The sun had already risen, inching toward the center of the sky, casting golden threads that danced across the rooftops of Yi Jing — the sleepless capital. The air carried a rich aroma, a blend of steamed tea, aged wood, and delicate incense drifting from upscale shops. No one ever truly stopped moving here, as if the earth itself spun faster within this city.
Yi Jing, the beating heart of the kingdom, was more than a city — it was a living being, breathing through its markets and whispering secrets in its narrow alleys. From above, it looked like a living painting of light and shadow, where colors blended like a mosaic of human souls.
At the heart of that painting, precisely in the great market, the noise was overwhelming — loud enough to drown out one's own thoughts. Iron-wheeled carts clattered on stone roads, horses neighed, and merchants shouted like warriors in a battle of voices.
"Apples from Mount Lang! Red as a maiden's heart!"
"Silk from Sichuan! Softer than a princess's hand!"
Red lanterns dangled from carved wooden ceilings, swaying with the summer breeze as if laughing. Children ran without aim, their giggles trailing like vanishing perfume. Women examined fabrics with expert eyes, hands gauging and comparing with precision.
And in the midst of this vibrant chaos — she walked.
Shen Tao Hua moved with a quiet grace, as though she didn't belong to this world, but rather to a forgotten poem stitched into a scroll of silk. Her figure was slender, yet her posture was steady. Her face bore a calm beauty, concealing a sharp mind behind alert eyes that observed more than they spoke.
Her dress wasn't extravagant, but refined — two soft hues met: a blush pink like the first bloom of peach blossoms, and a clear sky blue. Her hair was braided immaculately, each strand in place, fastened with jade pins that glittered with tiny dangling beads, catching the light with every turn — like tears from an untold memory.
Beside her walked a younger girl, dressed in a simple grey robe, her hair tied neatly back. Mo Chen, her personal maid, was more than a servant. She was her silent shadow, her loyal guardian. Her eyes scanned the crowd sharply, trained to read faces and decode danger.
Mo Chen whispered softly, her voice uneasy:
"The market is more crowded than usual, my lady… perhaps we should return before sunset."
Tao Hua gave a faint smile, barely visible, but heavy with meaning:
> "I won't run from crowds, Mo Chen… within the noise lie opportunities. Dreams don't knock on closed doors."
Her voice was steady, low, yet piercing — like gentle rain falling on a thirsty land.
As she scanned the stalls of silk and rising plumes of street food, something caught her eye. A shadow moved through the people — too fast, too quiet. A short man with a hunched back, hands moving with unnatural ease. He was heading toward an elegant noblewoman in her forties, clad in a gown embroidered with golden threads and a sparkling ring on her finger. She laughed, unaware, listening to her chatty maid.
Tao Hua's breath caught. Time slowed. The world went silent. She had to act.
In a swift motion unbecoming of a noble lady, she brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and reached for a jade hairpin — sharp at the tip, part of her adornment, now turned weapon.
With precise force, she hurled it like a dart — and it struck the thief's hand just as he reached for the silk pouch.
"Aargh! Who's the lunatic?!"
The thief yelped, the purse falling to the ground.
People turned toward the sound, startled. The noblewoman froze in shock, her maid screamed, and a guard sprinted toward them.
"Thief! Catch him!"
"There's her purse!"
Guards descended like wolves, grabbing the man as he twisted and cursed, but their grip was unrelenting.
Tao Hua exhaled deeply, then bowed toward the noblewoman, her voice soft but firm:
"Are you alright, madam? Forgive me if I startled you… but I could not look away."
The woman didn't respond at once. She stared — surprised, impressed. Finally, she said:
"Brave… I've never seen someone do such a thing. What is your name? Clearly, you're not married."
Tao Hua blushed faintly, but replied with quiet confidence:
"My name is Shen Tao Hua."
The woman's eyes widened, then she laughed gently:
"What a lovely name… Peach Blossom, isn't it? It suits you perfectly."
She reached out her hand:
"Please, don't say no. I will host a private tea gathering in your honor — as thanks for your courage. I am Ru Lan Liang, of the Liang family."
At that moment, Tao Hua's heart trembled.
Liang… One of the Seven Houses. Not just wealthy — they held the strings of trade: silk, tea, salt.
