In the west courtyard of Earl Su's residence, the sweet scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the opened lattice windows, mingling with the fresh air of late autumn. Anming sat before the polished bronze mirror, his movements precise and orderly.
He reached for the small pot of pale cream, dipping the brush and smoothing it over the mark beneath his right eye. The diamond-shaped birthmark, a rare sign of his Ger heritage, glowed a vivid pinkish-red before vanishing under careful strokes of powder. He worked in silence, the familiar ritual soothing his nerves. No one noticed the slight trembling of his fingertips. He'd learned long ago that a steady hand could hide a storm.
On the table lay his mask: a delicate creation of white silk, embroidered at the edges with fine threads that mimicked plum blossoms. It covered his face from just below his eyes and draped down his jaw and neck, obscuring the features that he could no longer call his. A cold reminder of what once was and what now is.
He tied the mask in place, making sure the knot sat snug and the fabric lay smooth. His maid's uniform, snow-white as always, fit perfectly. Lei Ming demanded nothing less. He adjusted the cuffs and smoothed the skirt, examining his reflection one last time. In the glass, he saw only a shadow: neither son nor daughter, but something in between.
Outside, carriage wheels rumbled onto the cobblestones, and voices echoed in the corridor, the sounds sharp, urgent, tinged with excitement and disdain. Anming stood, his back straight, and left his room without a sound.
In the entry hall, Mei Lan and Lei Ming waited. Mei Lan wore a pale blue gown embroidered with silver cranes, her hair pinned with jade and pearls. Her eyes swept over Anming with open contempt.
"Finally. You took long enough," Mei Lan sneered. "Try not to embarrass me today. You know what's at stake."
Lei Ming clicked her tongue, her gaze cold. "Remember your place, Anming. If you falter, if you draw attention in the wrong way, there will be consequences. You are nothing but a prop. One I can and will discard at any time."
Anming lowered his eyes. "Yes, madam."
The three of them swept out to the waiting carriage. The footman bowed, opening the door. Mei Lan entered first, her skirts rustling like whispers of silk. Lei Ming followed, settling into the opposite seat. Anming climbed in last, taking the smallest space, as was expected of a servant. The door shut with a finality that made his heart clench.
As the carriage rolled through the city, the stepmother and daughter began their usual dance of taunts and threats.
"You'll remember your place today, won't you?" Lei Ming remarked lightly, her eyes glinting. "The mask suits you it keeps things simpler for everyone."
Mei Lan smiled sweetly. "We're generous to let you out at all. If it were up to me, I'd keep you locked away where you belong. But Mother insists you have your uses, for now."
Anming stared out the window, watching the city slip by. The palace loomed in the distance, golden roofs gleaming beneath the pale morning sun. Nobles and servants bustled through the streets, all making their way to the celebration.
As they approached the palace gates, Anming's stomach twisted with a bit of anticipation. He let their words wash over him like cold water. He had learned early that silence was his greatest shield. Even their venom could slide off him if he gave it nowhere to stick.
The carriage joined the procession of noble families, each vying for a place near the grand entrance. Guards in lacquered armor saluted, and footmen rushed to open doors. Mei Lan exited first, head held high, face carefully arranged in expressions of genteel superiority. Anming followed at a respectful distance, his white uniform stark against the sea of color. Lei Ming stayed behind as she had another destination that was more suited for her. Today she would let the children play by themselves.
Inside the palace, the crowd swelled, the lords and ladies in their finest, courtiers with painted smiles, and a thousand whispers swirling through the marble halls. Anming kept his eyes lowered, but his mind was sharp and watchful, cataloging every detail.
They made their way to the reception hall, where the birthday festivities for the 1st prince would begin. Mei Lan's posture stiffened as she caught sight of a girl in crimson silk, laughing among a cluster of admirers. The prime minister's daughter, Bi Lei—Mei Lan's most persistent rival.
Bi Lei's eyes narrowed as she spotted Mei Lan. She glided forward, her attendants trailing behind like shadows. "What a surprise, Lady Mei Lan. I almost didn't recognize you with so many new jewels. Tell me, did you finally buy them yourself, or are you still borrowing from your mother's collection?"
Mei Lan's lips curled into a brittle smile. "Envy is unbecoming, Lady Bi Lei. But I suppose it suits you. Not everyone is lucky enough to be born with taste."
Bi Lei's laughter was bright and cruel. "Oh, I know. Some of us have to work for it, and some of us… well, some of us just play dress-up and hope no one notices the difference."
The two girls circled each other, barbs flying, their followers giggling or gasping at each exchange. Anming stood behind Mei Lan, silent and still. He watched Bi Lei's eyes flicker over him, curious but dismissive, as if he were just another piece of furniture. He was practiced at being invisible.
