The journey to the South stretched ahead like a ribbon of promise and uncertainty. Though the road was long, a quiet anticipation thrummed through our group. We were to travel for a day before reaching Xingyuan City, a key stop nestled on the border between Luyang and Daqi. The scenery unfurled around us in waves—rolling hills softened by morning mist, dense groves of ancient trees, and glistening rivers that shimmered like strands of silver under the sunlight.
Our carriage was one of five in the royal procession, flanked by soldiers and attendants. Inside, it was oddly cozy—Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Ming Yu, Xiaohua, and I sharing a space that felt like a world of its own.
The carriage rocked gently as it rumbled down the worn mountain road, the steady rhythm of hooves and wheels underscored by the occasional rattle of a loose bolt or a distant bird cry. Inside, the space was strangely cozy. The windows were flung open to let in the crisp morning breeze, sunlight filtering through in broken patches that danced across our laps and the makeshift table Xiaohua had balanced between our knees.
A perfect setting for chaos.
Poker chaos.
I never imagined I'd one day be playing poker with two of the most powerful cultivators in the kingdom, a maid who knew every palace secret, and the semi-prince of Daqi whose cheekbones should be declared a weapon of mass distraction.
The game had started light—Xiaohua giggling, Wei Wuxian grinning like he'd just invented mischief, me trying to remember if I'd actually finished writing all the numbers on the card deck. But soon, it shifted. The air tightened. Strategies formed in silence. Every movement, every flicker of an eyelid, became suspect.
Lan Wangji, of course, was a menace.
The man had no tell. None. His face was a serene pond—expressionless, unreadable, terrifying. His gaze didn't waver once, and somehow he kept winning without so much as blinking. Like he could see right through us—our cards, our thoughts, our childhood trauma. I couldn't tell if he was bluffing or if the divine just handed him four aces every round out of respect.
Even Wei Wuxian, who practically lived off theatrics and gut instinct, was visibly sweating. Xiaohua tried to hold her own, but the moment Lan Wangji arched a brow, she broke into a nervous giggle and threw her cards like they were on fire. She was having fun, though, and that made me happy.
But Ming Yu.
Ming Yu was the real problem.
I tried, I really tried to read him. I stared at his eyes, tried to decode the faint curves of his mouth, searched for a twitch, a blink, a divine hint. But every time I looked at him—his sculpted cheekbones, that calm smile with just a flicker of mischief in it—my brain short-circuited.
Gone. All logic, evaporated.
There was one round where I actually had a good hand. Like, scary good. I was about to raise when he looked at me—just a small tilt of his head, dark lashes lowered slightly, his gaze steady and calculating like he was reading my soul instead of my posture. My heart tripped. My fingers betrayed me. I folded so fast I forgot I was supposed to bluff.
It was unfair. He didn't even try to flirt. He just existed and my emotional stability crumbled like a sandcastle in a monsoon.
Worse still, I knew he was reading me. Not just my cards, but me. The way his eyes lingered a second too long on my face before glancing at the table again. Like he was seeing every internal scream I was trying to suppress.
I lost that round. And the next. And the one after that.
It wasn't about the cards anymore. It was about survival.
Meanwhile, Lan Wangji just kept winning. Calm. Silent. Stoic. Collecting tokens like he didn't care and yet somehow dominating every game with monk-like precision.
If I hadn't been so focused on keeping my heart from jumping out of my chest every time Ming Yu brushed his sleeve against mine, I might have plotted revenge.
After four hours of travel, the procession slowed, and Wei Wuxian poked his head out. "Let's rest here," he declared, already halfway out the door.
The carriage came to a halt beside a breathtaking waterfall, its rush of water tumbling down moss-covered rock into a clear, sparkling pool. Mist hung in the air like a delicate veil, and the sunlight filtering through the trees painted the forest in shifting golds and greens.
"This is perfect," Wei Wuxian said, stretching his arms with a groan and a grin. "Time to breathe a little."
