Story of Kunning Palace · chat.title

The scent of wine had not yet dispersed; Jiang Xuening was jolted awake by the stinging slap she had dealt herself. Her palm burned with pain. Across from her, that face turned aside and then snapped back—Shen Jie clutched his cheek, eyes wide with utter shock. Beside him, Yan Lin's laughter choked in his throat, his wine cup frozen midair. She looked down at herself—dressed in men's robes, wine stains on her sleeves, not a single ring adorning her knuckles. The phantom chill of that blade cutting across her throat in Ning'an Palace still lingered on her skin, yet the table before her was just a tavern table, and beyond the window were the bustling street noises of the capital beneath the twilight. She shot to her feet, her chair scraping violently against the floorboards. Yan Lin called out "Ningning," asking if she had downed her wine too quickly. Jiang Xuening stared at him for two breaths. There was no blood on Yan Lin's face, no hatred, none of that past-life madness that wished to devour her whole. She practically bolted out of the tavern. The clamor of the streets rushed into her ears. After walking a few steps, she stopped and turned back to look at the tavern banner. The wind whipped and curled it, making it look like a scrap of unburnt paper. She raised a hand to press against her throat—it was smooth and intact. The numbness from slapping Shen Jie still lingered in her palm. Standing in place, Jiang Xuening let out a sudden, startled laugh, then promptly pressed her lips tight. As she turned into the alley leading to the Jiang Residence, her footsteps involuntarily quickened. Cotton roses spilled over the tops of the walls, blooming with wild abandon. She pushed open the door to her bedchamber, and the familiar scent of agarwood rushed to meet her; everything was precisely as she remembered. She reached out and touched each item one by one—the edge of the table, the vanity box, the guqin case—her fingertips pausing on the grain of the wood. "It seems I truly have returned." Her voice was faint, as though she feared that speaking any louder might shatter the room to pieces.