Their spat didn't last long as they were soon interrupted by the sudden hush that fell over the hall. A bell chimed, and a deep voice announced, "Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress has arrived."
Everyone turned, bowing low as the Empress entered, resplendent in gold and jade. Her presence commanded the room, and all conversation ceased. A moment later, another voice rang out: "His Highness, the 1st Prince."
The 1st prince strode in, surrounded by a retinue of guards and ministers. He was the very picture of princely virtue tall, handsome, with a smile that seemed to warm the room. But Anming's eyes, sharpened by years of watching, caught the calculating glint beneath that charming facade.
The Empress surveyed the gathering, her gaze falling on the young noblewomen clustered near the dais. Her lips curled in a smile that promised trouble. "It is a special day, and a special gathering. Let us begin with a little contest to celebrate His Highness's birthday. The ladies will compete. First in the art of dance, to tell a story without words. The most graceful, the most moving, shall be rewarded by the prince himself."
Bi Lei curtsied, her eyes glinting. "Your Majesty, perhaps Lady Mei Lan should go first. I am sure with Lady Mei Lan peerless reputation she will dazzle us all, as always."
Mei Lan offered a delicate smile, her tone gracious. "Lady Bi Lei, you are always so eager to perform. I would be happy to follow your lead and enjoy your display of skills instead."
Bi Lei's lips curled in a polite smile, but her eyes stayed sharp. "How kind. I suppose setting the standard does require a certain confidence. Mei Lan, I hope you find inspiration in my performance."
Mei Lan inclined her head, her tone honeyed. "I look forward to learning from your example, Lady Bi Lei. I'm sure it will be most… enlightening."
Bi Lei let out a soft laugh, the message beneath her words clear. "We all have our strengths. Some of us perfect our skills, others simply perfect the art of being admired."
Mei Lan stiffened. She shot Bi Lei a poisonous glare but forced a smile for the Empress and the 1st Prince.
Anming's heart beat steady beneath his mask. He knew the pattern by now: Mei Lan would feign modesty, then slip away so Anming could take her place for these public displays. His body could mimic her movements with perfect precision. It was a secret performance, one that kept Mei Lan's reputation gilded.
But today, something was different. Bi Lei's taunt had struck home. Mei Lan's pride blazed, and she shot Anming a sharp, furious look. Her voice was low and trembling with anger as she leaned in and spat, "Stay where you are, I'll handle this myself."
Anming blinked once, then retreated to the sidelines, heart cold. He almost laughed at her relentless pride and disgusting attitude. Just how stupid could she be? She had a peerless reputation because of him, her "heavenly" dancing was nothing without him.
Let her stumble, he thought, a cruel smile simmering beneath his mask. He would do nothing to stop her. As she ordered he would not move a single finger to help.
The music began, a delicate melody winding through the grand hall. Bi Lei stepped onto the polished floor, every movement poised and deliberate. She spun and dipped, arms arcing like the wings of a swan, her silk sleeves trailing behind her in graceful whorls. Her footwork was precise, each step measured and flawless as she painted the story of a swan rising from the ashes.
Her beauty in motion was undeniable. The assembly watched, entranced by the elegance of her lines, the practiced turns, the perfect posture. Bi Lei's expression was serene, her every gesture refined and controlled. She seemed to glide across the floor, ethereal and untouchable, a living swan among mortals.
The crowd murmured their approval, enchanted by the spectacle, their eyes following her every movement as if under a spell.
As the final notes of the melody lingered in the air, Bi Lei lowered herself into a soft, elegant bow. Her silk sleeves fanned around her like the wings of a resting swan, and for a heartbeat, the hall seemed to hold its breath. Then applause rippled through the crowd, polite at first, then swelling as nobles and courtiers murmured their admiration. Bi Lei's serene smile never faltered as she returned to her place, her gaze lingering on Mei Lan with quiet confidence.
Now it was Mei Lan's turn.
Mei Lan followed, her jaw set and her cheeks flushed with anger. As she took her place at the center of the floor, the musicians struck up a livelier tune—a song meant to evoke the resilience of a willow bending in the storm. She began to move, her arms slicing through the air with sharp precision, steps quick and almost frantic. Her pale sleeves snapped with each movement, fluttering more like banners in a gale than gentle willow leaves.
She spun and dipped, attempting to mimic the willow's graceful sway, but her motions were rigid, her rhythm broken by the tempest inside her. The story she tried to tell was lost amid the stiffness of her limbs and the tension in her face. Where Bi Lei had glided like a swan, Mei Lan seemed locked in battle with the music itself, her body betraying every ounce of pride and frustration boiling within her.