She bowed respectfully, her tone calm:
"It would be an honor, Lady Liang."
The woman chuckled gently:
"No need for such formality. You saved me — that's all that matters."
Then she looked at her thoughtfully and asked:
> "Do you know about my family?"
Tao Hua replied calmly, though her eyes shimmered with something deeper:
> "Yes… I've always heard about your trade. I've always dreamed of becoming a merchant like you. I never imagined I'd meet you like this — in the market."
Ru Lan Liang nodded with satisfaction, then said:
> "Those who dream sincerely, arrive."
---
At five in the afternoon, Shen Tao Hua stepped out from her courtyard like the shadow of a long dream, unwilling to awaken from its serene slumber. Her steps on the courtyard tiles made no sound, yet they stirred the air around her so deeply that the nearby willow leaves trembled, whispering:
> "Where are you going, daughter of silence?"
The answer was in her eyes, not her feet.
Behind her walked Mo Chen, the maid who didn't just accompany her but guarded her silence, held her secrets, and shaded her steps with a dark purple silk parasol — as if she carried the lingering night itself. Tao Hua's black dress flowed gracefully, adorned with red ribbons trailing from her waist like threads of fate, woven by ancient oracles on the night of an eclipse.
As she passed the courtyard of her older sister, Shen Meiling — only two years her senior but immeasurably older in selfishness — a voice like a rusted gate screeched from the balcony:
> "Ehhh! Where do you think you're going dressed like that? Trying to seduce someone? I'll tell Father!"
Mo Chen's face twisted with elegant scorn, her voice silky with a hidden dagger:
> "Mind your tongue, young lady. My mistress has been invited to a tea gathering by Lady Ru Lan Liang, wife of the great merchant."
Shock sliced through Meiling like a blade through insult. She froze for a moment, then stared at her sister with half-lidded eyes, smiling the bitter smile of someone who owns nothing but believes she owns everything. She swayed between madness and fury, muttering:
> "Even if she invited you, it's obvious you seduced her son! He's mine! His proposal will arrive soon, and you'll remain in this house's shadow."
Tao Hua smiled — not with sarcasm, but with compassion — and spoke in a voice like the strings of a guzheng:
> "Your imagination is… admirable. But no — I'm not thinking of marriage at the moment."
Meiling choked on her words, then shrieked:
> "Don't even dream of it!"
And stormed off, like someone trying to shatter a mirror only to be haunted by their own distorted reflection.
Tao Hua continued walking. In a soft voice, Mo Chen asked:
> "Why didn't you tell her? About the invitation? About everything?"
Tao Hua gazed toward the horizon, her eyes like seagulls that knew the sea never belonged to anyone, and said:
> "What use is planting flowers in a land that hates spring? My sister only sees life as a gilded cage… while I seek a breath of freedom — wisdom, commerce, something that reflects who I am."
Mo Chen nodded, like someone witnessing a star shining in a sky that had long forgotten stars existed.
---
At the Gate of the Liang Estate
When Tao Hua arrived, the main gate bore a golden wooden plaque:
> "House of Liang – Virtue above Glory."
The guards stood like stone statues, only animated when needed.
Mo Chen stepped forward and said:
> "Lady Shen Tao Hua has been invited to a tea gathering by Lady Ru Lan Liang."
The guards moved without a word, opening the doors as if old stories were unfolding their secrets.
They entered.
The first thing she saw were peach trees, many of them, in full bloom — a pink army guarding the courtyard against sorrow. In the center of the courtyard, another plaque shone:
> "Virtue and Wisdom."
Tao Hua closed her eyes for a moment. That phrase… she had heard her father repeat it countless times — like a prayer, like a promise, like a curse.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a soft voice, like spring wind playing a flute in an ancient temple:
> "Oh! Lady Tao Hua! You've finally arrived."
She turned. It was Ru Lan Liang, a woman who could have been the shadow of an orchid flower, or the heart of a tea field.
Tao Hua bowed in composed silence, to which Lady Liang replied:
> "No need for formalities. Come, there's something I wish to tell you."
Behind them, Mo Chen followed, along with two other maids in pine-green robes.
Ru Lan Liang spoke:
> "In truth… some of today's guests
are not ordinary women."
