Chapter 4: The Royal Ball of Deception
The Shen residence glittered with excitement the morning the imperial invitation arrived. A scroll of crimson silk, sealed with gold, bearing the imperial crest — a summons none could refuse.
> By decree of His Majesty, all noble families are invited to the royal ball celebrating the engagement of His Highness, the Third Prince Rui Feng, and Lady Shen Rou.
Shen Lian gasped in delight, clasping her hands dramatically. "The palace itself! Oh, Rou, you'll be the most admired woman tonight!"
Shen Rou smiled sweetly, but her gaze flicked toward Shen Yifan, standing silently beside their grandmother. "It's such a pity some people don't know how to let go of the past," she said softly, feigning concern.
Mira — Yifan — only bowed her head slightly. "The past is not a chain," she said, "unless you choose to drag it."
Her calm voice silenced the room for a heartbeat.
Grandmother Shen smiled faintly. "Well said. You'll attend, Yifan. It's time the world sees your grace."
And so she did.
---
✨ The Palace Ball
That evening, the imperial palace was a vision of splendor — golden lanterns hung like stars, silken banners fluttered with every breeze, and music from a hundred strings filled the air. Nobles gathered in glittering clusters, laughter and whispers weaving through the grand hall.
When the Shen family arrived, all eyes turned.
Shen Rou stepped forward first, radiant in crimson silk and phoenix ornaments — the future bride of a prince. Shen Lian followed, her smile sharp.
And then came Shen Yifan, clad in flowing silver robes, her hair pinned with a single white jade flower. She did not shine — she glowed, calm and ethereal, untouched by vanity.
Yet whispers began.
"Isn't that the one the Third Prince cast aside?"
"Poor thing. Imagine attending his engagement."
"She must be desperate for attention."
She heard every word — and smiled softly.
---
At the front of the hall, Prince Rui Feng stood with his usual smirk, dressed in royal blue. His arm rested lightly on Shen Rou's as courtiers offered their congratulations.
When his eyes found Yifan across the crowd, amusement flickered in his gaze. He approached, drink in hand.
"Well, if it isn't my former fiancée," he drawled, bowing mockingly. "Tell me, Lady Shen, are you here to wish me joy… or to regret your loss?"
She looked at him evenly. "Your Highness, you mistake me. One cannot regret what was never truly theirs."
His smirk faltered — briefly. Then Shen Rou slipped to his side, smiling prettily. "Sister, don't be bitter. His Highness is simply being polite."
Yifan inclined her head. "Of course. Politeness is often mistaken for sincerity."
That single line sent a ripple of laughter through nearby guests. Shen Rou's smile froze. Rui Feng's eyes darkened — but he turned away with forced ease.
---
🍷 The Plot
As the evening deepened, nobles danced and dined. Yet in the shadows, Shen Lian and a young noblewoman whispered behind a jeweled fan.
"She still dares to stand tall," Shen Lian hissed. "Let's see how long that poise lasts."
Moments later, as Yifan reached for a cup of wine, a servant brushed past — bumping her wrist. The cup slipped, crashing against a nobleman's sleeve, staining it crimson.
Gasps. Whispers.
"How clumsy!" someone cried.
"Such poor manners!" another sneered.
The noble turned, scowling. "Lady Shen, do you take pleasure in ruining my robes before His Majesty?"
Yifan bowed deeply. "My apologies, my lord. Allow me—"
"Enough," a calm voice cut through the noise.
Every head turned.
Crown Prince Li Wei stood near the dais, eyes steady, silver hair glinting under the lantern light.
"The Lady is not at fault," he said, tone even but cold. "I saw the servant push past her. Shall we punish an innocent woman for another's misstep?"
The noble paled. "Y-Your Highness, I— I didn't see—"
Li Wei's gaze sharpened. "Then you should learn to see before you speak."
Silence fell. Yifan lifted her eyes briefly — meeting his. Calm, unreadable, yet something in that gaze stirred a warmth in her chest.
She lowered her head. "Your Highness, thank you."
He nodded once. "Justice requires no thanks."
---
Later, the Emperor called for a final dance.
Shen Rou beamed as Rui Feng led her to the floor, spinning her with showy arrogance.
Then Li Wei approached Yifan, offering his hand with quiet courtesy. "Lady Shen."
Her breath caught — but she took his hand.
The music slowed. They moved together in perfect rhythm, silent, eyes meeting only once — yet that glance spoke more than words could.
When the song ended, he released her hand gently, a faint, almost wistful look in his eyes.
---
As fireworks bloomed beyond the palace walls, Yifan stepped out into the courtyard to breathe. The night was cool, the air fragrant with peonies.
A soft rustle behind her — she turned. A masked servant bowed low, slipping a folded note into her hand before vanishing into the crowd.
She unfolded it slowly.
> They will come for you. Do not trust your blood.
Her eyes hardened. She looked up at the brilliant sky, the bursts of gold and red.
"Then let them come," she whispered. "This time, the prey will not run."
Across the courtyard, Li Wei stood watching from a distance — unreadable, yet unable to look away.
The dance of fate had begun.