*Gasp*
Chen Yulan, usually the epitome of grace and confidence, seemed a shadow of her former self.
Her steps were tentative and frail, each one taken with great effort.
Her dress, though exquisitely crafted, hung on her frame with a delicate fragility. The gown was a traditional red, symbolizing good fortune and joy, but the bright color contrasted sharply with her pale face.
The intricate embroidery and sparkling jewels on the dress shimmered under the hall lights, but they did little to mask the unmistakable tremor of her hands or the haunted look in her eyes.
The guests exchanged looks of concern and confusion. Whispers began to ripple through the room once more, this time laced with worry rather than curiosity.
"Is she unwell? She looks so pale," a well-dressed woman murmured to her companion, her eyes never leaving Chen Yulan's slow progress.