The sky darkened, its vibrant colors muted by rain clouds as if nature had drawn a soft, gray curtain. Raindrops began to fall, as though the sky itself wore a melancholic expression, shedding tears of sorrow. The clouds rumbled as if heralding an impending storm, but all that remained were mere traces of anger and sorrow, nothing more and nothing less
.Behind the silk curtains of the general's mansion, a pair of innocent eyes glistened with tears of sorrow. Her once-bright eyes had turned red as she struggled to contain her emotions.
The weight of the golden embellishments on her head only added to her burden as she fought back the tears. Her vibrant red hanfu, adorned with intricate golden embroidery, glimmered beneath the cascade of her falling tears. She resembled an innocent flower, seated in front of the mirror, her lustrous hair flowing down her back, receiving tender care through each careful stroke of the brush.
She gazed into the mirror, but instead of a smiling girl, all she saw was one with tears streaming down her face. Her mother's wish had never materialized – she longed for love, not to be treated as an object. Shortly after, the head maid entered the room. She bowed gracefully and conveyed,
"Young miss, the general requests your presence." As she turned toward the maid with hopeful eyes, she noticed no hope but pity in the glances of those around her, even the maids. Some looked at her with disgust. She yearned to be with her family, not to endure these pitying or disdainful stares.
Summoning her strength, she rose from her seat, concealing her tears. Her red silk hanfu fluttered as a maid handed her the crimson wedding veil, which was gently placed upon her head. She moved gracefully, taking measured steps across the grand mansion toward her father's study. A crimson veil concealed her beauty, yet her presence radiated an unmistakable, dazzling aura. The general rose from his seat upon seeing his daughter, soon to be wed, enter the room. His eyes betrayed fatigue and sorrow, though he masked these emotions with a stoic demeanor. Having spent over three decades on the battlefield, he had mastered the art of concealing his feelings.
Despite his composed exterior, his heart ached as he bid farewell to his cherished daughter, whom he had sworn to protect since the passing of his beloved wife. He bore the weight of a father's guilt for failing to shield his only daughter. His gaze lingered on the once-playful figure before him, now matured and composed.
His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, "Ah, my dear Lan'er, you look so beautiful today. This father can't help but feel guilty seeing his daughter like this. Your mother won't forgive me when I meet her in the afterlife. Lan'er, my precious daughter, please forgive your remorseful father. I failed in my duty to protect you as a father." With those words, he succumbed to tears, holding his daughter even tighter, as though he feared she might vanish if he let go.
Unable to restrain her tears at her father's remorseful words, Lan'er felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for causing her father's anguish. She thought, "It was never his fault. It was always mine. If only I had stayed home that day..." She composed herself once more, but this time, her emotions neither leaned toward sadness nor happiness. They seemed to vanish as if sealed away. She straightened her posture and clasped her maid's hand, walking away without glancing back at her grieving father.
General Xia, once renowned as the lion of the battlefield, crumpled to the ground as if his entire world had collapsed. In truth, it had collapsed twice—first with the loss of his wife and now with his daughter. Those he had cherished dearly were slowly departing from his side as he drowned in sorrow.
The bridal palanquin, conveying the bride to the groom's mansion, arrived in grandeur. It wasn't an ordinary conveyance but a royal sedan, a gift from the Prime Minister's mansion. It gleamed with dazzling embellishments that nearly blinded onlookers with their brilliance. Trunks of precious treasures and large boxes of silver and gold were delivered to the General's mansion as part of the dowry.
As the townspeople glimpsed these opulent offerings, a mixture of jealousy and astonishment coursed through them. They couldn't believe that the daughter of a general was being married off as a concubine. Yet, hidden behind curious gazes, simmered the seething resentment in the eyes of a young girl, Li Qing, the General's adopted daughter, who harbored deep grievances against Xia Yu Lan.
As Yu Lan stepped into the grand royal sedan, all eyes turned towards her, their gazes burning with intensity, especially Li Qing's. She couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt weighing on her, even though she was innocent of any wrongdoing.
Seated within the bridal palanquin, it ascended from the earth with a deliberate grace. Her head remained proudly held high, concealing the inner turmoil. Her hands, cold as ice, belied the anxious storm within. The once rosy-pink lips had now faded to a pale hue, mirroring the loss of her former self. She felt akin to a delicate flower uprooted from its nurturing soil and thrust into an unforgiving terrain. Unbearable pain and guilt encased her heart as she gazed outward, her eyes devoid of life.
As night descended, everyone found rest. The guards and servants had set the sedan down and slept peacefully, free from worry. However, Yu Lan couldn't find sleep. Memories of her parents flooded her thoughts - her mother's tender touch, the sweet scent of osmanthus cakes, and her father's hearty laughter.
The moon gazed down upon her with a comforting demeanor. She parted her lips to speak to herself. "Mother, I'm departing from this home and stepping into a new one. I'm anxious that I might face rejection and be cast away. I'm afraid of feeling abandoned, dear mother. I truly wished you were here beside me."
The darkness of the night filled her with fear. She fervently longed for her mother's presence. It was a difficult moment for a sixteen-year-old girl who was about to be married off. What else could she wish for, except her mother's comforting presence at a time like this?