The next morning, Ming Yu and I laid it all out—everything we'd learned about the Goddess of Water, the risks, the powers I couldn't yet control, and the general "might accidentally start a war" situation I was apparently now the centerpiece of.
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian listened in silence, their expressions growing more serious with each passing word.
"So you're telling me…" Wei Wuxian began slowly, eyes narrowing. "That Mei Lin might actually be the reincarnation of the Goddess of Water?"
"It seems so," Ming Yu confirmed, calm as ever.
Wei Wuxian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "This is bad. Like, empire-shaking bad. If this gets out, the court will lose their minds. We could be dealing with a full-blown power struggle."
He turned to Lan Wangji, then back to me. "We need to get officially married. Fast. If we don't, the main palace might force me to hand you over to my father. As his Consort. For political leverage."
My heart stopped. I blinked.
"I'm sorry—what now?"
Wei Wuxian winced. "It's just politics. If my father thinks you're powerful, he'll want that power close to him. Which means—"
"I'd rather be trampled by wild horses," I cut in, panic rising. "I do not want to marry your father."
Lan Wangji's gaze softened—gentle, reassuring. "Then we move up the plan," he said. "Tomorrow."
I looked between them, baffled. "What plan?"
Wei Wuxian grinned. And not the nice, friendly kind. The mischievous, "I'm about to cause chaos and enjoy every second of it" kind.
"We're staging a fake fight between Lan Zhan and me," he said. "Public. Dramatic. And we'll let the rumor about him being in love with you go wild."
I stared. "Why would you ever do that?"
"To give me an excuse," he said simply, "to demote Lan Wangji for 'falling in love' with my future Consort. He loses the fight—tragically, of course—and as punishment, I'll strip him of the current rank and assign him as your personal guard."
I blinked. "I'm sorry, that's the plan? Fake scandal, staged humiliation, public demotion?"
Ming Yu finally spoke, his tone bone-dry. "So he stays close to Mei Lin… but cannot pursue her."
Wei Wuxian nodded, utterly pleased with himself. "Exactly. A personal guard of a Consort cannot get married. Everyone will believe Lan Zhan has been disgraced, and no one will suspect his loyalty—or his true role."
"And it gets him out of marrying Wang Yufei," Ming Yu added, gaze flicking toward Lan Wangji with a knowing look.
I turned to Wei Wuxian. "So, let me get this straight. This isn't just about protecting me. This is also your grand master plan to cancel Lan Wangji's engagement?"
Wei Wuxian pressed a hand to his chest, all mock innocence. "What? Me? Nooo, of course not. I'm just worried about your safety."
His grin said otherwise.
I squinted. "You're a terrible liar."
He winked.
I sighed. "And how, exactly, does this help me not get yeeted off to the main palace like some magical pawn?"
"It buys us time," Wei Wuxian replied. "Once Lan Zhan's 'disgraced,' you'll be off the main palace's radar. No one tries to steal a Consort with a ruined love triangle and a bodyguard scandal. Meanwhile, we'll prepare for your actual marriage ceremony."
I stared at him. Then at Lan Wangji, who, miraculously, didn't look nearly as horrified as I was.
"This is insane," I muttered.
"It's risky," Ming Yu admitted. "But it might just work."
Of course it might. Because apparently my life was now a full-blown palace drama with secret identities, fake betrayals, and political marriage speed-runs.
And somehow… this was the good option.
Wei Wuxian wasted no time executing his little theatre production. Within hours, whispers bloomed across the palace like weeds after rain—Lan Wangji is in love with the future Consort.She might feel the same.Scandal.Dishonor.Juicy.
Naturally, it didn't take long for the rumors to crawl their way to Minister Wang—the man most allergic to chaos. Predictably, he lost his mind. By sunset, a formal meeting had been called.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, I was summoned to the main palace hall.
Let me tell you—this place? Straight out of a high-budget historical drama. It was bigger than the one in the Prince's palace. The towering pillars were carved with dragons and phoenixes, their gold-painted scales catching the sunlight that poured through the stained-glass windows. The ceiling arched high above us like the sky itself, painted with vivid scenes of celestial warriors and long-forgotten battles. Every step I took echoed on the gleaming marble floor, as if the very building was judging my soul.
Silk banners hung from the walls, telling stories I didn't know—but I got the feeling at least one of them ended in a tragic death.
The hall was already packed. Rows of officials in pristine robes sat rigidly like porcelain dolls, their gazes snapping to me the second I entered. I resisted the urge to shrink under their scrutiny, lifting my chin instead. Fake it till you make it, right?
