The grand courtyard of Fengming buzzed with life. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, their red and gold light spilling over the carved wooden pillars. Rows of long tables had been set, filled with finely dressed sons and daughters of generals, captains, and clan leaders, all gathered for the settlement tradition.
Master Lei and Madam Yan sat at the head, welcoming each arrival with measured dignity. Behind them, attendants moved briskly, ensuring every guest was in place. The Bai, Mo, and Qin clans had already arrived, their presence commanding quiet respect.
Qin Yuxi sat with his brother Yijun, his posture composed, eyes sharp as he swept the crowd. Across the hall, Bai Linyan glowed in her pale golden robes, her angelic smile never fading as she charmed those around her.
The air hummed with tension, though no one spoke of it.
Suddenly, a murmur rippled through the gathering—two figures entered from the side entrance.
Yuming walked in first, graceful and composed, her gown catching the lamplight like flowing water. But all eyes quickly shifted to the girl beside her.
Mei'yin.
Gone was the mischievous, untamed look of a girl who preferred climbing trees and chasing birds. With Yuming's hand in hers, Mei'yin stepped into the hall wearing a simple yet elegant dress that framed her figure and brought out the brightness of her eyes. Her hair, usually messy and windswept, had been carefully braided and pinned with delicate ornaments.
The Feng siblings, seated together, nearly dropped their cups.
"Is that… Mei?" Yangguang muttered, jaw slack.
Lingxi narrowed her eyes but smirked. "Hmph. So she finally decided to act like a young lady."
Even Madam Yan's brows lifted in pleasant surprise, while Master Lei gave a faint approving nod.
But Yuxi—his gaze froze the moment he saw her. For a heartbeat, the noise of the hall faded, replaced only by the quiet thrum in his chest.
Mei'yin, sensing his stare, faltered. Her mischievous smile wavered for the first time that night. She quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, cheeks burning.
At that exact moment, Bai Linyan gracefully rose from her seat. With her angelic smile, she glided closer to Yuxi, looping her arm around his as though by instinct, a picture of elegance and claim.
Yuming's lips curled in the faintest smirk, whispering under her breath to Mei'yin:
"Well, let's see how long you'll keep quiet now…"
The drums rolled, echoing through the courtyard. The murmurs of the crowd hushed as Master Lei stood, his commanding presence silencing even the whispers.
"The chosen heirs of each clan, generals, and leaders—step forward and be named," he declared.
One by one, names rang through the hall.
"From Feng—Feng Lingxi, Feng Yangguang."
Lingxi stood with her usual sharp grace, a serious edge in her eyes as she acknowledged the hall. Beside her, Yangguang rose casually, but his gaze slipped toward the crowd, locking on Ms. Ye. A fleeting smirk passed his lips, and though subtle, the older clansmen noticed. Tradition weighed heavy, but so did private ties.
"From Qin—Qin Yijun."
The room stirred. Whispers rippled across the gathering—
"Only Yijun?"
"Where is Yuxi?"
Qin Yuxi remained seated, expression unreadable, his stillness more piercing than any reaction. His name not being called was a deliberate silence, one that raised unspoken questions in everyone's mind.
"From Mo—Mo Yuming."
Yuming stepped forward with elegant composure, chin lifted high, though her eyes flicked briefly to Mei'yin, who gave her a mischievous little nudge.
Finally, "From Bai—Bai Chengxing."
Mei'yin leaned close to Yuming, whispering quickly, "Why not Linyan?"
Yuming's lips pressed thin. "I don't know. I only heard… she was once engaged, but canceled it."
Mei'yin froze, her brows furrowing as her gaze darted toward Bai Linyan, who stood beside Yuxi like an angel in silk. Her angelic smile, her closeness to him—it felt suffocating. Mei's lips curled in a quiet pout, her mind burning.
So she canceled it before? Maybe… she plans to continue it now.
Yuming caught the fire in Mei's eyes, but said nothing more.
The Pairing Tradition
The next phase began. Sons and daughters of generals, captains, and clan leaders were called forward to form lines before the chosen heirs.
The rule was simple: tonight, bonds would be settled, alliances formed—not always marriages, but pairings for power, influence, and legacy.
Yuming stepped back slightly from the crowd, preferring distance. But no sooner had she done so than a tall young man—a general's son—strode toward her confidently.
"Lady Mo," he said, bowing slightly.
