[Empresses in the Palace fanfiction | Rebirth | Awakening | Yuri]
Shen Meizhuang had died once.
She died in a pool of cold blood, with Wen Shichu's words echoing in her ears: "My heart belongs only to Huanhuan."
When she opened her eyes and returned to the year of the selection, she didn't look toward the gentle, refined imperial physician. Instead, she went to the corner, where a frail young woman sat, so nervous that her palms were sweating.
"Your name is An Lingrong?" She offered her a handkerchief. "From now on, I'll teach you."
Others laughed at her foolishness: instead of befriending Zhen Huan, she had chosen a piece of worthless wood that nobody wanted.
But Shen Meizhuang knew that in her previous life, this piece of wood had been forced to burn to ash.
This time, she would warm it with her own hands and carve it into something fine.
When Consort Hua made things difficult for An Lingrong, Shen Meizhuang stood in front of her. When the Empress laid a trap, she took her hand and led her around it.
Late one night, when they were alone, An Lingrong asked with red-rimmed eyes, "Sister Meizhuang, why are you so good to me?"
Shen Meizhuang gazed out the window at an old plum tree standing alongside another and said softly, "Because in my previous life, I watched you fall into a pit of fire with my own eyes, yet cared only about keeping my own hands clean. This time, I'll jump in with you."
"Either we'll burn to ashes together, or..."
She turned to her, her eyes alight.
"We'll burn the rules of the Forbidden City to the ground."
Years later, when An Lingrong stood before her dressed in a phoenix robe, Shen Meizhuang finally understood that a person cherished and protected in the palm of someone's hand could grow into someone so utterly fearless.
They said the women of the palace could only live like vines, climbing by winding around trees.
But this time...
Their roots entwined, their branches leaned against each other. When storms came, they would bear them together.