Lan Wangji stepped out beside him, his expression serene as ever, but I could tell—he liked this place too. Something about the silence, the purity of it, seemed to match his soul.
Ming Yu followed, his eyes sweeping the landscape with appreciation. "Nature's beauty never fails," he murmured, his voice low and warm, sending an uninvited flutter through my chest.
I stepped out last, the crisp forest air hitting my face like a balm. The waterfall roared gently in the background, its music calming and constant. Soldiers fanned out quickly, setting up a temporary perimeter. Others knelt by the stream, filling water gourds and washing their faces in the cool water.
For the first time in days, the air didn't feel so heavy.
And for the first time in a long while... I almost let myself feel at peace.
As we rested by the waterfall, lulled by the steady rhythm of rushing water and rustling leaves, Wei Wuxian turned to me with a rare gentleness in his voice. "How are you holding up, Mei Lin?"
I smiled, letting the peaceful surroundings lift the lingering weight on my shoulders. "Honestly? It's hard not to feel alive out here. It's beautiful."
After a while, I rose and motioned to Xiaohua. "I'm going to freshen up. Come with me?"
We wandered to the far side of the waterfall, where the spray was light and the stones were slick but manageable. I knelt beside the stream, letting the cold water wash over my hands, its touch both bracing and calming.
That's when I saw them—tucked just above eye level, on a small ledge behind a mossy rock—bright, vivid wildflowers in full bloom.
"Xiaohua, look! I want to get some," I said, eyes lighting up.
She squinted toward them, frowning. "Miss Mei Lin… that's steep. Please don't."
"It's fine," I said, brushing off her concern with a grin. "It's not far. I'll be careful."
I climbed carefully, the rock damp beneath my feet. The flowers swayed gently in the breeze, almost teasing me. When I finally reached them, I plucked a small bundle and turned with a triumphant smile. "Got them!"
Xiaohua exhaled in relief. "Okay, now please come down—slowly."
But the moment I shifted my weight to descend, my foot slipped.
Everything tilted. My heart lurched. Xiaohua screamed my name.
And then—
I didn't fall.
Instead of crashing into the rocks below, I felt something lift me. The water... it moved. It rose and caught me in mid-air, curling around me like a soft, shimmering veil. I hovered there, suspended in a glowing arc of liquid light.
Xiaohua stood frozen below, eyes wide, her mouth parted in stunned silence.
Within moments, Ming Yu, Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji appeared, no doubt having heard Xiaohua's scream. They came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the clearing—three figures frozen in place, their eyes wide with disbelief as they took in the sight of me hovering mid-air, cradled in a glowing arc of water.
And then, just as suddenly, the water released me.
I dropped like a stone into the pool below, the cold shock of it stealing the breath from my lungs.
"Mei Lin!" Ming Yu shouted, his voice slicing through the air as he dove in after me.
I surfaced a second later, sputtering and soaked, my hair plastered to my face. Ming Yu reached me in a flash, steadying me as I struggled to find footing on the slick rocks beneath.
Xiaohua rushed over with a large cloth, her hands trembling as she wrapped it around me. "Miss Mei Lin, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," I managed, trying to sound more composed than I felt.
Wei Wuxian knelt beside the pool, his expression laced with concern. "What happened? Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm okay, I am sorry" I said again, squeezing the drenched bouquet of flowers in my fist. "I just wanted some stupid flowers."
My voice trailed off as the absurdity of it sank in. I looked like a half-drowned cat trying to salvage her dignity.
Ming Yu turned to Xiaohua, his tone gentle. "Let's get her dry and changed."
"Thank you," I whispered, avoiding everyone's eyes as Xiaohua guided me toward the tent, my cheeks flaming.
As I disappeared from view, I caught a fragment of conversation behind me.
"Did you see…?" Wei Wuxian began, his voice hushed with awe.
"I did," Lan Wangji replied, his tone low and thoughtful.