Tao Hua raised a delicate eyebrow, prompting Lady Liang to continue:
> "Her Majesty, Empress Zhao Xian Yi, and two ladies from the Han and Zhao families."
Tao Hua froze, as though the sky itself had forgotten how to breathe. She said nothing at first — only looked — then whispered:
> "It is an honor… if I may be honored."
They continued walking.
The corridors were alive with the scent of jasmine, workers planting blossoms in every corner, as if the estate had been designed to be a bouquet, not a residence. They reached a water pond, at its center a circular platform shaped like a lotus flower, accessible by a carved bridge.
And there — amidst gentle laughter and embroidered fans — her eyes found the Empress.
---
The Old Encounter
She was covering her face with a fan of gold, laced with silver. She laughed. But when Tao Hua said:
> "A good day to Your Majesty."
The Empress lowered her fan.
Silence.
Time froze.
Eyes met eyes.
Memory met memory.
Ten years ago — a lost girl crying under a peach tree, a boy attempting to bully her, a stone flying to stop him.
And another girl, her hair tied hastily, dressed in half-old robes, saying:
> "Don't cry. I'm here. I'm the daughter of General Zhao. No one will harm you."
Then they both laughed.
The moment ended with a handshake.
> "I'm Shen Tao Hua. And you?"
> "Zhao Xian Yi."
---
Now…
Tears sipped quietly by their eyes, never spilling.
The Empress said softly:
> "It's been a long time."
Tao Hua replied:
> "Yes… very long."
Zhao Xian Yi asked:
> "Have you become brave?"
Tao Hua smiled. "Braver than I thought I could be."
Lady Ru Lan Liang, mother of the young lord, asked with surprise:
> "Do you know each other?"
The Empress replied:
> "We were friends. I was fated to marry young, and never got the chance to say goodbye. Today, I feel the universe has sent her back to me."
Lady Liang bowed and said:
> "Then I am the lucky one, Your Majesty."
The Empress gestured to the two other women:
> "This is from the Han family, and this is from the Zhao family."
Tao Hua bowed politely. The ladies returned her smile.
And thus, the tea gathering began.
Soft conversation. Laughter timed like an old melody.
In Tao Hua's eyes, the peach trees shimmered — the reunion, the destiny, all reflected like ripples in a calm lake.
> "Hour of the Dragon. I'll be waiting for you at the tea gathering. It will be just for you."
Tao Hua smiled, a strange blend of excitement and dread fluttering in her chest — as if life had opened a door she never dared to knock on before.
---
The sun neared its zenith, spilling its golden heat over the rooftops, knocking like a heavy summer heartbeat. Shen Tao Hua returned from the market, her maid Mo Chen walking quietly beside her — a shadow trained in silence.
As they neared the family estate's main gate, the guards exchanged uneasy glances, quickly averting their eyes. None of them had forgotten the last incident — when one of them had dared offend Shen Tao Hua, and she had, with perfect calm, emptied a teapot of chili-infused boiling water on him. His clothes turned red as he danced about like a scalded rabbit. Despite her stepmother's protests, her father merely punished her with a week of confinement in her private courtyard.
Now, as they saw her again, the guards bowed quickly and opened the gates with light hands — not daring to provoke her creativity once more.
Tao Hua entered wordlessly, her steps soft — yet deep within her, a cautiousness stirred, as if the ground beneath her feet could explode without warning.
In the main courtyard sat Zhang Lihwya, her father's lawful wife, upon high cushions, flanked by her two handmaidens, and beside her sat the youngest daughter, Shen Yuyan, quietly sewing something in her lap.
Zhang Lihwua lifted her gaze toward Tao Hua, her voice cold and dripping with venom:
> "Your insolence has grown beyond measure, you unwanted daughter."
Tao Hua paused for a moment, then turned her head calmly. Her face bore no reaction—just a faint smile. She bowed quickly and turned away, gliding like a breeze that refused to be tainted by the smoke of hatred.
But inside... she was not empty.
There was a sting in her heart—not from the words, but from the constant insistence that she remained a stranger in her own home. Yet, she had never hated anyone in her family. She saw them as pieces of her fate… and fate is not to be hated, but understood.
She walked toward her mother's courtyard, where silence lived in the corners and the gentle fragrance of jasmine climbed the old stone walls.
