The Reborn Empress

The Silver Blade

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*Episode 15:

The palace was unusually quiet that night.

Too quiet.

Liyue sat in her study, reading through documents that linked several nobles to Zhaohan’s cover-ups. She marked each name with red ink—traitors to justice, one by one.

Then she felt it—a shift in the air. A breeze, too deliberate for closed windows.

She stood slowly.

Behind her, a soft *click* echoed.

She spun, just as a silver blade sliced past her cheek.

A masked man, dressed in foreign silk, stepped into the moonlight. His eyes were icy, movements too precise to be local.

“You are efficient,” Liyue said calmly, even as her blood trickled. “But late. I’ve already torn down half their empire.”

The man didn’t speak. He lunged.

Liyue dodged, rolling behind the table—grabbing a hidden dagger from her sash. She was no soldier, but she had trained for this moment.

Blades clashed—metal against metal, silence against breath.

But the assassin was fast. Too fast.

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Then came a crash.

The window shattered—*Tang Shi* burst in, sword in hand.

“Step away from her,” he growled.

The assassin shifted stance—recognizing the threat.

They fought like shadows—silent, brutal, a blur of motion. Tang Shi was stronger, but the assassin was relentless. Blood splattered across the floor as they clashed again and again.

Finally, with a swift feint and a thrust, *Tang Shi’s blade pierced the assassin’s shoulder*, sending him crashing against the wall.

The man fled—leaping from the window before Tang Shi could finish him off.

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Liyue sat on the floor, breathing heavily. Her hands were shaking, but her eyes were hard.

“They’re that desperate,” she said quietly. “They sent a ghost.”

Tang Shi knelt beside her, wiping the blood from her cheek. “And they failed.”

She looked into his eyes. “Not for long. I need to strike now—before they try again.”

He nodded. “Then we expose Zhaohan… fully. Publicly.”

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The next morning, *Liyue stood at the Temple Square*, where the public gathered weekly.

She held up the scroll—the original copy of Zhaohan’s forged signature, and the testimonies from those who’d suffered under him.

Her voice rang out:

*“Your Crown Prince is a liar. A thief of titles. A murderer of legacies.”*

Gasps erupted.

Soldiers moved forward—then froze as *Tang Shi stepped beside her*, sword drawn.

“You’ll strike her down?” he challenged. “Then you strike me too.”

The crowd turned into a storm—chants of “Justice for Meiling!” rising like thunder.

Inside the palace, the Emperor watched from his balcony.

He whispered, “The empire is changing… and I may not control it much longer.”

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