The capital was alive that morning — full of color, noise, and the shimmer of silk banners waving in the breeze.
Cherry petals floated down from the trees that lined the avenue leading to the City Hall, where the most anticipated event of the year was about to begin: the Spring Exhibition of the Mei Atelier — designed and hosted by none other than Mei Ren, the kingdom's most celebrated designer.
Beside him walked Lady An Ruo, soon-to-be Empress, elegant even in simplicity, her soft laughter carrying like a bell.
And behind them, quiet but radiant, was Mei Lian, her younger sisterly presence glowing like the calm moon beside the sun.
---
The City Hall glimmered with gold filigree and towering pillars.
Inside, nobles and court ladies filled the grand hall, fans fluttering, voices murmuring in excitement.
When the first model walked the central platform draped in silk woven with silver clouds, a collective gasp spread through the hall.
Each design that followed — gowns embroidered with lotus blooms, phoenix feathers, and falling snow — drew more praise.
> "The craftsmanship is divine!" one noblewoman whispered.
"Truly the House of Mei is unmatched."
Mei Lian watched her brother standing proudly beside the display, his eyes bright as light spilled over the silks.
A faint smile touched her lips. In my past life, she thought, I never came to this showcase. I was too busy chasing the Crown Prince.
Now she saw what she had missed — her brother's genius, his pride, the beauty he gave to the world.
The applause rose to a crescendo as the final piece was revealed — a flowing white robe embroidered with cranes soaring among clouds, a piece made for the future Empress herself.
Lady An turned to Mei Lian, her eyes sparkling. "He's amazing, isn't he?"
"He always was," Mei Lian said softly.
---
When the showcase ended, the three left the hall together, stepping into the lively city streets.
The stalls were bursting with color — lanterns, ribbons, roasted chestnuts, sugar paintings of dragons and butterflies.
Mei Ren laughed as he spotted a food vendor. "Come, both of you — all these nobles may praise my art, but only roasted dumplings can fill the stomach of a true artist."
An Ruo giggled, following eagerly. "You and your obsession with street food!"
Mei Lian smiled faintly, her heart light. It had been so long since she had walked through the market with them like this — in her last life, she had forgotten how laughter sounded.
The three of them sat by a small stall near the bridge, eating steaming buns filled with meat and herbs.
"It's delicious!" An Ruo said, her cheeks pink.
"Of course," Mei Ren said proudly. "The people's food always tastes better than the palace's gold."
Mei Lian looked around quietly — at the laughter, the scent of spices, the clatter of vendors — and felt something in her chest ease.
This is what life should have been, she thought. Not endless schemes, not burning ambition, just… peace.
---
As they walked, they came upon a group of traveling performers setting up for a street play.
A small crowd gathered as the actors began their story — of a poor scholar, a warrior maiden, and a love that defied fate.
Children clapped. Women smiled behind their fans.
Mei Ren and An Ruo watched with interest, but Mei Lian's mind drifted.
Her gaze lingered on a small apothecary stall nearby, its shelves lined with jars of dried herbs, roots, and powdered medicines.
For a moment, she stood frozen. The familiar scent of mint and camphor brought back a flood of memories — of her maternal grandfather, a respected healer in the southern provinces.
He had once taught her everything about herbs, pulse, and medicine.
Her hands had been steady, her memory sharp — he had said she had talent rare for her age.
> "You are born with gentle hands, Lian'er," her grandfather used to say. "Hands meant to heal."
But she had been young, vain, and foolish — too proud to be known as the healer's granddaughter when she wanted to be a princess instead.
And so I abandoned his teachings… and him, she thought bitterly.
Now, looking at the familiar bundles of herbs, something inside her stirred — a quiet, steady flame.
"This time," she whispered to herself, "I won't waste the gift he gave me."
---
As the play ended, a cheer rose from the crowd.
An Ruo clapped her hands joyfully, and Mei Ren laughed, handing his sister a small sugar butterfly he'd bought while she was lost in thought.
"For you, my serious little lotus," he teased. "You've been quiet all day."
She smiled faintly, taking it. "I was just… remembering my grandfather."
He arched a brow. "The healer? You used to hate those lessons."
"I did," she admitted softly. "But perhaps I was too young to understand their worth."
He grinned. "Well, at least you're wiser now."
Mei Lian looked up at the drifting petals, her voice quiet but firm.
"Wiser… and ready to change."
---
The breeze carried petals across the street, brushing against their faces.
For a moment, the three of them stood there — laughing, talking, alive — unaware of how quickly fate would turn again.
Far away, behind palace walls, a young Crown Prince prepared for the spring banquet… unaware that the girl whose heart he once destroyed was about to rewrite both their destinies.
—