Opening the door gently, she found Mei Qian, her quiet, concubine mother, lying on a soft golden bed. Her face was pale, her chest rising and falling slowly—life in her seemed to walk on tiptoes.
Tao Hua spoke with warmth:
> "Mother, I'm home."
Mei Qian opened her tired eyes and smiled tenderly:
> "Welcome back, my blossom."
Tao Hua approached, sitting by the bedside. Her eyes sparkled with a joy she couldn't hide. Her mother noticed at once—those eyes hadn't shone like that in so long. It was the kind of glow that hummed like a secret melody within the soul.
Mei Qian coughed gently and leaned against the cushions.
> "You seem happy today… what's behind that glow of yours?"
Tao Hua laughed softly, her heart nearly leaping from her chest:
> "Imagine, Mother! Today I met her… the woman I always dreamed of meeting—Lady Ru Lan Liang, wife of the great merchant!"
Mei Qian raised her brows in surprise:
> "You mean… from the Liang family?"
Tao Hua nodded eagerly, unable to suppress her smile:
> "Yes, exactly her! She was at the market. I saved her from a thief who nearly stole her belongings… and then she invited me to a private tea gathering this very day—at the hour of the dragon!"
Mei Qian placed her hand gently over her daughter's, stroking it with care, her voice blending caution and affection:
> "My blossom… I won't stop you from going out to see the world. I too once loved life, before my health betrayed me. But be careful, my daughter. The Liang family, like all great families, does not play when it comes to power and reputation. They are capable of anything…"
She coughed again, then continued:
> "But I know—your mind is not ordinary. You are wise, and I trust you. Just… don't let the glitter blind you."
Tao Hua embraced her gently and whispered:
> "I promise, Mother… One day, your name will be spoken in noble halls—not as a 'concubine'—but as the mother of a woman who commands respect."
Mei Qian laughed sincerely, embracing her daughter with a longing that hadn't surfaced in years. Moments later, she drifted into light sleep, while Tao Hua's heart fluttered like a leaf awaiting the wind of change.
She stepped out of her mother's room and whispered:
> "Mo Chen… it's time to prepare."
Mo Chen nodded, asking:
> "Shall I bring the chest of tailored garments?"
Tao Hua smiled:
> "Yes… let's see if anything inside is worthy of Lady Liang's gathering."
Soon after, Tao Hua sat before a polished brass mirror, dressed in a simple yet striking gown—black, with bold red threads swirling like flames.
She sifted through her hairpins.
> "Which pin do you think suits this moment?"
Mo Chen studied her features and replied:
> "This black one suggests strength… and the red musk pin carries a dangerous softness. Both simple… yet they suit you perfectly."
Tao Hua nodded:
> "Then use them both. Let my hair fall as the wind plays with silk."
She was ready—not just for the tea gathering… but for whatever came after.
---
Shen Tao Hua stepped out of her courtyard like the shadow of a long dream, unwilling to wake from the serenity of stillness. Her footsteps made no sound on the courtyard tiles, yet the air around her shivered. The leaves of the nearby willow trembled, whispering:
> "Where are you going, daughter of silence?"
The answer was not in her feet—but in her eyes.
Behind her walked Mo Chen, the maid who did more than accompany her—she guarded her silence, protected her secrets, and shaded her shadow beneath a silk parasol embroidered in deep violet, like an extension of a night that refused to end. Tao Hua's black dress swayed gently, adorned with red ribbons that flowed from her waist like threads of fate—light and silent, as if woven by soothsayers on an eclipse night.
As she passed the courtyard of her elder sister Shen Meiling, who was two years younger but infinitely older in selfishness, the latter called out from her balcony in a voice like a rusty door hinge:
> "Ehhh! Where do you think you're going looking like that? Think you can seduce men now? I'll tell Father!"
A puff of mockery rose in Mo Chen's expression as she replied with a silky tone that veiled a dagger:
> "Mind your tongue, young lady. She was invited to a tea gathering by Lady Ru Lan Liang, wife of the great merchant."
The shock cut off Meiling's breath, just as a sword cuts a curse mid-word. She froze for a moment, then squinted at her sister and gave a twisted smile—one worn by those who possess nothing but the illusion of owning everything. She wavered between madness and spite as she hissed:
> "Even if she did invite you, it's obvious you've seduced her son! He's mine! The engagement gift is coming for me, and you'll remain in the shadows of this house!"
