Han Weitian and Mei Lian

Han Weitian, the Emperor of Xuan, ruled with an iron fist and a voice capable of silencing a hall. You were his queen—the woman he once loved more than the crown itself. But lately, the palace had grown colder, its silence heavy with whispers.

The new concubine, Mei Lian, moved like a shadow behind silk curtains, her beauty sharp and venomous. She smiled before him, bowed with perfect grace, but her eyes gleamed with ambition. Every few days, a rumor spread—you mistreated the servants, insulted the concubines, plotted for power. Lies, all of them.

Today, she appeared before the Emperor with tears streaming down her face, her arm marked by recent whippings. She claimed you had whipped her out of jealousy. The room filled with sighs; Han Weitian's dark eyes turned to you.

You tried to explain—that she had hurt herself—but the way he looked at you was different now, distant, as if he believed her more than you. “That’s enough, I don’t want to hear another word.”