Later, I stepped out of the tent in clean clothes, my hair hastily pinned back, my skin still flushed with mortification. I walked toward them slowly, clutching the moment like a splinter under my skin—painfully unforgettable.
"Sorry about the scene," I said, trying to sound composed, though my voice was still shaky. "And thank you, Ming Yu, for jumping in after me. Sorry I got your clothes soaked."
Ming Yu offered a warm smile, brushing off the apology. "It's alright. I'm just relieved you weren't hurt."
Wei Wuxian tilted his head, his brow furrowing with curiosity. "But Mei Lin… how did you do that?"
I blinked. "Do what? slipped and fell?"
He shook his head slowly. "No, I'm talking about how the water lifted you. You were suspended mid-air, as if the waterfall caught you."
My breath hitched. "Wait—you mean none of you did that? I assumed… I don't know…that one of you caught me with a spell or something."
Wei Wuxian shook his head. "None of us used any cultivation techniques like that."
Ming Yu looked at me, his expression shifting—no longer casual, but thoughtful, calculating. He didn't say a word, but something flickered in his eyes. Recognition? Worry?
I frowned, still trying to wrap my head around it. "I swear, I didn't do anything."
Wei Wuxian handed me a small cup filled with water. "Try this. See if you can move it."
I stared at him like he'd grown an extra head. "Move it? With what? Wishful thinking?"
Lan Wangji's voice was calm but serious. "Concentrate. Feel the energy in the water. Let your body respond."
Are you fricking kidding me? I thought. What was I supposed to do—stare it into submission?
Still, I sighed and gave it a try. I held the cup in both hands, narrowing my eyes at the water like I was trying to intimidate it. I tried to breathe, focus, feel… something.
Nothing happened. Not even a ripple.
After a few long, awkward minutes, I sighed and set the cup down. "Well, I looked ridiculous, and the water didn't move. So…"
The three of them exchanged glances, clearly unsettled but not saying it aloud.
Finally, Ming Yu broke the silence. "We should get going. The sun's starting to dip—best not to travel in the dark."
At that, we resumed our journey, the day's strange events weighing heavily on my mind.
We resumed our journey, though the earlier events lingered in my mind like mist that refused to lift. The idea that I might have somehow controlled water—it was absurd… wasn't it?
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, we reached a modest inn in a small city and decided to spend the night there. After dinner, I returned to my room, grateful for the quiet. I had just begun to relax when a soft knock tapped at the door.
I opened it to find Ming Yu standing there, holding a small tray with a steaming cup.
"This is a medicinal drink to keep you from catching cold," he said. "You were soaked earlier—and we've been traveling all day."
My chest warmed, and my cheeks flushed. "Thank you," I said softly, touched by the gesture. "That's very thoughtful."
He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Would it be alright if I came in for a few minutes?"
I nodded and stepped aside, letting him in.
We sat near the low table by the window, the night air drifting in through the slight opening in the wooden screen. Ming Yu's presence was calming, his energy quieter than usual.
"How has the trip been for you so far?" he asked, offering me the cup. "Aside from the incident with the waterfall, of course."
I let out a small laugh, accepting the drink. "Refreshing, for the most part. Though yes, I could've done without the public dive."
He grinned, eyes alight with amusement. "Jumping into the pool really made the day memorable."
I shot him a glare, but it softened as he quickly added, "I'm just teasing. You handled it better than most would."
I sipped the drink and smiled. "The scenery has helped. It's peaceful out here. A nice change from... well, the palace and everything else."
He looked at me with genuine concern. "Do you want to share? I'm here to listen."
Taking a deep breath, I told him everything—how I'd ended up here, the struggle of adjusting to palace life, and most recently, the whirlwind proposal from Wei Wuxian to become his Consort. A title that sounded like a solution but felt like a trap.
Ming Yu's expression shifted, his easy warmth replaced with something more serious. "That's just a fake marriage to shield his real love, isn't it?"
I blinked in disbelief. "Wait… how do you know that?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you… know about them?"
He nodded, calm and unbothered, his voice steady. "I've known for a long time."