Tao Hua smiled—not with mockery, but pity—and replied in a voice as resonant as the strings of a guzheng:
> "Your imagination is impressive. Truly. But no... I'm not thinking of marriage right now."
Meiling choked on her own words and screamed:
> "Don't even dream of it!"
She stormed off, like someone trying to break a mirror only to see their own distorted reflection staring back.
Tao Hua resumed walking, and in a hushed voice, Mo Chen asked:
> "Why didn't you tell her? About the invitation? About everything?"
Tao Hua, eyes scanning the distant horizon like a seagull that knows the sea resembles no one, replied:
> "No use planting flowers in a land that hates spring. My sister sees life as nothing but a golden cage... I, on the other hand, seek free breath, wisdom, trade—something that feels like me."
Mo Chen shook her head slowly, like someone watching a star shine in a sky with no stars.
---
At the Gates of the Liang Residence
When Tao Hua arrived, a gilded wooden plaque above the gate read:
> "House of the Liang Family — Virtue Above Glory"
The guards stepped forward, standing like stone statues that only breathed when summoned.
Mo Chen announced:
> "Lady Shen Tao Hua has been invited to a tea gathering by Lady Ru Lan Liang."
The guards moved silently, opening the doors the way old stories open their secrets.
She entered.
The first thing she saw was peach trees—many, blooming, stretching like a pink army guarding the courtyard from sorrow. At the heart of the garden, another golden plaque read:
> "Virtue and Wisdom"
Tao Hua closed her eyes for a moment. That phrase... how often had her father repeated it—as a prayer, a promise, or a curse?
She was pulled from her reverie by a voice as gentle as spring wind caressing a flute in an old temple:
> "Oh! Lady Tao Hua! You've finally arrived."
She turned. It was Ru Lan Liang—a woman who could be the shadow of an orchid and the heart of a tea field.
Tao Hua bowed with quiet grace, to which the lady replied:
> "No need for formalities. Come, there's something I wish to tell you."
Behind them walked Mo Chen, along with two other maids dressed in green the color of pine.
Ru Lan Liang added softly:
> "Some of today's guests… are not ordinary."
Tao Hua raised a delicate eyebrow. The lady continued:
> "Empress Zhao Xian Yi, and two ladies from the Han and Zhao families."
Tao Hua stopped, as if the sky itself had paused its breath. She said nothing—just stared, and whispered:
> "It would be my honor… if I'm worthy of it."
They continued walking.
The corridors were thick with the scent of jasmine. Gardeners planted flowers in every corner, making the house feel like a bouquet rather than a residence. They reached a lily pond at the center, where a round platform stood like a blooming lotus, accessible by a carved bridge.
There, amidst the soft laughter and embroidered fans, her eyes found the Empress.
---
The Old Meeting
Her face was half-covered by a golden fan stitched with silver. She laughed—light, regal—but when Tao Hua said:
> "Greetings, Your Majesty."
The Empress lowered her fan.
Silence.
Time froze.
Eye to eye.
Memory to memory.
Ten years ago—
A lost girl crying beneath a peach tree,
A boy trying to bully her,
A stone that drove him away.
And another girl, hair tied hastily, wearing a half-old robe, saying:
> "Don't cry. I'm here. I'm the daughter of General Zhao. No one will touch you."
Then they laughed.
And the meeting ended with a handshake.
> "I'm Shen Tao Hua. And you?"
> "Zhao Xian Yi."
---
Now…
Tears steeped in their eyes without falling. The Empress said softly:
> "It's been a long time."
Tao Hua nodded.
> "Yes… far too long."
The Empress asked:
> "Have you grown brave?"
Tao Hua smiled.
> "More than I ever imagined."
Ru Lan Liang, the hero's mother, looked on with surprise.
> "Do you two know each other?"
The Empress replied:
> "We were friends. Fate married me off quickly. I never got to say goodbye. Today… I feel like the heavens returned her to me."
Ru Lan Liang bowed graciously.
> "Then I am the fortunate one, Your Majesty."
The Empress gestured toward two women seated nearby:
> "This is Lady Han, and that is Lady Zhao."
Tao Hua bowed respectfully, and both women smiled at her.
