The Silent Flame A Princess Reborn for Revenge

Chapter 2 The Father’s Murderer

On the broad lotus leaf, the morning dew—still sparkling like tiny diamonds at dawn—had already vanished beneath the merciless blaze of the sun. A relentless, withered wind swept across the palace grounds, but it carried no relief; the oppressive heat clung stubbornly to the air, wrapping itself around everything like a suffocating shroud.

Inside Ouyang Fei’s chest, a tempest raged. Her heart pounded fiercely, the swelling dread suffocating and thick as the heavy summer air. Fear—raw and unyielding—seized her like a vice, whispering the terrible truth she dared not speak: this was no ordinary illness, no simple misfortune. Something far darker was unraveling.

“Fei Fei, if anything should befall your eldest sister...” Ouyang Cui’s voice trembled, faltering under the weight of agony. She struggled for breath, her chest heaving with desperate gasps. “You must remember... no matter what happens... you must protect the Ouyang family...” Her words choked off, swallowed by a painful cough.

The faintest hope flickered in Ouyang Fei’s young heart, only to be snuffed out by the grim reality before her. She felt the room spin, the walls close in, and tears sting her eyes—yet she forced herself to stay still, to witness what fate had scripted for them.

Suddenly, the urgent footsteps of Lin Xi, the loyal palace maid, shattered the silence. Kneeling one moment, then rising swiftly, Lin Xi burst through the halls towards the Emperor’s study.

“Your Majesty,” she pleaded breathlessly to Chief Supervisor Huang Changzheng, “the Noble Consort is gravely ill. She begs to see His Majesty, for one last time.”

Within moments, the imperial yellow robe appeared at Duanyang Palace—the very chamber where Ouyang Cui lay weakened.

At the proclamation of “The Emperor has arrived,” Ouyang Fei and the princess instinctively hid behind a delicately carved screen, their breaths held tight in their chests.

The towering figure of the Emperor approached the bedside. Ouyang Fei could not see his face clearly—only the imposing silhouette of a man whose very presence sent chills coursing through her veins.

He stood silently, gazing down at the fragile woman whose life hung by a thread.

Ouyang Cui’s face was pale as the moon, drained of all warmth. Her breaths were faint and shallow—only exhaling, struggling to draw air in. Yet even in this frailty, her eyes blazed with a fierce, unyielding hatred.

“I am innocent,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but resolute. “That matter—was never of my doing. Nor was my family involved. Faithless one... why will you not believe me?”

Lin Xi trembled, falling to her knees as she implored the Emperor’s mercy, “Your Majesty, please calm your wrath. The Noble Consort is ill and confused. She did not mean to offend. We all beg your forgiveness.”

Ouyang Fei’s heart lurched as the Emperor’s anger only deepened. With a violent kick, he struck Lin Xi, then spat bitter words at Ouyang Cui, “If you hate me so, why summon me here? Do you seek my pity?”

The cruel echo of his voice reverberated through Ouyang Fei’s mind. A searing hatred was born that day—she vowed to remember this moment forever.

Ouyang Fei’s breath caught in her throat, nearly crying out, but the princess clamped her hand over her mouth to silence her.

Ouyang Cui’s glare sharpened as she fixed her gaze on Lin Xi. Blood stained the corner of Lin Xi’s trembling lips, yet she hurriedly explained, “Your Highness, fearing for the Noble Consort’s life, I took it upon myself to summon His Majesty. Please forgive my insubordination.”

No sooner had the words left her lips than Ouyang Cui’s breathing grew shallow and ragged.

The Emperor’s worry flared. He seized a court physician, pushing him forward to take her pulse.

A tense silence fell.

Then, the physician knelt, voice heavy with sorrow: “Your Majesty... the Noble Consort has passed.”

A blow heavier than any sword struck the Emperor. He sank weakly beside the bed, the weight of loss and fury pressing down like a mountain.

After a long pause—time measured only by the cold passage of a teacup—he lifted his head, voice grim as steel. “Announce my decree: Noble Consort Cui was virtuous and dignified in life. She shall be honored posthumously as Ouyang Xian Guifei.”

Ouyang Fei’s world tipped into darkness. The last thing she saw was that towering back—the shadow that would haunt her nightmares and fuel her life’s burning hatred.

Ouyang Wen remembered too. She was just twelve then. Their family ruled a principality in Dali, a royal house of tribal kings. The two sisters were princesses in every sense.

But everything was torn apart by that cruel shadow in yellow.

Their home was razed. Their kingdom fell.

She remembered nothing after that—only being taken far away, rescued by a man also surnamed Ouyang. His face was kind yet stern; he claimed to be a close friend of her father.

From that day forward, her name was no longer Yaya, no longer the pampered princess Ouyang Fei.

She became Ouyang Rongrong.

A daughter bound by blood and vengeance, carrying the weight of a family’s ruin.

A girl whose heart was forged in fire, destined to seek justice for the fallen.