My breath caught. "And you're… fine with it?"
"They're like brothers to me. There's nothing to 'be fine' with. They didn't wake up one day and decide to fall in love—it just happened, slowly, inevitably. I grew up with them. Why wouldn't I understand? As for Wei Wuxian's proposal… I get where he's coming from. If it's the only way to keep you safe, it might not be the worst path."
I bit my lip, a dull ache blooming in my chest. I shouldn't have cared what Ming Yu thought. But I did. And now, hearing him speak so reasonably, so supportively, I couldn't help the tiny pang of disappointment curling in my stomach.
"I get it," I said quietly, trying—and probably failing—to sound unaffected.
He studied me for a moment, then asked, "Is there someone you want to be with?"
His question caught me off guard. I blinked. "What? No—I mean, maybe not right now. But if I agree to this… this arrangement, I'm locking myself into something that would make any future relationship impossible. That doesn't seem fair. Not to him, not to me."
Ming Yu's gaze was quiet, but intense. "If it were me," he said softly, "the world could burn, and I wouldn't care. To love and be loved—that's everything. Nothing else matters. Not rank. Not politics. Not fear. Just the person."
His words hit me like a stone tossed into still water—sudden, stirring, and impossible to ignore. I sat there, stunned, a little flustered. My cheeks burned with a heat I couldn't blame on the tea. Was it hope fluttering in my chest? Interest? Or just my overactive, drama-loving brain?
"Really?" I asked, barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't mind?"
Ming Yu shook his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Not at all. Love is about being with the person who makes you happy—titles, circumstances, all that comes second."
My heart did an awkward little leap. "That's... really kind of you to say."
He leaned in just slightly, his dark eyes steady on mine. "It's not kindness. It's the truth. You deserve someone who sees you—who values everything you are, no matter where or when you came from."
I swallowed, my thoughts a spinning mess of ifs and maybes and what-ifs. Was he saying this for me? Was this a hint? A confession? Or just philosophical rambling from someone too smooth for his own good?
Still, I found myself nodding, voice soft. "Thank you, Ming Yu. That means more than you know."
Then—like fate itself mocking me—he reached out and patted me on the head. Gently. Affectionately. Like I was a well-behaved puppy or his favorite kid sister.
Pat on the head?
Seriously?
What is this? The Royal Friend Zone?
I forced a smile and tried not to groan out loud. So much for the romantic spark. Damn it.
I think I'm falling for him.
Nope. Nope. Abort mission.
Quick—find a distraction, Mei Lin. Change the topic. Save your pride.
"So," I blurted, a little too brightly, "what have you been up to since we last saw each other in the library?"
Ming Yu leaned back, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, knowing smile. "I've been looking for someone special."
My heart did that awkward sinking thing it had a habit of doing lately. "Did you… find that person?" I asked, trying (and failing) to sound casual.
He nodded slowly. "I think I did."
Well. There it was. The final arrow through my already emotionally overcooked brain. Of course he found someone. Of course it wasn't me.
He must've seen something shift in my face because his smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown. Then, quietly, he said, "There's something I need to tell you—but first, something I need to know."
He asked how I ended up here.
So I told him—about waking up in the cave, saving Wei Wuxian, the scorpion, the palace. The whole strange, surreal saga. He didn't interrupt once. His eyes stayed on mine, focused, patient. Listening like every word mattered.
When I finally finished, he took a slow breath and leaned in slightly. His voice dropped to a serious, low whisper. "What I'm about to tell you… you can't repeat to anyone. Not even Wei Ying or Lan Zhan. Can I trust you with that?"
I nodded without hesitation. "Yes. You can trust me."
His gaze searched mine for a beat longer, then he said, "What most people already know is that some high-level cultivators can manipulate the elements—fire, wind, earth."
My eyebrows rose. "Really?"
He nodded. "Lan Zhan can manipulate fire. Jian Yi, too—his signature technique is the Fire Phoenix."
