The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scents of spices, fresh bread, and blooming flowers through the lively streets of the market. Lin Xiaohua strolled gracefully beneath a delicate silk parasol, her long, black hair catching the sun's rays as they danced along its glossy strands. Her eyes—an enchanting shade of green, vibrant yet deep, like the first buds of spring—shimmered with quiet curiosity as she took in the vibrant market stalls lining both sides of the street.
Beside her skipped Jingwei, his laughter bright and carefree. His own jade-green eyes sparkled with joy as he clutched a wooden toy dragon that flapped its wings when twisted. "Look, sister! It can fly!" he exclaimed, spinning the toy eagerly.
A soft laugh escaped Xiaohua's lips. "Careful, little one, or the dragon might fly away before we even reach home."
Around them, a handful of maids and guards moved in practiced formation, their expressions watchful but respectful, maintaining a polite distance. Xiaohua's silk robes trailed elegantly behind her, the intricate embroidered patterns shimmering in the sunlight. She glanced at the stalls displaying fine fabrics, glimmering jewelry, and fragrant herbs as merchants called out to potential customers.
Despite the colorful atmosphere, a wistful sigh escaped her lips. If only I could walk these streets without maids, without guards… just as any other girl. The thought tugged at her heart. What would it feel like to weave through the crowd unnoticed, free to explore the city without obligation or constraint? But such freedom was a fleeting dream.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Jingwei tugged on her sleeve, his jade eyes gleaming with excitement. "Sister, come! Look at these masks!" he cried, pulling her toward a stall brimming with painted masks, each more vibrant and elaborate than the last.
Xiaohua allowed herself to be led, a smile softening her features as Jingwei marveled at the masks. He held up a particularly colorful one—a phoenix with gilded feathers—and pressed it to his face. "Look, sister! I am the great Phoenix King!" he declared with a triumphant pose.
She laughed, gently tapping the top of his head. "A mighty phoenix indeed, but I believe the real phoenix needs a little more grace."
Jingwei giggled, spinning in place with the mask still on. "What do you think, sister? Do I look grand enough to join the emperor's court?"
"You look more like a dragonfly trapped in a storm," Xiaohua teased, her green eyes crinkling with amusement.
Xiaohua reached for a simpler mask—a white lotus with delicate gold accents. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface, the serene expression on the mask mirroring her own. For a moment, she wondered what it might feel like to hide behind such a mask, to let the world see only its painted perfection while concealing her true self.
"Shall we take these two, my lady?" Liqin, her head maid, asked gently, holding a small purse of coins.
Xiaohua nodded, handing the lotus mask to Liqin. "Yes, and add a smaller one for Jingwei. He deserves a little collection."
"Thank you, sister!" Jingwei beamed, hopping excitedly as Liqin made the purchase.
They continued their stroll, stopping at stalls offering vibrant silks and hand-carved figurines. Jingwei darted from one stand to the next, marveling at the treasures. His infectious joy warmed Xiaohua's heart, momentarily lifting the weight of her thoughts. She allowed herself to indulge in the moment, picking out gifts—a soft blue silk scarf for her brother, an embroidered pouch for Liqin, and a finely carved comb for herself.
As they approached a confectioner's stall, Jingwei pointed to the rows of sugar figurines shaped like animals and mythical creatures. "Sister, can we take one home? Please? I promise to share!"
Xiaohua chuckled and nodded. "Only if you promise not to spoil your dinner."
The confectioner, a cheerful old man with kind eyes, handed Jingwei a delicate sugar tiger. Jingwei studied it carefully, then held it up to Xiaohua with a grin. "This is for you, sister! You're like the tiger—graceful but strong!"
Touched by his words, Xiaohua accepted the sweet with a soft smile. "Thank you, my little phoenix."
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the market, the group began their journey back to the Lin estate. Jingwei skipped ahead, clutching his new treasures, while Xiaohua walked in thoughtful silence.
When they arrived at the grand gates of their home, they were greeted by a steward with a deep bow. "My lady, the General has arrived. He requests your presence in the main hall."
Xiaohua froze, her grip tightening on the comb in her hand. The warmth of the market seemed to vanish, replaced by an icy dread that crept down her spine.
"General Wang?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
"Yes, my lady. He is waiting for you," the steward replied, his tone measured but careful.
Xiaohua forced herself to breathe, casting a glance at Jingwei, who was busy admiring his new scarf. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Jingwei, why don't you take your gifts to your chambers? Liqin will accompany you."
Jingwei pouted but nodded, sensing the shift in her tone. "Will you join me soon, sister?"
"Of course, little one," Xiaohua said softly, brushing a strand of his dark hair aside. "Go along now."
