It would be wrong to say the day I left the mansion was gloomy.
Because it wasn't.
The sun shone bright, the sky was so blue it almost hurt to look at, and birds chirped messy little songs that sounded more chaotic than cheerful.
A good day for a journey.
Shame I had to walk.
The cart fare was far too high for the frugal handful of coins in my pouch. So, I planned my route: walk to the edge of town, find a cheap ox cart passing through the lonely villages, then take the canals all the way to the city—
The Forbidden City.
Ariya's hand-drawn map guided me well, until I realized I had wandered back to the same street where I'd once been harassed—where their nails had scraped my skin until it bled.
The stares came first. Then the whispers. Then the ugly remarks about my skin.
Lianyu's coughing face flashed in my mind. Ariya, praying night and day. Yichen, silent with worry.
I wouldn't waste energy on insults.
So I fixed my gaze on the flowers. The scent of petals and damp earth filled my lungs. For a moment, the world felt almost peaceful.
I passed a mother scolding her son, a father clumsily tying his daughter's hair, an old man mumbling to himself.
Ordinary moments.
Moments I once had in Bharat.
Moments I would do anything to get back.
"Four copper coins," the cart driver barked.
I paid, climbed aboard, and listened to the ox's hooves sink into the mud. The cart creaked and groaned, smelling faintly of old wood and dung no matter how tightly I wrapped cloth around my nose.
The driver cursed the ox's slow pace. I bit back a laugh. The poor animal just stared at its hooves, as if wondering what sin it had committed to deserve this job.
"How long to the canal?" I asked.
"The night will pass," he muttered.
And it did.
The sun bled into the horizon. The driver lit a lantern, its small flame trembling in the wind. Stars bloomed overhead, bright and sharp. Huts dotted the darkness like fading memories.
I tried not to fall asleep, but every time my eyes drooped, the driver's curses snapped them open again.
Then came dawn—soft gold spilling across the earth. The road grew livelier; children darted between carts, chasing one another's laughter.
And then, there it was.
The Grand Canal.
Sunlight glazed its waters, turning them into liquid gold. Boats rocked gently on the current, ferries gliding toward distant cities.
I stepped off the cart and joined the crowd. The stares followed me again—crude, unashamed.
I ignored them.
I was too close now.
"Three copper coins—"
I handed the fare before the boatman could finish.
Water lilies floated beside us—green and white—like the jade hairpin Lianyu once gave me. Fishermen shouted across the water, nets glinting in the morning sun.
And then, beyond the bend, I saw it.
A wall of red and gold rising above the riverbank. Roofs crowned with dragons. Towers gleaming like fire.
The Forbidden City.
The boat bumped against the dock, jolting everyone. Shouts erupted as people pushed and pulled, dragging luggage across the narrow planks.
I tried to stand, but the wave of bodies kept shoving me back. It took every ounce of effort to squeeze through and climb onto the deck.
I pulled out Ariya's map again.
Of course—it didn't show the path to the palace itself. My heart began to race.
How was I supposed to find it now?
"Excuse me," I asked a woman nearby. "Do you know the way to the palace?"
She looked me up and down, eyes dripping with disdain. "And why," she sneered, "is someone so black going to the palace?"
I bit the inside of my cheek. No answer was worth giving her.
So I turned away and kept walking.
A group of young women in simple clothes—similar to mine—were heading in one direction. Perhaps they were also here to seek work as maids. I hurried after them, keeping my distance but following their lead.
After several minutes weaving through the bustling streets, we stopped before a wooden gate—plain and weathered.
It looked like a servant's entrance.
"Name!"
An older woman stood by the door, her sharp eyes scanning a list. She was shouting at the girls one by one, asking for their names and reasons for being there.
When my turn came, I straightened my back. "Meilina," I said.
She barely glanced up. "Reason for working?"
"To earn money and…" I hesitated. "To serve the Emperor."
A ripple of laughter ran through the other girls.
The woman's gaze snapped toward me now, sharp as a knife. "Serve the Emperor? What a statement! Do you even know how to read or write?"
"Yes," I answered firmly.
She blinked in surprise. "You can read and write?"
I nodded.
Her tone softened—just a little. "Meilina, was it? Come with me. We'll see if you're as capable as you claim."
Before I could respond, she grabbed my arm and dragged me forward.
I stumbled into a dim room where several men waited—inspectors, perhaps—alongside a few nervous girls.
They checked my hair, skin, heartbeat, and asked about my health. Their eyes lingered too long on my arms, but eventually, they nodded and told me to exit through the other door.
Dozens of girls were waiting in the next chamber, murmuring among themselves. The space was large, decorated with vases and flowers, clearly a waiting hall for servants.
Time crawled.
Finally, the same woman returned with a piece of paper in her hands. She began calling out names, assigning posts across the palace. Some girls cheered when they heard "outer courts." Others looked terrified at "laundry quarters."
Then, she stopped in front of me.
"Ah, the dark one who can read and write." Her lips twitched in amusement. "Well, consider yourself lucky, Meilina. You've been assigned to the Inner Palace."
"The… Inner Palace?" I asked.
Her smile widened. "It's where the Emperor's concubines reside. Try not to get in their way."
She thrust a folded set of clothes into my arms. "You start tomorrow. Be up by five. There's plenty of training to do—and with you looking like that, well…" She smirked. "We'll find a solution."
The other girls stared as I walked past them—some jealous, some mocking.
I didn't care.
I was one step closer to my goal.
That night, as I lay beside the other new maids, their whispers crawled through the dark.
"She doesn't belong here."
"She must've bribed someone."
"Inner Palace? Hah. What a joke."
Let them talk.
I stared at the ceiling, clutching the fabric of my new uniform.
For now, all I needed was a plan.
A plan to survive this place—
and find Yixuan.