The tea party began—soft conversation and laughter arranged like an old melody.
And in Tao Hua's eyes, the reflection of blooming peach trees, a reunion, and destiny shimmered.
---
The Next Morning
The sun rose with a strange stillness, as though it touched the palace roofs not to warm them, but to awaken the slumbering memories embedded in their walls. Its rays passed through carved wooden windows and slipped in faint lines into Shen Tao Hua's chamber, scattering across her pillows like an unspoken letter from the outside world.
Tao Hua sat quietly in the corner, dressed in a simple gray robe. Her hair was hastily combed, but her face looked sculpted from a distant dream. She hadn't slept well—the Empress's voice and that echoing laughter haunted her in ripples that refused to still.
A soft knock at the door.
Mo Chen entered, eyes wide with the weight of a heavy secret.
> "My lady… a messenger from the Imperial Palace has arrived."
Tao Hua raised her head slowly, as if time had paused itself, her eyes asking before her lips could.
Mo Chen stepped forward gently and handed her a folded piece of blue silk, sealed with a golden royal stamp. Tao Hua took the scroll with the tips of her fingers, as though she were holding a piece of her own heart, and slowly began to unfold it.
The writing was graceful—elegant, flowing like peach branches in spring wind. There was clarity, dignity, and something unmistakably royal in its tone.
It read:
> To Lady Shen Tao Hua,
We invite you, by Our own hand,
Empress Zhao Xian Yi,
To attend a women's council in the Outer Palace,
At sunset today.
> Written by our hand.
The time chose you.
The place knows you.
And we await you.
Tao Hua's hand fell onto her lap, the scroll still between her fingers. Something inside her chest opened, and something warm escaped—a silent tear.
The Empress's handwriting. Her hand.
This was no ordinary invitation. It wasn't courtesy. It was a summons deeper than honor—an acknowledgment, a trust, perhaps even a test.
But the moment didn't last.
The door burst open violently.
A harsh voice tore through the calm of the room.
Zhang Lihwya, her father's wife, stormed into the room as if flames burned beneath her feet. Her eyes blazed with a fury Tao Hua couldn't yet name.
She screamed:
> "What did I just see? Tell me—what is this from the palace?!"
Tao Hua stood calmly, placed the letter gently on the table, and answered in a flat tone:
> "An invitation from Her Majesty, the Empress."
As if those words were the spark, the explosion came.
Zhang Lihwya rushed toward her like she meant to rip her apart, clapping her hands sharply.
> "An invitation?! Do you fancy yourself a daughter of emperors? Do you seduce people with your cold stares and pretty words? What have you done to deserve the Empress's attention?! Is this how you repay my silence all these years?!"
Shen Yuyan, the younger sister, rushed to her mother, trying to pull her back with trembling hands.
> "Mother, don't shout... the Empress doesn't invite people lightly."
But the mother turned sharply toward her with a glare:
> "Silence! You'll become like her, won't you? All that polite tone and innocent eyes, while hiding your schemes! You're all the same!"
Then came Meiling, the elder sister, leaning against the doorframe, her smile twisted with venom:
> "I'm surprised too. I've never heard of the Empress favoring a concubine's daughter. Maybe there's a secret we don't know?"
She raised an eyebrow.
> "Or perhaps… a hidden relationship?"
Tao Hua said nothing.
She stood there like a column of silence, but she was far from passive. Her eyes watched. Analyzed. Endured.
Then—
Footsteps.
Firm. Heavy. Commanding.
The door swung open.
Shen Rui, her brother, entered in full elegance, his expression stern. He walked to the center of the room and stood in front of his stepmother.
His voice was calm, but carried the force of a gavel:
> "That's enough, Lady Zhang."
She hesitated for a second—then barked:
> "You're defending her? A concubine's daughter? A girl with no real bloodline?!"
He lifted his chin and answered with unwavering conviction:
> "I am defending a daughter of this house. My sister. The one honored with a royal summons—something no one else here has ever received."
She shrieked:
> "She steals the spotlight! Makes us all look like fools! You think I don't see? The Empress, Lady Liang, even her spoiled daughter—they all circle around her! How long will this go on?!"
Shen Rui's voice cracked with thunder:
> "Until you understand that light cannot be silenced by screams. That dignity cannot be bought with envy. And that those destined for greatness—will reach it, whether you accept it or not!"
