In the quiet of her own courtyard, the air feels heavier than before, as if the brief disturbance had left something unsettled behind.

Shen Ling sits beneath the old tree, the untouched bundle of fine clothes resting beside her on the stone bench. The dresses look out of place here, too bright, too new, as though they belong to someone else entirely.

Curled in her lap, the small white cat shifts, its striking green eyes half-lidded in contentment as she absentmindedly strokes its soft fur. 

The steady rhythm of her hand is the only movement in the still space.“I don’t want to go,” she murmurs quietly, her voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves above. “I’ve never been invited before… So why now?”

The cat flicks its bushy white tail but offers no answer, pressing closer into her warm arms.

Her gaze drifts toward the courtyard entrance, though there is nothing to see beyond it, only the world that has always remained just out of reach.

But today, it came to her,  she will be the unwelcome but necessary guest at the banquet.

She had seen Jiang Ye once,while sitting on her perch in the old tree. Not up close, not properly, but enough to believe her sister wasn’t worthy of such a hero.

A  noble figure passing through the main courtyard a few days ago, surrounded by attendants and soldiers. Tall, straight-backed, dressed in the dark uniform of a young general. There had been something unmistakable about him, not just authority, but presence. The kind that drew attention without asking for it.

Jiang Ye.

Even from a distance, he seemed… different. Not soft, not indulgent like the men she sometimes glimpsed laughing with her sister, fawning on her, adoring her.Spouting flowery poetry or gossiping about other nobles. There was a sharpness to him, a quiet steadiness that made people straighten as he passed.

Shen Ling’s fingers slowed slightly in the cat’s fur.

“Hmph. "The small sound escaped her mouth thinking about the pairing.

“He must have been kicked in the head,” she mutters under her breath, a faint crease forming between her brows, “To want to marry Roulan."

The name of her sister carries no affection.

Her hand stills for a moment, her thoughts sharpening.

“She pretends to be gentle… perfect,” she continues, her voice soft but edged now, “but that’s not her true self.”

She knows her personality better than anyone.

Others see the polished version, graceful smiles, lowered lashes, carefully chosen words. But Shen Ling grew up just close enough to see the cracks beneath it. The impatience. The pride. The way her kindness could vanish the moment no one important is watching. Shen Roulan  is her sister and also her tormentor.

The cat shifts again, nudging her hand as if to remind her to keep petting his head.

Shen Ling blinks, her expression easing slightly as her fingers resume their gentle motion.

Above her, a single petal breaks free from the tree and drifts downward, landing softly against the fine fabric beside her.

For a moment, she simply watches it.

Then her gaze lowers, to the clothes, to the life she is being pulled toward, even if only for one night.

“I don’t belong there.” 

But the courtyard offers no refuge this time.Only silence and the certainty that, whether she wishes it or not, she will have to step into their world and not ruffle any feathers.

After the maid finishes adorning her hair with the heavy golden ornaments She sighs and whispers under her breath   "It's a pity this girl is not favored."

She applies a light coat of makeup and a shiny lip gloss then exclaims, “Miss,you are so beautiful, when you grow up you will definitely outshine Miss Roulan!”

Shen Ling takes her hand and warns, “I appreciate the compliment but never..never praise me in front of my sister, the consequences for both of us would be disastrous.”

The other maid nods her head and nudges the newbie, “Deadly.”

When the maids finish they escort  Shen Ling to the banquet leaving her two maidservants behind who Shen Roulan deemed unsightly.

Entering the grand hall Shen Ling  feels like she has truly entered another world The spacious room is more spectacular than she had envisioned. 

  Light spills from rows of hanging lanterns, their warm glow reflecting off polished floors and gilded pillars. Silk draperies frame the space in rich colors of maroon and silver.The low hum of conversation blends with the soft notes of pipa music drifting through the air. Laughter rises and fall like waves, effortless and refined.

It is a world far removed from her quiet courtyard.

And just as promised, she is placed where she will not be seen.

At the very back of the hall, near a carved screen and half-shadowed by a tall pillar, Shen Ling sits quietly at a small table. No one pays her any attention. Servants pass by without a second glance, and the guests, dressed in their finest silk and brocade keep their focus on the center of the room, where important figures gathered.

She doesn’t mind.This suits me perfectly! I would be extremely content if these gold hairpins weren’t so heavy making my neck hurt and my head throb!

In front of her, a small plate of delicate pastries sat untouched for a while before she finally picks one up, taking a careful bite. 

Sweetness spreads across her tongue, unfamiliar but so delicious. Her amber eyes bend into a crescent shape and a faint smile reveals two cute dimples as she savors the flavor. 

