Anming's step was light as a feather, his posture flawless, drawing the eyes of every noble as he entered. At his side, the real Mei Lan, now forced into a maid's uniform, fumed with silent fury, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She couldn't wait to see that dumb look on Bi Lei's face when should loses. Her blood boiled but she forced herself to calm down as best as she could. It would be better if Bi Lei just rolled over and died. Then there would be no one left to take her shine and threaten her position.
Well....
There would be one person left. Her eye's coldly scanned the man in front of her that wore her clothes and the same exact face.
Just wait. She thought. When you no longer serve me purpose and I'm finally crown princess, you too will die.
Anming could feel Mei Lan glare on his back and mentally rolled his eyes. Bi Lei was her opponent currently yet she still couldn't forget to also direct her hatred towards him. As if he asked to be in this position. Whatever—it didn't matter.
The archery contest resumed, the assembled nobles watched with breathless anticipation.
Lady Bi Lei stood ready, bow in hand, her expression one of confident challenge. The Empress sat on her dais, lips curved in a faint, expectant smile, while the 1st Prince Haoran lounged beside her, his gaze flicking between the contestants.
Anming, as "Mei Lan", stepped forward, bow in hand. The hush of anticipation made the hall feel smaller, the air charged with possibility. He selected three arrows, weighing each one with a practiced touch. His eyes, were calm and steady.
The first round was almost too easy. Anming nocked the first arrow, drew his arm back, and released, the arrow hitting dead center. The next two followed in a blur, splitting the first with a precision so clean the crowd erupted with admiration. The target, already battered from Bi Lei's earlier performance, now sported a perfect cluster of arrows at its heart.
The real Mei Lan, disguised as a maid, exhaled an air relief, her lips curling into a small, private smile, Anming had listened to her. Inwardly, she celebrated herself, certain that her reputation—her future—was secured by her own "talent." She glanced at Bi Lei's expression and she reveled in it, her smirk grown even bigger under her silk mask. That was a look she could get used to seeing. She truly wanted to see more of it.
The inferiority in Bi Lei's eye's, the doubt, the anger, the embarrassment of being beat by someone she looked down upon.
She deserves it. Mei Lan snorted, the sight was nice but it would be even better if Bi Lei was kneeling before her, begging— pleading. She imagined herself laughing at the sight and taking foot and smashing it into Bi Lei's smug, pretty face.
Indeed Bi Lei was not content with the results of the contest, she couldn't let it end here. She bristled, her pride wounded, her eyes sharp as daggers. Losing was okay for her but losing to someone who couldn't bathe or dress herself without help, made her inside's turn. She couldn't accept, she just couldn't, not when her opponent was Mei Lan.
She turned to the Empress, voice clear and bold, "Your Majesty, hitting a large target is a feat, but not a true test of skill. May we raise the stakes?"
The Empress arched a brow, amused. "What do you propose, Lady Bi Lei?"
Bi Lei moved across the room, her crimson skirts swirling, and paused before the long banquet table. She plucked a bright apple from a golden tray and handed it to her maid without hesitation. "Balance this on your head," she instructed. The maid obeyed, calm and trusting, walking to stand in front of the bullseye.
Without hesitation, Bi Lei took aim, her fingers steady. In a single fluid motion, she released the arrow. It struck right on target, slicing through the apple and pinning it to the target behind. The onlookers gasped, then burst into applause.
Bi Lei inclined her head, satisfaction radiating from her. "Let's see if Lady Mei Lan can match that."
Mei Lan, standing among the servants, stiffened. Her eyes darted to Anming a bit of fear, anxiety, and expectation mingling in her gaze. She'd seen Anming's archery before, but never under such scrutiny.
Anming, still in Mei Lan's guise, looked toward his sister and regarded her with a cold, private smile. The gears in his head were already turning. "It isn't difficult," he murmured, voice low enough for only Mei Lan to hear.
