The market was alive with laughter and song.
Vendors shouted their wares from every corner — roasted chestnuts, silk ribbons, carved combs, jade bangles that caught the light like frozen fire. The air smelled of sugar and sandalwood, of burning oil lamps and steamed buns.
It was a bright, bustling day — but Lian Ruo's mind was nowhere near it.
He walked beside his cousins, arms full of parcels, face lost somewhere between a smile and silence.
Lian Hua darted ahead, dragging her sister, the Empress Lian An, toward a jewelry stall where strings of pearls swayed in the sun like droplets of rain. They were laughing, bargaining with the merchant over a set of hairpins.
And yet Lian Ruo heard none of it.
The sound of the market blurred into a distant hum — his thoughts were far away, replaying the moment in the narrow alley from the night before.
The moment she had appeared.
The moment she had run into his arms, her voice breaking with longing.
