I Ruined the Long Ao Tian Script

The Mercy of Fate

The green brick seemed to strike empty air, yet the sound of shattering glass echoed.

Xu Shulou touched her chest—the wound was gone. She had returned to the state she was in when she first entered the painting. Dazed, she sat up from the ground. "That's it? I expected something far more formidable..."

"Don’t get cocky. This is only the first trial."

"..."

———

When Xu Shulou awoke again, a delicate young maid lifted the sunshade curtain from her eyes. "Your Highness, how did you fall asleep under the tree again?"

"Jing'er? Is that you?" Xu Shulou grasped her hand. "You..."

Have ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍you been well? Did you survive the palace coup? I searched for you afterward, but the world is vast. Where did you wander? And where, in the end, were you laid to rest?

But before the words could leave her lips, she realized—this was not reality.

The lively, smiling girl before her waited expectantly. "Your Highness?"

Xu Shulou forced a smile. "It's nothing. Just don’t go tattling to Mother."

She looked around. The garden was awash in spring—sunlight dappled the willows, and a small bridge arched over a stream lined with apricot blossoms. This was a corner of the imperial gardens as she remembered it.

Her pet rabbit nuzzled against her knee, and she scooped it up, rubbing its fur before planting a kiss on its ear. Overwhelmed by the affection, the rabbit hopped away to nibble on grass.

Xu Shulou examined her hands—soft as tender shoots, skin like congealed cream, so delicate that the slightest bump would leave a red mark. These were not the hands of someone who had wielded a sword. These were the slender, jade-like hands of Princess Fangyi of the Xu imperial family, raised in the lap of luxury.

At this point in her life, she hadn’t even held an embroidery needle, let alone a blade.

She stood frozen, almost afraid to move, as if the slightest step would make everything vanish.

"Your Highness, you make it sound like I’m always running to tattle," Jing'er teased. "Oh! The top scholar is here to see you. Shall we let him in?"

"You little imp." Xu Shulou pretended to chase her, and Jing'er danced away, laughing. "Let him in."

In this dynasty, the rules separating men and women weren’t overly strict. Engaged couples could meet without too much fuss, though attendants were required to linger at a distance.

The top scholar entered the garden and bowed before smiling at her. "How fares Your Highness’s apricot blossom poem?"

Xu Shulou stuck out her tongue. "I’m terrible at poetry. Faced with a tree full of blossoms, all I can think of are apricot rice cakes, apricot pastries, and apricot-glazed pork."

The scholar burst into laughter.

Xu Shulou rested her chin on her hand, studying him. "You always seem to laugh when you’re with me."

His gaze softened, and a faint blush crept into his cheeks. "Indeed. The number of times I’ve laughed in my life likely pales in comparison to the moments spent in Your Highness’s company."

"..." Xu Shulou suddenly asked, "Do you believe in reincarnation?"

He chuckled in return. "If it exists, what do you think I’d be like in my next life?"

"I imagine you’d still be a scholar," she said, wrinkling her nose. "A silly scholar!"

"Ha! That wouldn’t be so bad," he replied, plucking an apricot petal from her hair. He held it in his palm, reluctant to let it go. "I only wonder if I’d be fortunate enough to meet Your Highness again."

"Perhaps we’d cross paths just once," Xu Shulou murmured. "We’d both be investigating the demons of Wushuang City and meet on a desolate mountain at night. You’d faint when you saw me digging up a grave."

The scholar stifled another laugh. "What an odd fantasy."

"But if it really happened... would you accept it?"

Instead of dismissing her whimsy, he considered it seriously. "As long as I could see Your Highness again and continue reading the classics, there’d be nothing I couldn’t accept. Though, if I were to be greedy... I’d hope our meeting wouldn’t be just once."

Xu Shulou watched as he grew flustered, his ears turning red. A quiet sigh escaped her.

If only our paths weren’t so different.

A single encounter is already the mercy of fate.

———

Since they weren’t yet married, lingering together for too long would be improper. After sharing a cup of tea, the scholar took his leave with perfect decorum.

As his figure receded into the distance, Xu Shulou exhaled softly and turned to her maid. "Jing'er, where’s Mother?"

"Your Highness, have you forgotten? Her Majesty is hosting a banquet for noblewomen in Ronghua Hall today—and she told you not to come and cause trouble!"

Xu Shulou grinned. "I won’t disturb her. I just... want to see her."

Jing'er couldn’t refuse her. No one could refuse Princess Fangyi, the most cherished jewel of the Xu imperial family. From childhood, she had been showered with love, and even her parents yielded to her whims.

"Just Jing'er will accompany me. The others may stay." The attendants, long accustomed to the princess’s caprices, smiled and bowed in acknowledgment.

