At dawn—before even the sparrows had stirred—the room still held the hush of night. The faint, silver light crept shyly behind silk curtains, casting soft shadows across the chamber.
Mo Chen, the ever-attentive maid, moved quietly to awaken her mistress with the gentlest of touches.
Tao Hua turned lazily in her silken bed, intending to delay the day. But then, a voice—unexpected and thick with sleep—shattered the quiet.
It was Liang Sun Wu, stumbling half-awake, his breath tinged with wine. His voice was muffled, his words slurred:
"Get out of my bed... I really don't like spoiled girls."
The sentence, though born of drunken stupor, struck a nerve in Tao Hua. It was as if a delicate thread in her plan had snapped. She had gambled on playing the weak, tearful girl to gain his sympathy. But it seemed he was immune to such charms.
She rose quickly, avoiding confrontation like a cold wind slipping through a crack. She whispered to his attendant to take care of him, then withdrew silently.
But behind this apparent retreat... she was already thinking.
---
Tao Hua sat later in her private study, surrounded by bamboo scrolls, reading about archery and horseback riding. It was not just a new subject she sought, but a new skin to wear—one that might survive the harsh terrain of this household.
"Mo Chen," she asked softly, "do you think I could become an archer on horseback?"
Her tone was light, but beneath it pulsed a deeper question—a test of her own adaptability, her will to evolve.
Her maid, ever perceptive, replied with certainty:
"Your frame is perfect, your body is strong. Only the old traces of poison linger—but you're fine."
Tao Hua smiled and raised her servant's pay. But it wasn't mere gratitude.
It was a quiet investment in loyalty.
---
Later, Liang Sun Wu returned—sober now, brushing off the last remnants of wine.
He approached Tao Hua, who stood as if she hadn't noticed him enter. Then she turned to face him suddenly, her expression unreadable, scanning his face for any crack of weakness. Instead, she found tension.
He was nervous.
Worried she would report him.
Worried he'd upset his mother—the Empress.
Worried about being scolded again.
He finally sat before her and spoke hesitantly:
"The Emperor... sent us an invitation. Breakfast. Together."
But Tao Hua, with her sharp instincts, sensed otherwise.
This wasn't the Emperor's hand—this was the Empress summoning her.
She seized the moment and shifted the mood with calculated grace. The mask of indifference melted into gentle vulnerability. Her eyes grew wide, her smile uncertain.
"Big brother... I'm afraid to go. You know I've always just been a concubine's daughter..."
He cut her off quickly, almost panicking:
"No no no... Who says that? In two weeks you'll be the wife of the Liang heir."
Inwardly, she smirked:
"A lazy heir... how fortunate."
Yet she quickly returned to her act, adding with perfect softness:
"I know... but I don't think I'm fit for such a role. I'll need help."
He looked flustered, clearly sensing her tears were close. He blurted:
"I'll help you with anything! Just ask."
She smiled inwardly.
Success.
She continued, now cracking the door to a new game:
"I'm terrible at arithmetic... and some writing as well..."
He answered with bumbling sincerity:
"Alright. I'll help... but I'm not good at that either. So we'll have to learn together."
She tilted her head, voice sweet and teasing:
"Then, big brother... shall we start next week?"
He nodded, still hesitant, his heart not quite at ease.
---