Yuming's face twisted instantly into a flat, annoyed look. She shifted sideways, her expression making it abundantly clear: she had no interest. Her eyes darted around, as if searching for an escape.
Meanwhile, across the hall, Mei'yin's attention refused to leave Yuxi. She forced a mischievous smile on her face, but inside her chest was tight, her thoughts repeating with a dangerous sharpness:
I want to get rid of her.
Her gaze cut to Bai Linyan, whose hand lingered just a little too gracefully near Yuxi's sleeve.
And Yuxi—though his posture remained calm, his eyes had flicked more than once toward the mischievous girl who burned quietly from the sidelines.
While the hall bustled with names and pairings, Feng Xiaoyan had stepped slightly aside, her composure flawless, her robes flowing like calm waters. She sipped tea from a small porcelain cup, her eyes quietly watching over her siblings.
Beside her, Ms. Ye, the quiet doctor of Master Lei, lingered near one of the pillars, her posture reserved but her gaze fixed—not on the crowd, not on the event, but on Yangguang.
Xiaoyan caught it immediately.
Her eyes, sharp and knowing, flicked toward Ms. Ye. A faint, sly smile tugged at her lips. "Your eyes betray you."
Ms. Ye startled, her cheeks coloring faintly. "Lady Xiaoyan—I… was only observing the proceedings."
Xiaoyan tilted her head, watching her brother across the hall, where Yangguang was casually smirking at one of the daughters of a general who tried to line before him. His lazy confidence drew attention, but it was obvious—his glance slipped often toward Ms. Ye.
"You don't have to lie to me," Xiaoyan said softly, her tone not harsh but amused, the way only an older sister could be. "I've known my brother since the day he was born. He is careless with most things, but when his eyes linger—he means it."
Ms. Ye's hands tightened slightly around her sleeve. "…It is not proper. The family traditions—"
"Tradition," Xiaoyan interrupted smoothly, "is heavy. But affection is heavier." Her gaze softened, though her voice carried quiet steel. "If you care for him, you should not look away. Do not let the weight of rules rob you of a bond already there."
Ms. Ye's lips parted, but words faltered on her tongue. Her heart hammered, caught between duty and desire.
Across the room, Yangguang glanced again in their direction—this time, his smirk softened for a heartbeat, something gentler flickering in his eyes.
Xiaoyan's smile widened knowingly as she set down her teacup. "See? Even in a hall full of daughters dressed for tradition… his eyes are only on you."
Ms. Ye flushed deeper, lowering her gaze, her composure crumbling under Xiaoyan's pointed truth.
Feng Lingxi, her posture tall and commanding in her deep-green robes, stood apart from the younger girls giggling nervously. Her eyes, cool and calculating, scanned the crowd with thinly veiled disdain.
Her gaze lingered on the stage, where her name had already been announced alongside Yangguang's. Her lips pressed into a faint line—tradition or not, she loathed being treated like a piece in her family's game.
"Lady Lingxi."
The voice was low, smooth, and steady.
She turned, startled only slightly, to find Qin Yijun standing nearby. His silver-trimmed robes caught the light, but his composure was as still as stone. He inclined his head politely.
"You don't seem pleased," Yijun remarked, his tone neutral but edged with observation.
Lingxi arched a brow. "Pleased? To be paraded in front of strangers like cattle in a market?" She gave a dry laugh. "No, Young Master Qin, I am not pleased."
A faint flicker crossed Yijun's eyes—interest, perhaps, or amusement. "You speak boldly."
"I speak truth," she retorted, arms folding. Her sharp gaze challenged him. "But of course, the Qin heir would not understand. Your family does not parade you—you are the one others are paraded for."
Her words cut, but Yijun didn't flinch. Instead, his calm expression softened, almost imperceptibly. "And yet… you stand here, despite your disdain."
Lingxi's lips pressed thin, but she didn't deny it. "…It is my duty."
Silence stretched. Then Yijun stepped closer—not invading, but near enough for his voice to drop low, meant only for her.
"Duty binds us all. But it does not silence us." His eyes, sharp and steady, held hers with quiet weight. "Speak boldly, Lady Feng. Even if no one listens, even if they mock you—speak. A voice like yours should not be buried."
Lingxi's breath caught, her usual retort faltering on her tongue. His words—unexpectedly earnest—cut deeper than she expected.
