Chapter 2: The Fire and the Frost

The ancient forest lay beneath a suffocating blanket of darkness.

Towering trees twisted toward the moonless sky, their dense branches blocking what little starlight remained. No birds called from the canopy. No insects stirred among the leaves. The silence was broken only by the uneven sound of Scarlett’s breathing as she staggered through the undergrowth.

Every vein in her body seemed to be filled with molten fire.

The aphrodisiac forced upon her had already spread through her bloodstream, and its effects were growing more violent with every passing moment. Her skin burned. Her vision blurred. Even the cold night air felt like steam against her face.

Scarlett dug her nails into her palm, using the sharp pain to preserve the last fragments of her consciousness.

In her previous life, she had been one of the deadliest assassins of the twenty-first century. She had survived gunshot wounds, torture, betrayal, and poisons designed to stop a man’s heart within seconds. Yet the body she now occupied was weak, chronically poisoned, and entirely untrained.

She could identify the drug tormenting her, but she had neither the equipment nor the necessary herbs to neutralize it.

If she did nothing, she would die before sunrise.

Scarlett forced herself forward until her foot struck something solid. She stumbled, caught herself against a tree, and looked down.

A man lay motionless among the fallen leaves.

Even in his unconscious state, he possessed an intimidating presence. His black robes were torn and stained with blood, but the fabric was clearly of exceptional quality. A broken sword rested several feet away, while the bodies of masked attackers were scattered throughout the clearing.

The stranger had evidently killed them before collapsing.

Moonlight briefly slipped through the branches, illuminating his face.

His features were sharp and aristocratic, almost unnaturally perfect. Dark brows framed closed eyes, and his pale complexion made him appear carved from ice. Despite his weakened condition, a cold, oppressive aura surrounded him, warning every living creature to stay away.

Scarlett crouched beside him and pressed two fingers against his neck.

His pulse was faint, but it was there.

What surprised her was the temperature of his skin.

He was freezing.

Not merely cold from the night air—his body was as frigid as winter stone. A dangerous frost poison had spread through his meridians, sealing his inner energy and slowly consuming his life.

To anyone else, he would have appeared to be a dying man.

To Scarlett, he looked like salvation.

“I don’t know who you are, handsome,” she whispered through clenched teeth, “but tonight, we help each other.”

Another wave of heat tore through her. Her knees gave way, and she collapsed against his chest.

The moment her burning skin touched his frozen body, relief swept through her. She released an involuntary breath and pressed closer, instinctively seeking the cold that could suppress the poison raging inside her.

Then something changed.

The scorching toxin within Scarlett reacted violently with the icy poison inside the stranger. Opposing currents of energy surged between them, one burning and one freezing, each seeking to overwhelm the other.

The man’s eyes opened.

They were dark, deep, and terrifyingly alert.

Scarlett found herself staring into the gaze of a predator.

“Impudent… woman,” Arthur said.

His voice was low and hoarse, like ice grinding against stone.

He attempted to lift one hand, perhaps to throw her aside or crush her throat, but his arm barely moved. The frost poison had locked his meridians and paralyzed his muscles. Even his formidable inner energy, or qi, remained trapped beneath the spreading cold.

Scarlett immediately caught his wrist and pressed two fingers against a pressure point.

“Don’t move,” she warned. “Unless you want the poison to reach your heart.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

No one had spoken to him in such a manner for many years. Even generals and ministers trembled beneath a single glance from him. Yet the disheveled woman above him showed neither respect nor fear.

Only desperation.

Scarlett leaned closer, using contact and carefully applied pressure points to guide the conflicting toxins. When her lips touched his, a rush of freezing energy entered her body.

At the same moment, the feverish poison in her blood flowed into him.

Arthur’s pupils contracted.

He had expected to die in the forest after being betrayed by men he had once trusted. The frost poison was rare, vicious, and almost impossible to cure. Yet this strange woman’s burning condition was somehow drawing the cold from his meridians.

The relief was immediate—but so was the cost.

