.

But she was no longer that girl.

She sat up slowly, ignoring the weakness, the ache in her chest, and the heaviness in her limbs. The fragile warmth in her body had not yet caught up to the fire in her mind.

"No," she said, her voice low and steady, lined with steel. "I won’t follow the plot."

This was her life now. And she would not waste it weeping over an indifferent prince or dancing to the tune of a scheming sister. The Liu Mei of old was dead, and a new one had taken her place.

Let Liu Yan try.

Let the third prince come.

They would never see her coming.

A cold smile tugged at her lips.

The game had changed.

Just then, a sudden dryness caught in her throat and she began to cough harsh, uncontrolled, rattling through her chest like dry leaves scraping across stone.

The sound stirred the stillness of the room.

A curtain parted in a rush, and hurried footsteps approached her bedside.

"Young Miss! You're awake thank the heavens!"

The voice was soft but urgent, filled with raw relief and trembled slightly with emotion. A young maid, no older than sixteen or seventeen, knelt beside the bed, her wide eyes brimming with tears. She wore a pale lavender robe, her hair pinned simply with a jade ornament, her hands fluttering nervously as if afraid even her touch might break the girl before her.

Liu Mei blinked at her, a strange sense of familiarity rising unbidden.

Shui Meng.

The name surfaced naturally, anchored in the original host’s memories. Her personal maid. Loyal, gentle, and always fluttering about like a mother hen, despite her youth.

"Shui Meng…" Liu Mei murmured, her voice still hoarse.

The maid choked on a sob of joy, nodding furiously.

"Yes, yes! It's me, Miss! You scared us all so much when you fell into the pond, we thought " her voice cracked, and she bit her lip, reaching to steady her mistress’s hand as if afraid she might disappear again.

Liu Mei looked down at their clasped hands. Shui Meng's were trembling slightly, but careful. As if she were handling the most delicate piece of porcelain, one wrong move away from shattering.

"I’m alright now," Liu Mei said softly, her voice low but firm, her gaze steady.

Shui Meng blinked, surprised by the calm strength in her mistress’s eyes. It was subtle, but undeniable something had changed.

Liu Mei offered a faint smile.

The girl in this bed might be the same in body…

But inside?

She was someone else entirely.