Silence.
Zhang Lihwya looked around.
They were all against her—Mo Chen. Shen Yuyan. Shen Rui. Even Meiling no longer smirked. She looked down.
With a shaky breath, Zhang Lihwya turned sharply and slammed the door behind her, leaving the room trembling from the echo of her rage.
Tao Hua sat back down, lifted the letter once more, eyes scanning the imperial script. Her lips moved soundlessly:
> "It has begun."
---
Flashback – Under the Peach Tree
Tao Hua was not yet ten when she ran away from home, unable to bear the poisoned glances of her stepmother, nor the cold cruelty that seemed born of jealousy and hate.
She walked the capital's bustling streets aimlessly—escaping something she could not yet name. Her feet wandered through the chaos of vendors, clashing aromas, and deafening chatter. At last, exhaustion pulled her into the shadow of a peach tree, where she sat in silence, heavy with the grief of childhood.
Then came a boy—
A street child.
He didn't know her. He didn't need a reason.
He began mocking her clothes, her silence, her presence.
Picked up a stone.
But just as he lifted it—
> "Stop."
A girl's voice—sharp as command steel.
The boy froze.
A young girl stood there, poised like a flame wrapped in noble cloth. Her eyes gleamed with quiet authority.
She stepped closer and held out a hand.
> "Are you alright? What's your name?"
The small girl whispered:
> "Shen Tao Hua."
The stranger smiled.
> "A pleasure. I'm Zhao Xian Yi."
Tao Hua never understood how everything changed in that single moment.
Zhao Xian Yi took her home, and when confronted, she told Tao Hua's family with unwavering calm:
> "I invited her. I wanted her company today."
She never mentioned the escape. Nor the street. Nor the stone.
And that name—Zhao Xian Yi, daughter of the great General Zhao, fiancée of the crown prince—was enough to silence even the boldest tongues.
From that day, Zhang Lihwya never dared raise her voice to Tao Hua again.
For a friendship born under a peach tree had become a silent shield—one no scorn could break.
---
She always remembered those early days with her dearest friend…
But fate had other plans.
On the very day Xian Yi was to marry the Crown Prince, a fire broke out in Tao Hua's household. The stepmother blamed Tao Hua and locked her away in her courtyard for three full months, until the house was rebuilt.
By then, Xian Yi had left her father's palace. At just fifteen, she was now wife to the Crown Prince.
---
Now, Shen Tao Hua departed the family estate with her elder brother, one year her senior, in a silence as dignified as warriors marching to an emperor's hall. They passed the main courtyard where Zhang Lihwya watched from a window, her gaze sharp as arrows—wordlessly scolding her son for his unwavering support of his concubine-born sister.
But the brother never looked back. He helped Tao Hua into the carriage with the reverence of someone serving a forgotten princess. He climbed in after her. His personal attendant rode beside the driver, and Mo Chen joined them as well.
The wheels rattled against the stone roads.
And inside, Tao Hua's heart trembled in rhythm—
A tide of awe, joy, nostalgia, and looming dread.
Her brother noticed her distant gaze. Gently, he reached for her hand.
> "Are you alright? Why would the Empress summon you?"
She smiled faintly and patted his hand—calming his heart more than her own.
> "Do you remember… the fire, two years ago?"
> "Yes. I remember."
> "That day… the house was empty. No servants, no guests. Just me and Mother."
> "We were at the Emperor's wedding then… weren't we?"
Tao Hua nodded, a mysterious smile in her eyes.
— "You have a strong memory. That day, something happened that wasn't a coincidence. Do you remember rushing home because of the fire? But none of you finished watching the wedding ceremony."
— "Yes... that's true. Why?"
— "Because the one getting married that day... was Xian Yi. She was the same girl who once told me, years ago, that she was engaged to the Crown Prince."
Her brother's eyes widened, and astonishment spread across his face:
— "You mean Zhao Xian Yi... is our childhood friend?"
She chuckled softly and gently brushed his cheek, as if wiping away the dust from a dear memory:
— "I'm truly lucky... to have a brother like you."
He clasped her small hand in his, and smiled—he, the stern brother who rarely smiled.
Shortly after, they arrived at the gates of the imperial palace.