At the far end of the hall, Wei Wuxian lounged on the elevated throne like he'd just been interrupted during a nap. He looked absurdly regal—silk robes, gleaming crown, bored expression and all. That was the act, of course. The carefully orchestrated royal indifference.
And right in the middle of the room stood Lan Wangji.
His posture was flawless, straight-backed and composed, but I could sense the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. His hands were clasped behind his back, his face carved in stone. He didn't glance at me—not even once.
Then came Minister Wang, practically storming to the center with all the drama of a stage villain. His face was red enough to rival the palace banners.
"Prince Wei," he barked, "this matter must be addressed at once. The rumors about Hanguang-jun and Miss Mei Lin are spreading like wildfire! This behavior is unacceptable!"
Wei Wuxian yawned like he'd just been woken up from a nap, not accused of harboring a scandal. "Minister Wang, rumors are just that—rumors. But if you insist on making a spectacle of it, let's hear what the accused have to say."
All eyes shifted to me.
Perfect.
Minister Wang turned with the grace of a vulture, his eyes narrowing like he already knew I was guilty of something—he just didn't know what. "Miss Mei Lin," he said, voice clipped, "what do you have to say about these… allegations?"
I inhaled slowly, grounding myself. Just words. Just lines. Stick to the script.
"I am honored to serve Prince Wei as his Consort," I said, keeping my voice calm and clear. "I have no feelings for Hanguang-jun."
There was a pause—just long enough for everyone to wonder if that was the end of the drama.
It wasn't.
Minister Wang pivoted to Lan Wangji, his voice biting. "And you, Hanguang-jun?"
Lan Wangji stepped forward. His face was unreadable, his posture impeccable. The room held its breath.
"My loyalty to Prince Wei and the royal family is unwavering," he said, voice steady. "However… the rumors regarding my feelings for Miss Mei Lin are true."
Whispers ignited around the hall like sparks on dry grass.
"I have developed feelings for her," he added.
Oh no. He really said it. Exactly like what we planned.
Wei Wuxian sat up a little straighter, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. He was loving this.
"So Hanguang-jun," he said slowly, voice loud enough to carry through the hall, "you're saying you're in love with Mei Lin… knowing full well I'm marrying her?"
Lan Wangji didn't flinch. He met Wei Wuxian's gaze with the calm of a man walking into a storm on purpose.
"Yes," he said firmly. "But my feelings do not interfere with my duty. My loyalty to you remains unchanged."
Silence fell—heavy, breathless. The officials were practically vibrating with judgment. And curiosity. And maybe a little bit of excitement, because court intrigue was apparently the royal version of soap operas.
I could feel every stare digging into my skin, but I didn't lower my head. This was all part of the plan. Right?
Minister Wang, visibly thrown, sputtered like someone had just upended his entire worldview. "This is highly irregular," he finally said. "How can the royal court maintain its integrity if personal… entanglements are allowed to continue unchecked?"
Wei Wuxian's expression turned razor-sharp. "Minister Wang, are you questioning Hanguang-jun's loyalty? A man who has served this family with honor for years? Who has openly declared his feelings yet remains committed to duty?"
Minister Wang opened his mouth to argue—then thought better of it. He bowed his head just slightly, lips pressed into a tight line.
Wei Wuxian turned his attention back to me. "Mei Lin," he said, voice gentler now. "You've been put in an impossible position. But no one here has ever questioned your loyalty to me. Do you have anything more you'd like to say?"
I met his gaze, then turned to the room of watching eyes. "I am honored by Hanguang-jun's feelings," I said. "But my loyalty is with Prince Wei. The rumors are just that—rumors. I will serve him with honor, as I always have."
And just like that, Minister Wang found his voice again—because of course he did.
"There must be a consequence for this breach of decorum," he declared, straightening. "This cannot be allowed to go unanswered."
Wei Wuxian leaned forward, eyes glittering like he'd been waiting for this cue. "Very well, Minister Wang," he said smoothly. "Then let's settle this properly—with a duel."
Gasps echoed through the chamber like thunderclaps.
"If Hanguang-jun wins," he continued, "he may act as he sees fit. But if I win…" He let the silence stretch for dramatic effect. "He will be stripped of his title and assigned to serve as Mei Lin's personal guard."
The room rippled with whispers and horrified glances.
So dramatic as planned.
Minister Wang, looking both scandalized and grimmed by the escalation, gave a tight nod. "So be it. A duel it is."
Wei Wuxian smiled, but his eyes were dead serious. "Hanguang-jun, do you accept?"
Lan Wangji didn't hesitate. "I accept."
And just like that, the room was dismissed, leaving behind a buzzing trail of speculation and dread. The duel would decide not only Lan Wangji's fate—but the balance of power in the palace.