An overwhelming heat spread through him, attacking the discipline he had cultivated through years of war and bloodshed. His breathing grew heavier. His frozen limbs slowly regained sensation, but his mind was assaulted by a fever that threatened to destroy his legendary self-control.

Humiliation sharpened his expression.

He wanted to push Scarlett away. He wanted to demand her name and discover who had sent her. Most of all, he wanted to punish her for treating him as though he were nothing more than medicine.

But the warmth she carried was keeping him alive.

Scarlett sensed his fury and tightened her grip on his wrist.

“Save your strength,” she murmured. “You can threaten me after neither of us is dying.”

For what felt like hours, fire and frost battled beneath the dark canopy.

Scarlett relied on every fragment of medical and toxicological knowledge from her former life. She pressed key points along Arthur’s shoulders and chest, forcing the icy toxin away from his heart. In return, his cold energy suppressed the poison consuming her reason.

Neither trusted the other.

Neither could afford to separate.

Eventually, the fever in Scarlett’s blood began to fade. Her breathing steadied, and clarity returned to her eyes. At the same time, a faint trace of warmth appeared beneath Arthur’s pale skin.

Scarlett slowly lifted her head.

Arthur stared at her with undisguised murderous intent.

His lips were bruised, his hair had come loose across the forest floor, and his chest rose and fell with restrained anger. Though he remained weakened, the pressure in his gaze was enough to make an ordinary person kneel.

Scarlett merely smiled.

“Well,” she said, rising unsteadily and adjusting her torn robes, “that was intense.”

Arthur’s expression darkened.

“You…”

“Don’t be ungrateful. I saved your life.”

“You used this king.”

Scarlett paused.

The title confirmed that he was no ordinary nobleman, but she had no time to investigate. Whoever had drugged and abandoned the original Scarlett might still be searching for her.

She brushed leaves from her sleeves.

“Consider it a mutually beneficial transaction. You helped me survive, and I helped stop that frost poison from reaching your heart.”

Arthur forced his hand from the ground. His fingers curled as if he intended to seize her ankle, but his strength had not fully returned.

“Stop,” he ordered.

Scarlett glanced over her shoulder.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“A passing ghost.”

She removed a broken piece of jade from her hairpin and tossed it onto his chest. The fragment was inexpensive and scratched, but it was the only object she carried.

“Keep that as your receipt.”

Arthur caught the jade between his fingers.

Scarlett gave him a mocking salute.

“If fate brings us together again, I’ll repay the rest of my debt.”

Before Arthur could respond, she leaped into the thick brush and disappeared among the trees.

Silence returned to the clearing.

Arthur remained on the ground, his body trembling with lingering cold and unfamiliar heat. He stared at the broken jade in his hand until his knuckles turned white.

No one had ever dared to treat the Regent King of the Great Yuan Dynasty with such insolence.

“Find her,” he whispered into the darkness.

Several hidden shadows emerged from the forest and dropped to one knee.

Arthur closed his fist around the jade.

“And bring her to me alive.”

Chapter 3: The Return of the Ugly Daughter

By the time Scarlett reached the capital, the eastern sky had begun to brighten.

The city gates were not yet fully open, so she slipped through a damaged section of the outer wall and entered a maze of narrow alleyways. Her torn clothing and disheveled hair made her resemble a beggar, allowing her to pass unnoticed among the servants and laborers beginning their morning work.

As she walked, unfamiliar memories continued to surface.

The body’s original owner had also been named Scarlett.

She was the eldest daughter of Harrison, the First-Rank Duke and one of the most influential officials in the Great Yuan Dynasty. By birth, Scarlett should have enjoyed wealth, protection, and respect.

Instead, the capital knew her by another name.

The Ugly Fool.

The ugliness came from dark blemishes covering most of her face. The foolishness came from years of confusion, weakness, and impaired judgment.

Neither condition was natural.

Scarlett touched the rough skin of her cheek and reviewed the memories more carefully. After the death of Scarlett’s birth mother, Lady Eleanor had taken control of the household. She presented herself as a loving stepmother, personally supervising Scarlett’s meals and medicine.