For the first time, she found herself truly looking at Qin Yijun, not just the perfect heir cloaked in composure, but the man behind it.
She recovered quickly, masking the flutter in her chest with a scoff. "You say dangerous things, Young Master Qin. Careful, or people will start to think you admire me."
Yijun's lips curved—subtle, almost invisible, but unmistakably there. "Perhaps they would not be wrong."
Her heart skipped, but she turned sharply, refusing to let him see her fluster. "Hmph."
Still, as she walked away, her steps betrayed the faintest hesitation—her composure cracking under the quiet storm his words had left behind.
Mei'yin, restless and already annoyed by the formality, leaned closer to Yuming. Her sharp eyes darted across the floor—and froze.
Not far away, Bai Linyan had inched nearer to Qin Yuxi, her expression calm but her presence unshakable. Yuxi, as usual, seemed composed and distant, though his subtle nods acknowledged Linyan's words.
Mei'yin's fists clenched at her sides.
"She's doing it again," she muttered, her voice sharp. "As if she owns the place. As if she owns him."
Yuming, ever the mediator, touched her arm. "Don't—"
But Mei'yin was already moving, slipping through the small crowd until she stood before them. Her tone carried the sweetness of courtesy, but her eyes burned.
"Quite bold of you, Lady Bai," Mei'yin said smoothly, though her voice was laced with venom. "Clinging so close to someone already promised."
Bai Linyan blinked, visibly taken aback. "Promised?" Her voice was soft, confused. "I don't know what you mean."
Mei'yin's smile turned sharp. "Of course you don't."
For a moment, the two young women stared each other down, voices low enough not to draw too much attention, but every word cut like glass.
"You think ill of me without cause," Linyan replied at last, her confusion genuine. "I only spoke to Young Master Qin as courtesy demands."
"Courtesy?" Mei'yin scoffed. "You're far too comfortable for courtesy."
Before the air could tighten further, a mocking laugh sliced between them.
"Well, well," came the arrogant drawl. "The Feng girl baring her claws again."
Bai Chengxing, dressed in robes of deep crimson, strode toward them with the confidence of a man who believed the world revolved around his name. His smirk widened as he looked Mei'yin up and down.
"How amusing," he sneered. "A little bird squawking over things far beyond her reach. Tell me, Mei'yin, do you think loud words make you worthy?"
Mei'yin's jaw tightened, fury rising hot in her chest. Yuming, who had slipped to her side, shot Chengxing a glare that could cut stone.
"Better a bird with claws," Yuming said coldly, "than a dog that barks without thought."
Chengxing's smile darkened, but the tension in the air had already drawn a few cautious glances from nearby guests. Still, none dared step in—this was the kind of storm best left to the young to settle.
"I won't hide it anymore!" Her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes glistening with defiance and pain. "I am engaged to Qin Yuxi!"
Gasps erupted. Heads turned. Even the music faltered.
The Bai siblings stiffened, shock flashing across their faces. Bai Chengxing's mocking smirk froze before returning, colder, sharper, like a blade savoring blood.
Mei'yin's lips curled into a bitter smile as she locked eyes with Bai Linyan. "So stay away from him. You want to know why your last fiancé abandoned you?" Her voice wavered, heavy with restrained fury. "It's because of you—your pride, your arrogance. That's why you were left alone."
The words cut like knives.
Linyan's breath hitched. Her mask of elegance shattered, her lips trembling before she forced them still. For a heartbeat she was silent, her eyes shimmering under the lantern light. Then her voice cracked—soft, raw.
"Is that it?" she whispered, her gaze darting desperately toward Yuxi. "Is Mei'yin the reason you forgot me? The reason you erased… us?"
Her voice broke. The weight of unspoken history hung between them.
Mei'yin's chest tightened. She staggered a step, her throat burning as she turned sharply toward Yuming. Her eyes begged for denial, for mercy.
"Yuming… tell me." Her voice trembled, heavy with dread. "The girl you told me about—the one who was Yuxi's first love, his first heartbreak… it's Linyan?"
The silence was unbearable. Yuming's lips parted, but she looked away.
And in that moment, Mei'yin knew.
Her knees felt weak, her breath catching like shards in her chest. Her mischievous smile—her mask—crumbled. The tears she fought against welled too fast, too hot. Her heart screamed, but her voice was barely a whisper.
