As the days passed, I was getting used to this life little by little. At first, it felt like I was playing someone else's role, but now it came naturally. I was laughing more with my school friends, sharing secrets at lunch, and even enjoying the rhythm of classes. Home was cozier too — a combination of family, routine, and a little bit of luxury I never thought I'd have.
Nights typically wound down with me on the playroom floor, building block towers with Mingyu and Anqi. They were infectious with their laughter, and I could not help but smile when they tugged at my sleeves. My older brother, Liwei, worked late but never too tired to check in on me. He'd poke his head into my room, glance over my homework, and offer tips.
Your equations are correct," he said one night, nodding toward my math notebook. "But you overthink. Go with your first instinct."
I laughed. "Easy for you to say. You're the genius in the family."
Junwei ruffled my hair, smiling. "And you're the little sister who tries to pretend she's not just as smart.".
Dinner with my parents was a contrast — adult, even intimidating. During breakfast, Mom would move seamlessly from discussing the newest fashion trends to the mechanics of a hotel development. Dad, the strategist, loved to ask me questions.
"So, Lihua," he said one evening, swirling his wine glass. "If you had to put money into fashion or tech today, which would you choose?"
I blinked, surprised. "Uh… fashion?"
"Why?" His intense gaze never relaxed, but humor was in it.
"Because it's timeless," I said quickly. "People will always want to look good. Tech changes too fast."
He laughed, nodding. "Not a bad answer. You'll learn more as you get older."
Weeks merged into gala planning. My mother's assistant, Madam Xu, visited one morning with garment bags so white they looked sacrament. She laid them out solemnly on my bed: a designer gown, glittering jewels, and tiny shoes that looked too perfect to wear.
"Miss Lihua, this is your ensemble," she said with respect. "On the gala day, a professional team will arrive to do your styling and makeup. Nothing will be left out."
I reached out to touch the cloth, not able to help myself. It was beautiful — soft to my fingertips, yet demanding respect. For the first time, the reality of what was happening hit home.
The house was transformed in the days leading up to the event. People dashed along the hallways, phones to their ears. The florists came in with arrangements, wine and champagne arrived in crates, and decorators came and went. The grand ballroom of the hotel — one of my parents' hotels — was being polished to perfection.
If this were ancient times," I told myself, watching the activity from the staircase, "we'd be a royal family."
That evening, I called Jiahao and Yating.
"So what's the attire?" Yating's voice was filled with anticipation.
"You'll see," I teased. "But I'll give you a hint — there's sequins in it."
"I knew it!" she screamed. "You're going to steal the show.".
Jiahao cut in, laughing. "As if you two don't already. Don't forget we're meeting there. Our families will be reunited, like always."
I smiled, warmth spreading through my chest. It finally made sense why we were so close — our families had known each other for years. We hadn't just chosen each other; we'd grown up as an inseparable group.
And there was the dancing. Every evening, I practiced in the mirrored ballroom with my three brothers. I was the only daughter in the family and therefore had to take turns — a dance with each of them, and then, finally, a dance with my father. The pressure was excruciating.
"Relax your shoulders," Junwei corrected me during practice, placing my hand in the proper position. 'If you are tense, everyone will notice."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, nearly tripping over my dress hem.
He laughed. "Don't worry. We'll get you to shine through."
But when I collapsed into bed that night, staring at the ceiling, one thought rose above the others: Tomorrow, everything changes.
In the midst of the relentless preparations, the glittering expectations, and the secrets I still held close, I could not help but wonder — would the gala truly be the celebration it claimed to be, or the beginning of something else entirely?