In reality, the so-called medicine contained small amounts of poison.

Day after day, year after year, Lady Eleanor had destroyed the girl’s health, clouded her mind, and ruined her appearance. Whenever Scarlett attempted to complain, Harrison dismissed her as foolish and ungrateful.

Tiffany, Lady Eleanor’s daughter, had been even crueler.

She stole Scarlett’s jewelry, tore her dresses, mocked her appearance, and encouraged the servants to abuse her. The previous night, Tiffany had arranged for several men to abduct Scarlett before her royal marriage.

The original Scarlett had died from terror, poison, and injury.

Then another soul had awakened in her body.

“They treated you worse than an animal,” Scarlett murmured.

A cold smile touched her lips.

“Rest now. Since I inherited your life, I’ll also inherit your grudges.”

She reached the Duke’s estate shortly after sunrise. Rather than entering through the main gate, Scarlett scaled the outer wall and dropped into the neglected courtyard assigned to her.

Weeds grew between cracked stones. Several windows were broken, and the roof of the small residence sagged from years without repair. It was difficult to believe that the eldest daughter of a First-Rank Duke lived in such a place.

The moment her feet touched the ground, mocking laughter filled the courtyard.

“Oh, look who decided to crawl back.”

Tiffany stood near the residence steps, dressed in embroidered pink silk. Gold ornaments glittered in her carefully arranged hair. Beside her stood Lady Eleanor, wearing an expression of practiced sorrow.

A dozen guards surrounded them.

Tiffany looked Scarlett up and down before covering her mouth with a silk handkerchief.

“I told you, Mother. Even wild dogs refuse to eat her.”

Lady Eleanor sighed theatrically.

“Scarlett, where have you been? We searched for you all night.”

“Did you?” Scarlett asked.

“Of course.” Lady Eleanor’s expression remained gentle, but her eyes were cold. “Your wedding is approaching. Leaving the estate before marriage is a serious offense. What will people say if they learn you spent the night outside?”

Tiffany laughed.

“Look at her clothes. Perhaps the men who found her had too much fun.”

Several guards snickered.

Lady Eleanor lowered her voice as though offering compassionate advice.

“You have already brought enough shame upon your father. Kneel, confess what happened, and perhaps we can prevent this scandal from destroying the Duke’s estate.”

Scarlett looked at her torn sleeve, then at the guards.

Their positions were deliberate. They had not come to question her.

They had come to silence her.

“Are you finished?” Scarlett asked.

Her voice was calm and flat.

Tiffany’s smile disappeared.

The original Scarlett always stuttered when frightened. She lowered her head, cried easily, and apologized even when she had done nothing wrong.

The woman standing before them showed none of that fear.

“How dare you speak to Mother that way?” Tiffany shouted. “Guards, drag her to the ancestral hall. Beat her until she admits how she disgraced the family!”

Two large guards advanced.

The first reached for Scarlett’s shoulder.

She moved before his fingers touched her.

Scarlett shifted sideways, seized his wrist, and twisted. A sharp crack echoed through the courtyard as the joint broke. Before the man could scream, she drove her elbow into his throat.

He collapsed, gasping and clutching his neck.

The second guard hesitated for a fraction of a second.

It was enough.

Scarlett swept one leg behind his knees and sent him crashing onto the stone path. Her heel struck the center of his chest, forcing the air from his lungs.

Both men lay helpless at her feet.

The courtyard fell silent.

Scarlett slowly raised her gaze to the remaining guards.

“Who else wants a turn?”

Every guard stepped back.

Tiffany’s face turned pale.

Lady Eleanor stared at Scarlett as though seeing a stranger wearing her stepdaughter’s skin.

For the first time, fear replaced contempt in her eyes.

Chapter 4: The Imperial Decree

“You are not Scarlett!” Tiffany screamed.

She retreated behind Lady Eleanor, pointing a trembling finger.

“Scarlett is weak. Scarlett is stupid. She would never dare strike anyone!”

Scarlett stepped over the fallen guards.