"So it's true…"
The room seemed to blur, voices turning into distant echoes. The stares burned her, the whispers sliced deeper than swords.
She wanted to fight back, to hurl more cruel words at Linyan, to protect her heart with anger. But her voice broke, choked by grief.
With a strangled cry, Mei'yin turned and ran.
Her robes swept the marble floor as she fled the hall, the heavy doors crashing shut behind her. The silence left in her wake was deafening—broken only by Linyan's trembling breath and Yuxi's unbearable silence, his lips parted but no words coming out.
The hall was left frozen—watching a truth that had finally torn three hearts apart.
The echo of Mei'yin's footsteps faded into the night, leaving the hall suffocatingly quiet. The heavy doors still swayed on their hinges, as if mourning her departure.
Yuxi stood frozen.
His chest tightened, his throat dry, words clawing upward but dying before they left his lips. He stared at the door, at the path Mei'yin had taken, as though sheer will could bring her back.
"Yuxi…"
Linyan's soft voice trembled beside him, fragile and aching. She reached out, her hand hovering, not quite touching his sleeve. "Say something. Anything. Did you truly forget me so easily?"
His jaw clenched. He forced himself to meet her gaze, and for the first time that night, the icy composure cracked. Behind his calm eyes was a storm—regret, guilt, a fear he couldn't name.
"I didn't…" His voice was hoarse. He swallowed hard. "I just used to it, used for not having you around."
The hall stirred at those words. Murmurs rippled.
But Yuxi's gaze fell back to the doors, his heart pulled in two directions. Linyan's presence—an old wound reopening. Mei'yin's retreat—fresh pain cutting deeper.
He dragged a hand through his hair, his breathing uneven. "But this… this isn't how she should've found out." His voice shook, low but clear enough to silence the whispers. "Not like this."
Linyan flinched, her eyes dimming.
Yijun rose, placing his teacup down with deliberate calm, though his gaze sharpened. "You should go after her, Yuxi."
Yuxi turned slightly, torn. His brother's words echoed what his heart already screamed. But his feet felt bound by invisible chains—by duty, by guilt, by the eyes of everyone watching.
Still… his decision flickered in his eyes. The storm within him could no longer be contained.
With a final glance at Linyan—pained, apologetic, but resolute—Yuxi strode toward the doors, his robe sweeping like a restless wind.
And in that instant, everyone understood.
He would chase after Mei'yin.
No matter what past or tradition stood in his way.
The night air outside Fengming's hall was cool, but Mei'yin's cheeks burned as if aflame. She stumbled across the stone path, vision blurred by tears she refused to let fall.
Her chest ached. Each breath came sharp, shallow.
So it was true…
"A'yin!"
The voice cut through the silence, urgent and rough. She froze. Her grip on her dress tightened, but she didn't turn.
Footsteps followed—quick, heavy, desperate. A moment later, Yuxi stood before her, slightly out of breath. His eyes searched hers, fierce yet unsteady.
"Don't run from me." His words were quiet but edged with plea.
Mei'yin lifted her gaze, and for the first time, he saw her tears glistening in the moonlight. Her voice cracked, sharp with hurt.
"Why didn't you tell me, Yuxi? Why let me stand there like a fool, when everyone else knew?"
He flinched, the truth in her voice cutting deeper than any blade. "It wasn't like that. I—"
"You what?" She stepped back, her trembling hands balling into fists. "You said you wouldn't cancel our engagement. You said those words to me, and I… I believed you. But all this time—" Her voice broke. "All this time, was I just a replacement?"
The words hung heavy.
Yuxi's face tightened, anguish flickering across his usually calm features. He took a step closer, his voice low, raw. "No. Never. You're not a replacement."
"Then what am I?" Her eyes locked on his, shimmering with pain. "Because standing there tonight, hearing her speak of your past… it felt like I was nothing."
Silence stretched, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind.
Yuxi's hand lifted, hesitated, then gently brushed the corner of her cheek. His touch lingered, tender yet trembling.
"You're the one who made me want a future, Mei'yin." His voice quivered, stripped bare. "The past—Linyan—it was a mistake, a wound that never healed. But you… you're the only one I don't want to lose."
Mei'yin's lips parted, her heart lurching, but doubt still clung. She stepped back, shaking her head, tears spilling at last.
Yuxi stood motionless, his hands trembling at his sides, as the girl he could not bear to lose walked away under the pale light of the moon.