Her eyes darted toward Bi Lei, then to the Empress and 1st prince, as if searching for approval through the haze of her fury and for a moment, her steps faltered. Still, she pressed on, forcing herself through the final twirls and bows.
When the music ended, Mei Lan held her pose. There was a brief hush before the audience responded a polite, tempered applause, courteous but lacking in genuine excitement. The contrast to Bi Lei's performance was unmistakable.
The Empress's eyes glimmered with amusement. "A valiant effort, Lady Mei Lan. Perhaps your talents lie elsewhere?"
Mei Lan's face burned, and she retreated, fists clenched. Bi Lei's laughter was soft but deadly.
The Empress lifted a hand, silencing the room. "Let us have a second round. Lady Bi Lei, as the victor of the first, may choose the next contest."
Bi Lei bowed, her gaze sly. "Your Majesty, I propose an archery contest. Let us see whose aim is truest."
The Empress nodded, clearly pleased. "Excellent. Archery it shall be."
Mei Lan paled, then forced a smile, bowing low. "Your Majesty," she began delicately, "I had not expected an archery contest today. I fear I am unprepared and would not wish to disappoint you with a hasty attempt."
Bi Lei's lips curled in a sly smile. "Oh? I thought Lady Mei Lan's talents needed no preparation. Isn't that what they say at every gathering?" Her words were honeyed on the surface, but the bite underneath was unmistakable.
Mei Lan flushed, struggling to hide her discomfort. "Of course, one should always strive for excellence… but truly, my attire is not suited for such a sport."
Bi Lei tilted her head, feigning concern. "If your skills are as natural as everyone claims, surely a change of clothes isn't necessary? Or is Lady Mei Lan only dazzling in silk and brocade?"
A ripple of laughter moved through the onlookers. Mei Lan's pride burned, but she clung to her excuse, bowing low to the Empress. "May I have permission to change into suitable attire, Your Majesty? I would not wish to disrespect the sport."
Bi Lei's eyes gleamed as she delivered her final barb. "Of course. We would all hate to see your performance suffer for lack of perfect costume." Her tone danced on the edge of mockery, but Mei Lan didn't relent.
The Empress waved a hand. "Of course. You may prepare. We will begin shortly."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Mei Lan replied through gritted teeth, her smile brittle. "With the right attire, I'm certain my performance will be all the more impressive."
Bi Lei smirked. "Take your time, Lady Mei Lan. I am sure you will do your best."
Mei Lan swept from the hall, trailing her attendants. Anming followed, silent and watchful.
The changing room erupted in chaos the moment the door closed behind them. Mei Lan's fury could no longer be contained. She seized a delicate porcelain brush pot and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered with a sharp crack. Her hands shook as she swept an array of silk sashes off the dressing table, sending them fluttering to the floor.
"Bi Lei thinks she's so clever!" Mei Lan shouted, voice raw. She kicked over a lacquered stool, its legs scraping loudly across the tiles. "That smug look on her face—she thinks I'm afraid of her! I'll show her! I'll show all of them!"
She grabbed a perfume bottle and threw it hard, glass exploding against the far wall. "And the Empress, acting like I'm some sideshow for her amusement! I'm not useless! I'm not—" Her voice cracked, frustration twisting her features as she slammed her fists onto the vanity, rattling every jar and trinket.
Mei Lan paced in circles, breathing hard, her anger sparking off every surface in the room. She then spun around, locking eyes with Anming, who stood in the corner, mask hiding all but the faint glimmer of cold amusement in his gaze. He watched her tantrum in silence, wondering how a person could burn so hot with so little cause.
Mei Lan stormed up to him, eyes blazing, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You know what's expected. We switch, now. If you dare make me look like a fool out there, I'll have Mother carve up your face, shatter your bones, and drag you off to the filthiest brothel in the capital." She sneered cruelly. "Don't test me, Anming. You know exactly what I'm capable of."
Anming tilted his head, mask hiding his smirk. "Of course, sister. I live only to serve." His voice was honeyed steel.
They stepped behind the folding screen, backs turned, and swapped clothes with practiced efficiency. Mei Lan's hands shook as she tugged at the last knot. "Remember, if you embarrass me, I'll make sure you regret it for the rest of your life."
Anming's fingers paused for a moment as he adjusted the last piece of archery garb, mind already racing ahead. He would not just simply help Mei Lan today, he would etch himself into the 1st prince's memory in a way that could never be erased.
He straightened his clothes, untied the mask from his face, and emerged as the new "Mei Lan." His heart was ice, his mind honed to a blade.
When they returned to the hall, all eyes turned to them. Anming bowed, posture flawless, the picture of serene beauty and composure.
The archery contest began.