Night. A narrow boat slips through dark water. Yan Shu in plain clothes, hooded, standing at the prow. The palace lanterns glow distant behind her. She grips a small wrapped bundle.

Yan Shu returns to her old forgery workshop — a hidden room above a river-market stall. Dusty, cramped, filled with tools.

Yan Shu gathers materials from trusted contacts in the market. Jade dust, binding agents, special pigments.

Yan Shu begins the forgery process. Grinding, mixing, shaping. Days of painstaking work in her hidden workshop.

Yan Shu works on the forgery detail — copying the veining patterns of the original vow-jade onto the duplicate.

A time skip montage — Yan Shu working through nights, the duplicate jade taking shape, growing more convincing.

Yan Shu tests the duplicate against the original. She holds the fake up, waiting for the vow-jade to react.

Yan Shu realizes she needs to transfer a fragment of the original's magic to the duplicate — a dangerous, delicate process.

A messenger arrives at Yan Shu's workshop with news. The emperor is dead.

Yan Shu prepares for the funeral. She wears the forged jade at her throat, hidden under dowager-consort robes.

The funeral begins. The great hall filled with mourners, incense, and political calculation.

Ruan approaches the coronation dais. The ritual crown waits on a velvet cushion. Yan Shu begins moving through the crowd.

Yan Shu reaches the base of the dais. Ruan is about to claim the crown. She pulls the real jade from her sleeve.

The swap. Yan Shu grabs Ruan from behind, presses the real jade into his mouth, and whispers the new oath.

Ruan's second breath. The jade burns him from within. He tries to speak, to scream, but only fire comes out.

Ruan's third and final breath. The jade consumes him completely. He collapses on the dais, dead.

Jin ascends the dais. The coronation crown is placed on his head. The court bows. The bastard watches, calm and sad.

Yan Shu slips away from the funeral. She walks through a side corridor, the forged jade still at her throat, now dark and cold.

Yan Shu removes the forged jade, lets it fall. She walks out of the palace gates into the night.

Yan Shu walks into the market. A smuggler again. Alive. Free. The final panel shows her practical, calloused hands — no jade, no crown, just her.