If Bi Lei hadn't suggested to raise the stakes he would've himself. But he knew all too well that Bi Lei would never except that she lost to him: to Mei Lan.
He'd win against Bi Lei again, but this time he'll use her.
He called to the maid on his left, "Three arrows." The girl's hands shook as she obeyed, but Anming's composure was unshakable.
Turning to Mei Lan, his eyes bored into hers intently. "Balance an apple on your head. Stand a hundred paces away. Hold a plum in each hand."
The order was clear and direct. But it was an order he knew would be challenged.
Mei Lan's face contorted severely, her eyes gleaned with doubt and defiance and a bit of panic warring. Just who does Anming suddenly think he is.
She refused, shaking her head. She whispered towards her brother. "You dare try to humiliate me?" Clearly he was. They were in the royal palace, maids were everywhere, theirs, Bi Lei's, the Empress's and the 1st Prince's yet he picked her.
"Do you not trust me sister?" Anming asked, feigning innocence.
She didn't. Not for a second.
"Do not doubt me my sister. I am on your side." he attempted to reassure her but knew it would fall on death's door.
Mei Lan let out a cold cackle that only they could hear. "Do you think me a fool?"
Yes. Anming thought, though his face remained unreadable. His eyes, if one looked closely, brimmed with silent ridicule. He watched as she once again refused and attempted to take a step back from him. "No-"
Anming quickly grabbed her and stopped her in mid action his grip on her arm was heavy and iron like. He bent close, whispering in her ear, "You dare defy the Empress's orders and make a fool of yourself? A fool of us?" His words were laced with coldness and a reminder of their situation. He was Mei Lan now: and she was now a maid. "Your beautiful reputation will be on the line. Would you risk death? It's a capital offense to disobey the Empress."
Her breath caught, fury and fear colliding. She snatched her arm away and stalked to the far end of the hall, grabbing the fruit with trembling hands. The hundred paces felt like a death march. Dressed as a maid, she was invisible to all but the few who truly mattered. If Anming wanted, he could end her right here right now—an "accident," a single arrow, and no one would care. Who would mourn a maid.
Oh, Anming would pay the price for this. She'd make him grovel at her feet when they got home.
She held her chin high, jaw clenched, and positioned herself as commanded: apple balanced, plums in hand, back straight but heart pounding.
Anming drew his bow, the three arrows lined up on the polished wood. The room was utterly silent, all eyes on him. He could feel Mei Lan's terror, the way she tried not to tremble. He could end it now, a swift kill for years of cruelty, but that would be too easy. Too quick.
The revenge, he wanted was a dark and slow one. The type to creep up on you, ever so still yet moving—before you knew it, you were already swallowed whole.
He released the first arrow. It sliced through the apple, sending it flying before pinning it to the bullseye. The crowd gasped, then erupted into applause.
But Anming wasn't finished, he was only getting started.
He drew the final two arrows, notched them together, and aimed for the plums in Mei Lan's hands. His eyes locked onto hers, a wicked smile given for her to clearly see.
Would he use this final act to end his suffering, to kill her?
Mei Lan's fingers shook; she almost dropped the fruit, but fear held her still. She fumed on the inside. You wouldn't dare! The glare in her eyes portrayed her thoughts to him. But Anming's smile only deepened, putting Mei Lan on edge even more.
He wouldn't dare! He wouldn't dare do it!
She tried to silently convince herself. But the look in her brother's eye's said otherwise and her heart dropped. Would today be her last?
The arrows flew, striking the plums with uncanny precision. Mei Lan, shrieked and closed her eyes, stumbling back and collapsing in a heap, fruit tumbling from her grasp. For a heartbeat, the room was silent. Then, as the shock faded, thunderous applause broke out.
Even the Empress's eyes glittered with genuine admiration.
The 1st prince, Haoran, stepped forward, his smile warm and inviting. "Lady Mei Lan, your skills are… extraordinary," he said, voice smooth as velvet. "Such grace, such talent. Truly, the court is fortunate to witness your abilities."
