Preparations for the palace selection had turned the estate into a hive of restless activity.
The garden paths were swept clean, the training maids scurried back and forth with trays of silks and paints, and the fragrance of powdered incense clung to every corner.
Shen Lian walked through it all with a calm expression, her every step measured.
Today was the first official "presentation rehearsal." Ladies from nearby noble households would attend, as a mock trial before the real selection.
And Shen Yue would shine—because Shen Lian intended her to.
She arrived in the dressing pavilion where two maids were arranging hair ornaments. Shen Yue sat in front of the mirror, looking like a fresh blossom. Her lips were tinted rose, her sleeves embroidered with cranes.
"You look lovely," Shen Lian said as she entered.
Shen Yue glanced at her reflection, then turned with a bashful smile. "Sister is always so kind."
"I've laid out your poem scroll on the lacquer table. The calligraphy master added gold flourishes."
"I… thank you."
Shen Lian stepped behind her, adjusting a strand of hair. "Remember: hold your fan so the right side of your face shows. The light catches better there."
Shen Yue blinked. "How do you know that?"
Shen Lian smiled into the mirror. "Because last time, I didn't."
By noon, guests were arriving. The garden had been transformed into a stage—tea tables, floral screens, and a shallow pool of floating petals.
The young ladies took turns reciting poetry, demonstrating embroidery, and playing guqin.
When Shen Yue stepped forward, the crowd murmured in approval. She bowed perfectly, recited with gentle cadence, and smiled with practiced shyness.
Whispers began immediately.
"Prime Minister's second daughter?"
"So elegant…"
Shen Lian stood under the plum tree, watching it unfold. Her lips curved.
Let them notice her. Let them remember her.
Because when Shen Yue falls, the whole court will be watching.