Chapter One — The Arrival of the Tutor
The morning the tutor arrived, the manor was chaos.
Servants rushed through the courtyards like startled birds — someone had spilled ink on the veranda, another dropped a tray of tea meant for Lord Wen, and the eldest daughter was screaming at a seamstress because her new hairpin didn't shine enough.
Li Hua watched it all from the balcony, half amused, half bored. She was supposed to be reading, but the scroll in her lap had turned into a pillow for her chin.
She hated mornings like this. They smelled like polished floors and obedience.
From below, her mother's sharp voice cut through the air. "Li Hua! You will greet the new tutor properly, do you hear me?"
"Yes, Mother," she said, though her tone made it sound like absolutely not.
She stood anyway, smoothed her robe, and tried to appear like the noble daughter she was supposed to be. The sun was too bright, the air too still — it made everything feel rehearsed, fake.
Then the tutor appeared at the gate.
The servants whispered immediately. "So young!" "Too thin for a scholar." "Is he really from the capital?"
He was dressed plainly — gray robes, hair tied neatly beneath a scholar's crown, a travel satchel slung across his shoulder. There was dust on his boots, but his posture was graceful, his expression unreadable.
Lord Wen stepped forward, stern and proper. "Master Shen. We are honored."
The tutor bowed. "The honor is mine, my lord." His voice was low, smooth, but… there was something off. Too soft. Too careful.
Li Hua's curiosity stirred like a restless bird.
When their eyes met — just for a moment — the tutor's gaze faltered, almost startled. He looked away first.
Strange, she thought. Why does he look like he's hiding something?
"Li Hua," her father said, dragging her forward. "You will learn discipline from Master Shen. No more poetry about rebels or dreams of travel. You will study what a daughter of this house must know."
She bowed reluctantly. "Yes, Father."
Master Shen bowed back, polite, distant. "I look forward to our lessons."
But later, when he followed a servant through the courtyard toward his new quarters, Li Hua caught him glancing up at the willow tree near the pond — her favorite place. His eyes softened, almost wistful.
That night, as thunder rolled in the distance, Li Hua wandered past the study to peek at her new tutor.
The door was half open. Candlelight spilled across a desk scattered with scrolls. He was sitting there, shoulders tense, a piece of parchment in hand.
Then she saw it — a small cut across his palm, fresh and still bleeding. He hissed quietly, reached for a cloth… and unwrapped his wrist just enough for Li Hua to glimpse the pale curve of his arm — delicate, smooth.
Her breath caught.
It wasn't what she expected to see from a man's body.
And for the first time that day, the chaos of the household didn't feel like noise — it felt like the start of something dangerous.