Spring's blossoms were in full bloom when the Hua family hosted another gathering. Aristocrats, merchants, and scholars filled the courtyard with laughter and silk rustles.
Hua Lian walked gracefully, her hair pinned simply, her robes elegant but not gaudy. Compared to the jeweled extravagance of her cousin Hua Mei, she seemed like a quiet lotus in the pond.
But beneath that still surface, the water churned.
Hua Mei had long been weaving her reputation as the "perfect young lady" — kind, generous, accomplished. In Hua Lian's last life, this very image had won her endless praise, while Hua Lian was mocked as useless.
This time, Hua Lian would reveal the cracks.
With Yin Chen's help, rumors were spread subtly: that Hua Mei had composed a new poem to present at the gathering. Everyone was eager to hear it.
But the poem Hua Mei had prepared was not hers at all. Hua Lian knew — in her last life, she had overheard Shen Wei whisper that Hua Mei often *bought verses from struggling scholars.* Now, with Shen Wei himself on her side, the truth would come to light.
"Cousin Mei," one noblewoman smiled, "I've heard you've written a poem worthy of the spring blossoms. Won't you honor us with it?"
Hua Mei's eyes glimmered with pride. She stood gracefully, reciting the flowing verses, her voice delicate as falling petals. The guests applauded with admiration.
Just as she was about to sit, Hua Lian's soft voice carried across the hall.
"Cousin Mei's poem… how elegant. Though I wonder…"
All heads turned.
Hua Lian tilted her head innocently, her lips curving slightly.
"…why it matches word for word the verses written by Scholar Yun, found in last month's literary journal?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Shen Wei, sitting quietly among the guests, stood and bowed.
"I am Shen Wei, copyist at Master Yun's shop. The young miss speaks true — those verses were published weeks ago."
Faces turned pale. Whispers grew.
"Did Hua Mei steal another's work?"
"Such deceit, from the so-called jewel of the Hua family?"
Hua Mei's smile froze. Panic flared in her eyes. She stammered excuses, but the murmurs only grew harsher.
Second Aunt's expression darkened. Even if she believed her daughter, doubt had already rooted itself in the hearts of the guests.
And Hua Lian? She simply lowered her lashes, sipping her tea like a quiet observer. Not a word of accusation, no anger — only a gentle reminder that left Hua Mei's mask cracked.
That night, when Hua Mei stormed into her chambers, fury burning in her eyes, Hua Lian met her gaze calmly.
"Cousin, you should be more careful. Lies are like silk threads — once tugged, the whole weave unravels."
Hua Mei clenched her fists, trembling with rage.
"You… you'll regret this, Hua Lian."
But Hua Lian only smiled. In my last life, I regretted. This time… it will be you.