As Jingwei disappeared into the house with Liqin, Xiaohua turned toward the main hall, her steps slow but deliberate. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a reminder of the man she would soon face.
Xiaohua paused in the corridor leading to the main hall, her thoughts swirling like a storm. Her palms felt clammy, and she instinctively wiped them against her robes, smoothing the already pristine fabric. The comb she had bought earlier was still clutched in her hand, its intricate carvings digging into her palm. She hadn't realized how tightly she was holding it.
Her mind raced. What could General Wang possibly want? Why has he returned so soon? A small voice in her heart whispered fears she dared not give voice to.
Her steps faltered as she neared the ornately carved double doors of the main hall. The muffled sounds of conversation reached her ears, low and indistinct, yet unmistakably authoritative. She could almost feel the General's presence seeping through the heavy doors, suffocating and overwhelming.
Lost in her thoughts, Xiaohua rounded a corner too quickly and collided with a maid carrying a tray of porcelain cups.
"Oh!" the maid exclaimed, her balance faltering. The tray wobbled precariously before a few cups slid off, shattering on the polished floor with a piercing crash.
Xiaohua gasped, stepping back in alarm. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going."
The maid dropped to her knees immediately, bowing her head low. "Forgive me, my lady! It was my fault entirely." Her voice trembled as she hastily began picking up the shards, her hands moving quickly but carefully.
"No, no," Xiaohua said, her voice soft but urgent. She knelt beside the maid, ignoring her protests. "Let me help you."
"My lady, please, you mustn't!" The maid's eyes widened in panic, her hands freezing mid-motion.
Xiaohua ignored her plea, picking up a larger shard and placing it carefully on the tray. "You could have hurt yourself," she said gently, her tone meant to soothe.
The maid blinked at her, clearly startled by Xiaohua's kindness. "Thank you, my lady," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rising to her feet, Xiaohua offered the maid a reassuring smile. "Please, take care."
As the maid gathered the rest of the shards and hurried away, Xiaohua straightened her robes, letting out a shaky breath. The brief distraction had momentarily eased her nerves, but the weight of what awaited her still loomed large.
She glanced toward the hall doors again, her pulse quickening. Composure, Xiaohua, she told herself. She lifted her chin slightly, forcing her shoulders to relax. If she was to meet General Wang, she would do so with dignity, no matter how unsteady she felt inside.
Taking one final breath, Xiaohua stepped forward. The massive doors seemed to loom taller with every step, the intricate carvings of dragons and phoenixes glaring down at her like silent witnesses. When she reached them, her hand hesitated over the brass handle.
Xiaohua's fingers hovered over the brass handle, trembling ever so slightly. The ornate dragons etched into the metal seemed alive, their scales shimmering faintly in the dim corridor light, their snarling faces reflecting her turmoil.
Her heart thudded in her chest, loud and unrelenting. The sound seemed to echo in her ears, drowning out every rational thought. Why is he here again? she wondered, the question an uninvited guest in her mind.
She thought back to the General's reputation—his ruthlessness on the battlefield, the cold authority that made even seasoned soldiers cower. How could such a man wish to wed her? A delicate, quiet soul bound more by poetry than politics, by dreams rather than duty?
Xiaohua's mind wandered to her conversation with Jingwei earlier at the market. His laughter, his youthful joy—they felt like fragile treasures, too delicate for a world so harsh. If General Wang were ever to hurt Jingwei… The thought was too much to bear, and she quickly pushed it away.
Her free hand tightened around the comb she still carried, the carved peonies pressing into her palm. She remembered how the vendor had complimented her choice, how she had imagined giving it to her future husband, perhaps on their wedding day. Now, it felt like a hollow gesture, an artifact of a future she didn't desire.
The sound of footsteps approaching from somewhere in the estate startled her. Xiaohua quickly stepped closer to the door, leaning against it as if to shield herself from the world outside. She closed her eyes briefly, gathering strength.
Why am I so afraid? she chastised herself. I am the daughter of the Lin family. I have been taught poise and grace since I could walk. I will not let him see me falter.
Her resolve hardened, but only slightly. Even now, she wished for something—someone—to intervene, to rescue her from the path her family had chosen for her. The memory of the young man from the lantern festival flickered in her mind, like moonlight breaking through dark clouds. His eyes, a blue as clear and vast as the sky, had offered her something unfamiliar: a sense of freedom, a glimpse of a life unshackled.
But no such savior would come. Not tonight. Not in this moment. Xiaohua knew this as surely as she knew the General was waiting on the other side of the door.
This is my fate, she thought, though the words left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Finally, with a deep breath, she pushed the heavy doors open. The faint creak of the hinges echoed through the corridor, loud in the oppressive silence.
And as Xiaohua stepped into the hall, her heart braced for the unknown.