“I am Scarlett.”

Her voice remained quiet, but each word carried a chilling certainty.

“I simply woke up.”

Lady Eleanor forced herself to remain composed.

“You must have suffered a terrible shock. Come inside, and I will prepare your medicine.”

“The medicine you have served me for five years?”

Scarlett’s gaze settled on her.

Lady Eleanor’s smile stiffened.

“It was prescribed for your illness.”

“It certainly had a powerful effect.” Scarlett touched one of the dark blemishes on her face. “But I think I’ve taken enough.”

A flicker of panic crossed Lady Eleanor’s eyes.

She knows.

The thought was clear on her face even though she said nothing.

Her hand shifted slightly, signaling the guards to draw their weapons.

Before they could act, a loud voice rang from the courtyard entrance.

“The Imperial Decree has arrived! All members of the Duke’s Estate shall kneel and receive the Emperor’s command!”

An elderly eunuch entered while holding a golden silk scroll above his hands. Several imperial guards followed him.

Harrison hurried behind them, his face pale and his forehead covered with sweat. When he saw the injured guards and Scarlett’s ragged appearance, rage flashed across his face.

He had no opportunity to question her.

“Kneel!” Harrison hissed.

Everyone dropped to the ground.

Scarlett studied the imperial guards before lowering herself onto one knee. It was not complete obedience, but the eunuch chose not to comment.

The scroll opened with a soft rustle.

“By the mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Scarlett, eldest daughter of the Duke’s Estate, is of noble birth, virtuous character, and suitable conduct. She is hereby granted in marriage to Arthur, Regent King and Grand General of the Great Yuan Dynasty. The wedding shall take place in three days. All parties shall obey without delay. Respect this decree.”

Silence followed.

Harrison bowed until his forehead touched the ground.

“We thank the Emperor for his boundless grace.”

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The decree praised her noble character and virtue, yet everyone in the capital supposedly believed her to be ugly and foolish. The marriage was clearly not a reward.

It was a political arrangement—or an execution disguised as one.

The eunuch handed the decree to Harrison and gave Scarlett a curious glance before leaving with the imperial guards.

The moment they were gone, Harrison rose and struck the nearest pillar with his fist.

“Scarlett!”

His voice shook with fury.

“You shameless disgrace! Do you understand what you have done?”

Scarlett stood and brushed dust from her robe.

“I returned home. Apparently, that was enough to upset everyone.”

“The Emperor has married you to a crippled monster!”

“A crippled monster?” Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “That sounds peaceful compared with this household.”

“You fool!” Harrison snapped. “Arthur was once the terror of every kingdom surrounding the Great Yuan Dynasty. He controlled half the empire’s military forces before he was poisoned. Now he is said to be paralyzed from the waist down, and his temper has become violent and unpredictable.”

Tiffany recovered enough courage to step from behind her mother.

“He has already killed three women sent to marry him,” she said with a delighted sneer. “Everyone knows it. None of them survived more than a month inside the Regent King’s estate.”

Lady Eleanor pretended to look distressed.

“Scarlett, we tried to protect you. Unfortunately, an imperial decree cannot be refused.”

Scarlett understood the situation.

Lady Eleanor and Tiffany had likely expected her to disappear before the marriage. With Scarlett dead, another daughter might have been offered in her place—or the Duke’s estate might have used the scandal to bargain for a different arrangement.

Now that she had returned, she would be delivered directly to Arthur.

Scarlett thought of the freezing man in the forest and the predatory darkness of his eyes.

Could that stranger have been Arthur?

The possibility was amusing, but she had too little information to reach a conclusion.

Tiffany folded her arms.

“Enjoy your final three days, sister. Once you enter the Regent King’s gates, you will never come out alive.”

Scarlett smiled.

“Is that a promise?”

Tiffany’s confidence faltered.

Scarlett approached until only a few steps separated them.

“Because if I survive, I will return.”

Her gaze moved from Tiffany to Lady Eleanor and finally to Harrison.

“And when I do, we will settle every account.”