It was for the nth time that Wei Yaling would die tonight. She'd lost count. But she knew without a doubt that she would die on her wedding night. Also, she would wake up the next day to relive the tragic event again.

Somewhere along the way, she'd given up on attempting to unravel the mystery behind the phenomena and treat it as an unexpected gift. After all, each cycle has afforded her the precious opportunity to converse with the crown prince, whom she had long admired from a distance.

A couple of times, as her repetitive days blurred together, she even grew to appreciate that whoever wanted her dead chose to use a very potent poison. This always granted her a quick, almost painless, death.

Until now.

Before she could even partake of the poisonous wine, a searing pain tore through her flesh. Her hands quivered, and the cup slipped from her grasp, spilling its contents onto the bed step. The resulting sinister hiss drew the attention of the crown prince.

Meanwhile, hers was demanded by the dagger lodged into her body and the hand that started to withdraw it rashly. Despite the increasing levels of pain caused by each millimeter of the dagger, she quickly scanned him for identifying jewelry or clothing, but he vanished before she could find any.

"Guards!" the crown prince bellowed, which reassured her that he was not as injured as she was. For her, breathing in felt like swallowing a thousand needles. And breathing out turned into coughing up blood. She wasn't sure she could whisper, let alone call for help.

The joyful red hues slowly dissipated from her field of vision as the bridal chamber now seemed engulfed in darkness. The only trace of red she saw was the deep crimson of the blood that was seeping through her once vibrant red wedding gown, marring its beautiful gold embellishments. No matter how tightly she pressed on the wound, the blood continued to flow out between her fingers.

"Guards!" the increasing panic was evident in the crown prince's voice, but no matter how much she wanted to, she was in no condition to ease his worries.

With difficulty, she reached out her hand to him, but he was no longer beside her. His absence, coupled with her lightheadedness, caused her to collapse to the floor. Her entire body begged her to succumb to death, and the snail's pace made her feel like it could be her final one. She could only hope that she was right. And that she would hear his voice one more time.

"No!"

She smiled at the sound of this agonized cry. She'd take it over not hearing him at all.

Has it always been this easy to fulfill wishes? she wondered.

"No, no, please. Hold on."

Wait. That wasn't the crown prince.

"Help is coming. I promise. Please, hold on, A'Ling."

A'Ling? No one calls me that except—this one time—could it be...

"Second Prince?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm here."

But why?

"You're going to be alright."

"Crown Prince, he—"

"He isn't here. Don't worry about him. Don't worry about anything. Just hold on, okay? Help is on the way."

Something about the tone of his voice told her that they both knew he was lying. Help would have arrived by now if it were going to come. She tried to inquire about the crown prince again, but he put a tremendous amount of pressure on her wound and she groaned instead.

"I'm sorry, A'Ling. I'm so sorry. I failed you."

She could no longer speak. All she could do was force open her eyes to look at him. She needed to see if his eyes would offer some sort of explanation. For example, will his eyes also contain the same level of concern in his voice? Would he look at her with the affection she's sensing in his tone? Does he look like he likes her?

No, it's impossible.

Nevertheless, all important questions, but her vision was too blurred to make out any details. Gradually, she managed to take in a shallow breath and began to let her eyes drift.

Before her eyelids completely drooped, a goddess revealed herself in front of her and everything in the bridal chamber seemed to have frozen in time. The second prince, the flicker of the candlelight, even her entire body felt immobile, but her mind was active. She was alive.

Why haven't I died yet?

"Well, forgive me for interrupting, but is this really how you want to die?" the goddess surprisingly answered her thoughts.

I'm dying anyway. This way or that way, does it matter?

"So how many more times do you plan to die this way or that way?"

I didn't plan any of this. Isn't it all already fated?

"Zhou Yuze."

The second prince? What about him?

"This time, don't wait until he finds you dying in his arms."

What do you mean?

Yaling started hyperventilating in her sleep. Amid her distress, she could faintly hear a voice repeatedly calling out the name "Zhou Yuze." As she slowly regained consciousness and sat up, she realized that the voice was her own.

Feeling overwhelmed, she buried her face with her hands and focused on taking deep, calming breaths. Unconsciously, she reached for the spot on her right abdomen where she was stabbed. Nothing there, of course, but the lingering memory of the traumatic event.

The remnants of her past lives were only preserved as fragments of information. She gained the privilege of foreseeing events before they transpired and uncovering secrets before they were unveiled. However, the novelty of this had long faded, and she had ceased to pay it much heed. Was she so remiss to have compelled her assassin to stab her instead of using poison? To court the intervention of a goddess? If that could even be considered assistance.
Zhou Yuze.

He'd just arrived at the palace and coincidentally encountered her at the gate. As he confirmed her intention to take part in the crown princess selection, he gently urged her to be cautious. The way he had murmured her name, A'Ling, had been so soft that she had doubted her ears until the day before. However, since that encounter, they have not crossed paths again.

She rose from the bed and threw on a robe to retrieve some water from the courtyard. The night air was crisp as she drank her water, pausing to gaze at the twinkling stars scattered across the sky. Thoughts of the two princes consumed her mind. Then, as the first rays of the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, she gave up on settling back to bed and waited somewhat impatiently for the palace maids to prepare her.

"Ling'er," her godmother's voice increased in decibel from calling her for a while. "Finally, you look at me. What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, godmother, I'm okay."

"Are you nervous about tonight?"

"No, I'm not."

Her godmother eyed her carefully.

"I'm really not. But if I were nervous, or if, for some reason, I didn't want to marry him anymore—"

"Suddenly? Haven't you admired the crown prince since you saw him in the city market years ago? And when he rescued you from those bullies in the palace, you told me that you fell in love."

"Did I?"

"If you didn't, your godfather and I wouldn't have let you go through with this."

Her godparents have a love marriage and always encourage her to marry for love as well, never pressuring her to entertain just any eligible suitor. Even the crown prince.

"Don't worry, godmother. I do love him. Very much. It's just that...I had a nightmare. The crown prince—"

"He loves someone else. It's the prime minister's granddaughter, isn't it?"

"No, he loves me back, but we...we die in each other's arms on our wedding night."

"Knock on wood! Don't say such inauspicious things."

"What should I do, godmother? It feels so real."

"Oh, Ling'er. Don't worry. It's only a nightmare, but...if you feel that your life is threatened, perhaps we should speak with your godfather. You should know, you're most important to us."

Yaling hesitantly nodded in acknowledgment but dared not ask any further questions. The weight of her godmother's words sent a shiver down her spine, as they stirred up a chilling sense of déjà vu. She had intentionally kept her distance from them, not wanting to cause undue worry. However, she couldn't deny that she had been overwhelmed by a sense of melancholy the day before. She could have easily let her situation slip out in the guise of a dream.

Could this one conversation have changed the course of her fate? If her godparents had arranged for her protection and inadvertently alerted her assassin the day before, then now that they were having the same discussion... She gulped in nervous anticipation of another slow and brutal death.