The Empress nodded, clearly pleased. "You have more than proven yourself, Lady Mei Lan. As promised, you may ask a favor of the throne."
All eyes were on Anming. Though Mei Lan had made a fool of herself and she was clearly angry with him he could feel the greed from her gaze boring into him. Her expectation's were clear to him.
He must do what he could to get Mei Lan a step closer to becoming Crown Princess. He could ask for marriage, a title, or a favor that would secure her future. But Anming's lips curled in disdain, he was against the idea.
Instead, he stepped forward, eyes downcast in perfect humility, and plucked a single red plum blossom from a nearby vase. He turned, offering it to the Empress with both hands. "If it pleases Your Majesty, I only wish for you to wear this flower today," he said, voice gentle but unwavering.
The Empress's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you certain? You may ask for almost anything. A marriage, a title, a place at court…"
Anming shook his head. "This is my only wish."
The Empress laughed, delighted. "So be it. I shall wear the blossom with pride." She gestured for the 1st prince to accept the flower. He stepped forward, his fingers deliberately brushing against Anming's as he took the blossom. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. The prince lingered a moment longer than decorum demanded, his gaze thoughtful, before turning to adorn his mother's hair with the blossom.
Compliments poured from every corner of the hall. The Empress preened, her smile radiant, basking in the admiration of the nobles.
She turned her gaze to Anming, "Such talent and humility. Unparalleled—unlike your maid, who nearly caused her own mistress embarrassment today." Her smile faded, replaced by icy authority. "This kind of error cannot go unpunished. Guards, bring the maid forward. Twenty lashes."
Mei Lan, still on her knees, went pale as the guards seized her by the arms. She screamed, panic overwhelming pride, "Your Majesty, please! Forgive me, I beg you! It was my fault—I"
Her pleas were ignored and she was guided to the front and laid down, stomach first, on a high wooden plank.
"Please your Majesty! I know my mistake— Please!"
Her Majesty doesn't relent and tells the guards to hurry, after-all it was her son's birthday. She didn't want to turn such a good thing into something sour because of a mere maid.
No no no no!
In desperation, Mei Lan attempted to blurt out the truth, "No! Please— I am... I am the re—"
Before she could finish that word Anming moved with lightning speed, grabbing her shoulder so hard she winced. His eyes flashed, voice a low, deadly whisper barely above the applause, "Are you mad? Use your brain and think. Reveal yourself now and you'll implicate the entire family. Deceiving the Emperor is a crime that will see nine generations annihilated. Do you want that? You'll never become Crown Princess then." He looked at her as if she lost her head. "Think carefully."
His sister as always was fueled by emotions. But of course he knew this, he had hoped she would be. His future depended on it.
Tears streamed down Mei Lan's face, fury and humiliation burning in her eyes. She bit her tongue, swallowing her confession as the guards dragged her to the center of the hall and Anming moved with.
The Empress's attention shifted to Anming, "Lady Mei Lan, are you feeling sentimental for your maid? I hope you don't intend to beg for leniency."
Mei Lan clung to Anming's sleeve in a final, desperate plea. It broke her inside to have to rely on him, her shadow, for mercy.
Anming looked down at her, his expression unreadable and with a subtle twist, he yanked her grip free. He faced the Empress, bowed gracefully, and offered a smile so brilliant it seemed otherworldly. His eyes brimmed with a deadly coldness, his next words froze the blood in Mei Lan's veins.
"No, Your Majesty. Twenty lashes are well, deserved."
The hall was silent for a moment, then the Empress nodded in approval. "So it shall be."
Mei Lan's screams echoed through the marble hall as the punishment was delivered.
Anming stood motionless, hiding any satisfaction or pity. The nobles watched, some with horror, some with eager curiosity. The 1st prince's gaze lingered on Anming, thoughtful and intrigued.