For a moment, she allows herself to simply exist there, unnoticed, undisturbed  while enjoying  the exquisitely decorated pastries.

 She glances at the crowded hall then he eyes are glued on  Jiang Ye. 

Among the lackluster group of officials he stands out, a head taller and godlike. She sees him and is briefly mesmerized by how incredibly handsome he is. Before she had only seen him at a distance. Wow…such a beautiful face.

Jiang Ye stood near the center, speaking with a group of officials. Even in a room filled with prominent figures, he stood out, everything about him was outstanding. Tall, composed, his posture straight and unyielding. His presence quieter than the others, but no less commanding.

As if sensing something, his gaze shifted from the official who was talking to him  and landed on her. 

She suddenly met a pair of dark eyes looking in her direction.

Startled, Shen Ling freezes meeting his dark eyes and almost chokes on the pastry. I was just casually glancing around… why did I have to catch his eye! 

She was certain he would look away, that it had been nothing more than a passing glance.

But he didn’t.

Instead, after a brief exchange with the men around him, Jiang Ye excused himself and began walking, straight toward the back of the hall.

Toward her.

Shen Ling's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the table. Should I get up and leave? No that would be too rude.

There is nowhere to escape anyway.

Nowhere to hide. Oh My God…NO! I don’t need Roulan’s wrath! I ...I ..

By the time she realizes he truly intended to approach, he is already standing there.

Up close, he appears even more imposing than before, not just tall, but steady, as though nothing around him could easily shake his balance. Yet there is something else too, something faintly amused in his expression.

He stops just beside the table, lowering his eyes briefly to the plate sprinkled with only a few crumbs, before returning to her face.

“You’ve got a little cream on the corner of your mouth,” he casually remarks, his voice low enough not to carry beyond them.

Before she can react, he extends a handkerchief embroidered with bamboo toward her.

Shen Ling blinks, startled ,her hand instinctively rises to touch her lips. 

Heat rushes to her face, “I…” she falters, quickly taking the handkerchief from him. “Thank you.”

Her voice is soft, hurried, her eyelashes fluttering nervously as she dabs at the corner of her mouth. The faint scent of the handkerchief reaches  her nose, subtle and clean, with a hint of wood and earth. Making the scene real...very real...

Jiang Ye doesn’t move away.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying her with quiet curiosity.

“You’re not enjoying the banquet?” he asks, glancing at her small, hidden table. He teases, “Or is this where they hide the best pastries?”

Shen Ling hesitates, unsure how to answer. No one important has ever spoken to her like this before, directly, casually, as though she belongs in the same world. But she knows she doesn't.

“They’re… good,” she manages to respond after a moment, her fingers still clutching the handkerchief. “I just…prefer it here.”

“A strategic choice,” he replies, a faint hint of amusement touching his voice. “Less noise. Fewer eyes.”

Her widened gaze flickers up briefly, meeting his unfathomable eyes for the shortest moment before dropping again.

Before she can say anything more, a familiar voice cuts in, smooth, controlled, but edged with something sharper beneath.

“Jiang Ye.”

Shen Roulan approaches, every step graceful, her gold-threaded dress catching the lantern light like liquid sunlight. Her makeup  is delicate, flawless, each detail carefully crafted to perfection. Her upturned eyes shimmer from the gold eye shadow carefully applied giving her the look of a fairy descended into the mortal world.

She looks exactly as she is meant to. Ethereal…a Goddess

Shen Ling’s grip on the handkerchief tightens slightly noticing the flash of malice in her sister's eyes flickering  toward her for only a second—just enough to give her a warning, before returning her attention fully to Jiang Ye.

“Father is looking for you,” she says gently, though there is an unmistakable insistence beneath the softness.

For a fleeting moment, Shen Ling braces herself, expecting him to turn to Roulan with warmth,  admiration, the kind of attention that matches the image of a perfectly matched couple. Maybe even mocking her for her messy appearance.

But instead…

“Mm,” Jiang Ye responds easily, as though it is a simple inconvenience. “Alright.”

No lingering glance. No particular softness.

Just acceptance.

And then, just as simply, he steps away.

Shen Roulan’s practiced smile remains in place, but it no longer reaches  her eyes as she turns to follow him, her ornaments chiming softly with each step.

Shen Ling sits very still. The noise of the hall seemed distant again, like a muted echo.

In her hands, the handkerchief feels impossibly soft.

She lowers her gaze to it, her fingers brushing over the fabric, and that faint woodsy scent lingers,quiet, grounding, unfamiliar.

Normally,she remains like an observer watching not caring too much. But for reasons she can’t quite explain, she hopes he finds a better woman  than her sister to be his wife.