"Oh! I saw that! When he fought Wei Ying. And Lan Zhan can summon fireballs!"
Ming Yu's expression darkened slightly, but not with fear—more like curiosity, deepened. "There are even a few cultivators who can stir the ground, control sandstorms. But... no one has ever been able to control water."
I blinked. "No one?"
"No one," he repeated. "At least… not until now."
He glanced around the room, eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of eavesdroppers. When he was sure we were alone, he leaned in and lowered his voice. "In my sect—the Xuanji Sect—there is an ancient prophecy. It speaks of someone born once every thousand years. A woman who can manipulate water. A rebirth of the Goddess of Water."
I blinked. "A... Goddess of Water?"
He nodded, his expression unreadable but heavy with meaning. "Yes. The prophecy has been passed down for generations. She's said to possess unimaginable power—power tied directly to the natural world. Where others wield destruction, she brings life. Control of water isn't just for combat—it's survival, growth, balance."
I tried to wrap my head around it. "But... It's just water. You fight with it? You move it around? That's considered... divine?"
He shook his head. "No, Mei Lin. Water is life. In the wrong hands, yes—it can flood cities. Drown empires. But in the right hands... it can end drought. Revive land. Feed nations. The Goddess of Water was said to decide the fate of kingdoms—not with a sword, but with a stream."
I blinked, guilt creeping in. "Wow. I didn't even think about that. I feel kind of dumb now."
His tone softened. "You're not dumb. You're just... new to this world."
He paused, then continued, "Months ago, my master felt a shift—an energy signature he believed to be hers. He sent me to search for a baby girl born around that time. He thought she'd be the reincarnation. I've been searching ever since... but it turns out I may have been looking in the wrong place."
I stared at him. "You've been trying to find her this whole time?"
"Yes," he said, his gaze steady. "But after what happened at the waterfall... I don't think I was wrong about her being here. I think I was wrong about when."
His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unblinking.
I stared back, trying to process what he was saying. Then it hit me like a thunderclap. "Wait. You think I—you think I'm the reincarnation of the Goddess of Water?"
The words came out louder than I intended, but Ming Yu didn't even flinch.
"That's insane," I rushed on, panic and disbelief mixing in my chest. "I couldn't even move a cup. You saw me. I looked like I was trying to hypnotize tea."
Ming Yu's expression softened, the weight in his gaze easing just a bit. "I'm not certain. But I don't want to rule anything out just yet."
I tried to break the tension with a weak laugh. "Well, if I could actually control the water, I probably wouldn't have belly-flopped into the pool in front of everyone today."
He chuckled, the sound warm, but his smile quickly faded as concern returned to his face. "Still... when I return to my master, I'll ask for more guidance. But for now, I want you to be cautious. If anyone suspects you might possess this kind of power, it could put you in serious danger."
My smile faltered. "Why would it be dangerous?"
"The power tied to the Goddess of Water is rare—legendary, even," he said quietly. "If people start to believe you carry that kind of ability, some might try to control you... or eliminate you before you realize your potential. There are those who would see you as a threat—or a weapon."
His words settled over me like a chill. It wasn't just fantasy anymore. This was real. Real and possibly dangerous.
Ming Yu must've seen the uncertainty in my eyes because his voice gentled. "Don't let it weigh on you too much tonight. Get some rest. We'll talk again in the morning when your mind is clearer."
I nodded slowly. "Thanks, Ming Yu."
He gave me a small, reassuring smile. "Good night, Mei Lin."
"Good night," I murmured as he stepped out and quietly shut the door behind him.
The silence that followed felt oddly loud. I sat there for a moment, staring at the door, my heart thudding with a dozen emotions I couldn't name. Confusion. Wonder. A spark of something that might've been fear—or hope.
Could I really be something more than just a lost girl from another world?
I flopped back on the bed, eyes wide in the dim light.
If I do turn out to be the reincarnated goddess of water... I swear, the universe owes me a handbook and at least one magical glow-up scene.