Xu Shulou tiptoed to Ronghua Hall, signaling the guards to stay silent before peeking inside. With a single glance, she found the empress seated at the head of the hall.

The most revered woman of the Xu dynasty appeared to be in her early thirties—radiant, elegant, her eyes gleaming with grace.

Xu Shulou’s mother had once been the daughter of a scholarly family, the most celebrated beauty in the capital.

For the fair and the valiant, time spares no one.

This world had never seen her grow old. In Xu Shulou’s memories, she remained forever young, forever beautiful.

Xu Shulou drank in the sight before whispering to Jing'er, "Let’s go."

Jing'er blinked. "Your Highness, you really came just to look?"

"Fangyi?" The empress had already spotted her. "You silly child, come here."

Xu Shulou took a deep breath and slipped back into the role she’d played a century ago, darting over to cling to her mother. "Mother, I missed you!"

The empress tapped her forehead and smiled at the noblewomen. "This girl is always clinging to me. Forgive the spectacle."

"What’s there to forgive?" the ladies chorused. "The bond between Her Majesty and Her Highness is a tale to warm the heart."

Xu Shulou rested her head on the empress’s shoulder. "Mother..."

"What’s the matter?" The empress studied her expression and suddenly rose. "Ladies, please excuse me for a moment. I must change my attire."

She led Xu Shulou to a quiet chamber before asking, "Shulou, what’s wrong?"

Xu Shulou shook her head. "Nothing."

"Don’t lie to your mother." The empress guided her to sit. "Who upset you?"

"Really, no one."

The empress cupped her face. "But your eyes have changed."

"Changed?" Xu Shulou faltered. "How? I didn’t even notice."

"You've changed. Your thoughts used to be so transparent, one could see right through them," the Empress gently smoothed her daughter's hair. "My little Shulou, your eyes now hold a resilience and maturity, as if you've weathered countless storms and learned to accept life's turns—a wisdom tempered by experience."

"...I had a very, very long dream."

"What happened in it? Did your father and I fail to protect you?"

Before her mother, Xu Shulou could no longer hold back. She wept, her sobs heart-wrenching yet utterly silent.

The Empress, pained by her soundless tears, embraced her tightly. "What's wrong? My dear Shulou, you used to make sure everyone knew when you were upset, so they'd comfort you. When did you learn to cry like this—without a sound?"

When had it been? Perhaps during her exile from the palace, when she finally understood that no matter how loudly she cried, no one would come to console her again.

Later, she became a disciple of the Dustless Island, the senior sister of Moonlit Peak, the Xu Shulou whose folding fan vexed countless cultivators—she no longer needed anyone's comfort.

Yet hearing those words, "Did your father and I fail to protect you?", the tears fell unbidden.

Xu Shulou gazed greedily at her mother. "Mother, I've failed you both. I couldn’t even avenge you."

"Avenge us?" The Empress tenderly wiped her tears. "If anything were to happen to your father and me, our only wish would be for you to live well—not to seek revenge."

Xu Shulou wept harder.

Deep down, she knew. Of course she understood...

The Empress stayed silent, letting her cry until the sobs subsided, then patted her back gently. "Shulou, our greatest hope is for you to live happily."

Xu Shulou dried her tears and nodded solemnly. "I understand. I will."

"..."

Suddenly, the scene froze. A voice echoed from the void: "I can let you stay here forever."

"Don’t disturb me. Go away."

"..." The voice sounded irritated. "Ungrateful. Then suffer."

In an instant, the warmth shattered into bloodshed—armies besieged the capital, flames devouring the city walls.

Xu Shulou sighed. "I’ve seen this war too many times in the Heart-Demon Mirror."

"What Heart-Demon Mirror? I’m far superior to that trinket..."

Ignoring the muttering, she stared at the distant palace. She didn’t turn away, didn’t close her eyes, didn’t flinch. When it ended, she knelt and kowtowed three times toward the throne hall.

The voice returned: "You’ve passed the second trial. I can grant you one favor."

Calm now, Xu Shulou asked, "What favor?"

"I can erase the memory of your kingdom’s fall, leaving only the happiest, most cherished moments."

She blinked in confusion. "But I never said I wanted to forget."

The voice held surprise. "You don’t wish to forget?"

"All of it," Xu Shulou gazed at the towering palace, "every memory, every past moment—good or bad—has shaped who I am today."

"..."

She shook her head firmly. "So no, I don’t want to forget."

"Fine," the voice grumbled reluctantly. "Now you’ve truly passed the second trial. Had you chosen to forget, you’d have stayed here with me forever."

"...You tricked me?" Xu Shulou pulled out a red brick from nowhere.

"?"