01

The Lǐ (李) residence, home to the Minister of Revenue, was transformed into a spectacle of grand celebration. From the towering entrance gates to the furthest corridors, every inch was adorned in auspicious red—silk banners embroidered with golden phoenixes swayed lightly in the morning breeze, while bright lanterns cast a warm glow over the courtyard. The air was filled with the festive sound of firecrackers, the joyful chatter of esteemed guests, and the rhythmic melody of ceremonial musicians. 

In the heart of the courtyard, **Minister Lǐ and his wife**, dressed in their finest robes, stood beneath a canopy of crimson silk, graciously greeting nobles, officials, and relatives who had gathered to witness the union between their daughter and the emperor's most favored son, **His Highness, the Fifth Prince, Kang Jun (康俊).** The joyous energy surrounding them was undeniable—women whispered in admiration of the **Lǐ** family's great fortune, while men nodded in approval of this imperial blessing. 

Yet, beyond the laughter and celebration, hidden behind layers of silk and tradition, **Lǐ Chun Hua (李春华)** sat in a quiet chamber, untouched by the mirth outside. 

Inside, the room was equally extravagant—**red draperies embroidered with gold thread**, an incense burner releasing a faint fragrance of **sandalwood and peony**, and a beautifully adorned bridal bed. At the center of it all, Chun Hua was seated before an ornate bronze mirror, dressed in her **Qing Dynasty wedding attire**. The **rich red silk robe**, meticulously embroidered with golden peonies and phoenixes, flowed elegantly over her form. Her hair, arranged in an elaborate style befitting a bride of noble birth, was adorned with delicate **golden hairpins, pearls, and jade ornaments**. Her face, painted with the careful strokes of rouge and powder, reflected the beauty of a perfect bride—yet her expression remained distant, almost ghostly. 

Behind her, **Xiaoyan and Wan'er**, her two most trusted servants, admired their mistress with awe. 

"Miss, you are the most beautiful bride in the capital," **Wan'er** whispered, clasping her hands together. 

"Yes! His Highness will surely be unable to take his eyes off of you," **Xiaoyan** added excitedly. 

Their words should have pleased her. Any other young woman would have blushed with anticipation, would have smiled beneath the weight of admiration. Yet **Chun Hua remained still**, her dark eyes staring at her own unfamiliar reflection. 

A stranger. That was what she saw. 

Without turning, her voice, soft but commanding, broke through the moment. 

"Leave." 

The two servants exchanged nervous glances. **Xiaoyan hesitated**, then lowered her voice in caution. 

"Miss, Minister Lǐ has instructed us not to leave your side until the wedding procession begins." 

At that, **Chun Hua finally looked up**, her gaze meeting Xiaoyan's through the reflection of the mirror. Though her face remained calm, there was an unmistakable sharpness in her tone. 

"...Are you telling me what to do now, too?" 

The weight of her words sent a chill through the room. **Xiaoyan and Wan'er instantly dropped to their knees**, their foreheads nearly touching the polished wooden floor. 

"This servant would never dare! Please, Miss, do not be angry—" 

Chun Hua exhaled, **tired rather than furious**. Her patience was wearing thin, but she did not wish to take out her frustrations on those who had always served her loyally. 

"Just go," she murmured, her voice quieter this time. 

Xiaoyan and Wan'er hesitated, glancing at each other once more before finally rising to their feet and bowing deeply. 

"Yes, Miss." 

With small, reluctant steps, they left the chamber, closing the door behind them. 

The moment the heavy doors clicked shut, silence fell. 

For the first time in hours, **Chun Hua was alone.** 

She turned her gaze back to the mirror, her fingers slowly moving to touch her **painted lips**, as if trying to recognize herself beneath the elaborate disguise. **This was not her.** 

Her mind drifted to that fateful evening, when the **imperial edict** arrived at her home. 

The head eunuch, the emperor's most trusted confidant, had personally delivered the scroll, his voice echoing through the grand hall: 

*"By the will of Heaven and the grace of His Majesty, the daughter of Minister Lǐ is bestowed in marriage to His Highness, the Fifth Prince, Kang Jun. May their union bring prosperity to the empire."* 

Her mother had wept with joy. Her father had beamed with pride. **And Chun Hua had remained silent.** 

Not once had she spoken her desires, and yet her fate had been sealed with ink and decree. 

Her fingers slowly drifted toward the wooden drawer at her side. With a careful motion, she pulled it open, reaching into a **hidden compartment**—a place only she knew of. 

From within, she retrieved a small item, **wrapped delicately in silk**. She unfolded the cloth with the utmost care, revealing a **single hairpin.** 

It was simple, unlike the extravagant ornaments currently weighing down her hair. **Silver, with a small carved magnolia blossom at its tip.** 

Her lips curled into **a faint, almost imperceptible smile.** 

It was **his.** 

A gift once pressed into her palm **on a quiet moonlit night**, a whispered promise before fate had stolen her freedom. 

Carefully, **she slid the hairpin into her hair**, hiding it amongst the golden adornments. 

A single secret, concealed in plain sight. 

As the distant sound of drums signaled the nearing hour of departure, Chun Hua lifted her gaze once more. 

The bride in the mirror sat **as she should—poised, elegant, a vision of perfection.** 

But beneath the veil of silk and rouge, **her heart remained untouched.**