The guards were about to stop the carriage when Shen Rui confidently handed over the royal decree. The guards stepped aside and opened the heavy golden gates, above which hung a large plaque engraved with: "Virtue and Wisdom."
Tao Hua murmured to herself:
> "Strange... it's the same plaque the Liang family has."
Her brother led her to the courtyard designated for the women's council.
— "I'll wait here for you. Don't be long. We'll leave together after the meeting."
— "Alright. Take care."
They exchanged a smile, and Tao Hua continued forward, with Mo Chen walking gracefully behind her.
Once the door closed behind her, the imperial mask fell away from Zhao Xian Yi's face. She spoke the words Tao Hua had longed to hear:
> "Now—no formalities, no rules."
Tao Hua ran to her, as if time had collapsed into a single moment, collapsing years of separation into one embrace. She clung to her old friend like winter clings to fire, and the Empress held her tight—as if holding a daughter, not just a friend. Their tears fell silently, ruled by longing, not protocol.
When they calmed down, they sat beside each other, without barriers—just like they once had, beneath the peach tree.
The Empress said, her eyes glistening:
> "At first, I was angry that you didn't come to me before my wedding, and that I didn't see you again until the final days. I thought you had forgotten... then I heard about the fire, and how your father locked you away for three full months. I couldn't sleep. I kept wondering... did you sleep on the cold floor? Did you eat? Did you cry alone?"
She paused, then continued with a more serious tone:
> "So I ordered an investigation. On the day of the fire, no one was home except you and your mother... which means someone planned to kill you both. After a long search, it was discovered that a man had been paid to set the fire. The goal was clear—your deaths."
Tao Hua smiled sadly and said quietly:
> "I knew. I didn't need to investigate. My stepmother had always threatened to kill us."
The Empress gasped:
> "Heavens... is she insane? Doesn't she know who I am?!"
Tao Hua smiled, her voice calm but sharp:
> "If she did, she'd be praying to her ancestors by now."
The Empress laughed briefly, then her expression changed to one of absolute seriousness:
> "Listen. This is serious—there's no room for hesitation. I'm not just protecting you from the past... but also from the future."
Tao Hua felt a sharp pang in her chest, as if her heart had been warned of something terrible.
She asked in a soft voice:
> "What is it?"
Zhao Xian Yi began to explain, her voice lowered as if the walls might be listening:
> "When I married the Crown Prince, I was young, naive about politics. But within six months, I began to notice strange things... corruption in the imperial court. Five of the seven noble families are trying to seize control of the empire. Some are planning to assassinate the Emperor because he refuses to submit. I discovered that even some palace servants were spies. When I told the Emperor, I found out—he already knew. But he's waiting for the right moment to strike. His decision is near: exile the two innocent families, and execute the five involved."
She hesitated, then looked straight into Tao Hua's eyes:
> "During one of the councils... your father's name was mentioned. He might be one of them."
Tao Hua's breath faltered. She had suspected it... but hearing it from the Empress turned her doubts into a terrifying truth.
She said:
> "I think he is involved. His wealth has grown, yet his trade hasn't expanded. And our servants change far too often..."
The Empress shook her head.
> "Then it's confirmed. I cannot lose you again. The only option left for you… is marriage."
Tao Hua slowly lifted her eyes.
> "Marriage? To whom?"
Zhao Xian Yi replied:
> "There are two sons from the remaining noble families. The first has a terrible reputation—he beats women and disfigures their faces. The second… a womanizer, lazy, spends his days in taverns. He does not work, does not grow. But he is the only son in his family… and his mother adores you."
Tao Hua gasped and cried out:
> "They're both disgusting! One is a monster, the other… pathetic! I want neither! Xian Xian, please—find another way!"
Zhao Xian Yi's face darkened. She suddenly rose to her feet, her voice sharp and stormy:
> "Do you really prefer to die with your venomous family just to preserve your pride? Do you think living with a murderer is worse than living with a foolish man? Listen to me carefully—if you refuse me now, I will lock you away forever! Not as an empress... but as a friend who cannot bear to lose you!"
Then she left.
The slam of the door behind her echoed like a final verdict.
And Tao Hua stood motionless, as if carved from stone. Her head bowed low, her thoughts drowning in the shadows of a decision... a decision that might save her life—
but bury her heart.
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