The winter sun had shifted past noon when Wan Li finished sweeping the side courtyard for the second time that day. Frost lingered along the stone edges, sparkling faintly beneath a sky so bright it made her blink.
Her fingers were stiff from the cold.
Her sleeves were damp.
Her ankles ached.
None of this mattered. She worked because that was what she was told. Because keeping busy made it easier not to think.
Su Yan stood a few steps away, mixing fresh laundry water. She scanned the corridor periodically, her senses sharpened after weeks of watching the household carefully.
It had been quiet since the second son's return that morning.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that meant something was coming.
Wan Li didn't notice.
Wan Li never noticed anything until it was directly in front of her.
FOOTSTEPS
A light, steady rhythm echoed across the stone—unhurried but confident.
Su Yan stiffened. "Miss," she whispered urgently, "stand straight."
Wan Li blinked and straightened instinctively, placing both hands neatly before her.
She saw him then—
Yuan Kewen.
He walked alone this time. No giggling sisters trailing behind him, no servants carrying his belongings. Just a tall young man with his hands casually tucked in his coat pockets, expression relaxed, posture elegant without effort.
He was not wandering.
He was looking.
For her.
Wan Li's breath caught in fear.
She lowered her gaze immediately.
--
KEWEN APPROACHES
Kewen slowed as he neared them, not because of interest, but because he liked to observe things closely. Life was more entertaining when he understood the details.
And she was a detail he hadn't examined yet.
He stopped a polite distance away—not close enough to intimidate her, not far enough to seem dismissive.
"Good afternoon," he said lightly.
Wan Li flinched as if struck.
"G-good afternoon, Young Master," she whispered, bowing too deep for someone of her age. Her braid slid forward, brushing against her shoulder.
Kewen watched her silently for a moment.
She did not raise her head.
Not even slightly.
He had met dozens of girls his age and dozens younger—flirtatious daughters of officials, bold heiresses, clever socialites, pampered debutantes.
This girl?
She bowed like she expected punishment for breathing.
He cleared his throat. "I'm Yuan Kewen."
"Yes, Young Master."
"You've been here for… a while?"
"Y-yes, Young Master."
He waited.
She said nothing more.
His eyebrow twitched.
"…Do you know who I am?"
"Y-yes, Young Master."
Another bow.
Another tremble.
Kewen felt a sigh rising.
This was the imperial princess?
This child?
The girl Mother whispered about with such gravity?
He shifted his weight, growing faintly bored.
"I wanted to see how you were adjusting," he offered, only out of politeness.
Wan Li nodded rapidly. "I… I am grateful to Madam Li. And to the Yuan household. Thank you for allowing me to stay."
Kewen blinked.
Her voice was small.
Too small.
She sounded like she was reciting a memorized script—one rehearsed a hundred times to avoid missteps.
He looked to Su Yan. "Does she always talk like this?"
Su Yan bowed. "Miss Wan Li has been… deeply traumatized, Young Master."
"I can see that."
Wan Li's hands tightened at her front, fingers curling slightly.
She didn't look at him.
Didn't dare.
Kewen studied her more carefully then—not with fascination, but with mild curiosity.
Twelve.
Silent.
Emotionally raw.
Carrying posture drilled into her from birth.
Raised to obey without thought.
A timid bird.
Nothing like the troublesome, ambitious princess he had imagined in childhood stories—princesses who caused wars and shaped destinies.
This one looked like she might cry if someone raised their voice.
He exhaled softly through his nose.
Mother was worrying too much.
--
KEWEN'S ASSESSMENT
"Do you… like it here?" he asked, though he already suspected the answer.
"I… I am grateful," Wan Li whispered again, bowing deeper. "Thank you."
"That wasn't my question."
Wan Li froze.
Her heart thudded hard enough to hurt.
Su Yan stepped subtly closer.
Kewen lifted a hand. "Relax. I'm only asking."
Wan Li swallowed, lips trembling.
"I… do not want to cause trouble."
Another bow.
Another apology that did not answer anything.
Kewen dragged a hand across his forehead.
"She's hopeless," he muttered under his breath—but not unkindly. More like someone admitting defeat in a puzzle.
Then, louder:
"You don't need to bow every time I speak. You'll hurt your neck."
Wan Li stiffened. "Forgive me, Young Master—"
"That's already another bow," Kewen pointed out dryly.
Her cheeks flamed.
Su Yan stepped in gently. "Young Master, Miss Wan Li has been taught strict formalities since birth. It will take time to adjust."
Kewen nodded once.
He understood that much.
He simply didn't find it interesting.
--
QINGLING AND QIUHE WATCH
Not far away, behind a carved screen, two familiar figures lingered:
Qiuhe whispered, "Second Brother looks bored to death."
Qingling smirked. "He looks like he wants to go back to school."
The two conncubine born sisters watched openly. They made no effort to hide their amusement.
Kewen heard them—or at least sensed them—but ignored their buzzing.
He was already losing interest.
He had come to satisfy curiosity.
And that curiosity was now…
Satisfied.
--
END OF THE FIRST ENCOUNTER
"Well," Kewen said at last, dusting his coat sleeve, "I won't keep you from your work."
Wan Li bowed again—too quickly, too deeply.
"Thank you, Young Master. F-forgive my shortcomings…"
"Shortcomings?" He stared blankly. "You answered my questions. That's all."
He didn't wait for a response.
Hands in pockets, he turned and walked away leisurely.
Qingling and Qiuhe slipped aside as he passed, pretending innocence.
Wan Li slowly straightened, breath trembling.
She turned to Su Yan with wide, fearful eyes.
"Did… did I offend him?"
"No, Miss," Su Yan said softly. "You did nothing wrong."
Wan Li swallowed. "He… didn't seem to like me."
Su Yan paused only a second before answering honestly:
"He does not care enough to dislike you."
Wan Li didn't understand.
She simply bowed her head again.
KEWEN, LATER
As he walked toward the main hall, Kewen let out a soft breath.
"That was… underwhelming."
She wasn't arrogant.
She wasn't clingy.
She wasn't proud.
She was barely anything at all.
"Mother worries too much," he muttered.
He stepped inside the hall, shutting the moment firmly behind him.
Wan Li stayed where she was—small, trembling, unnoticed—sweeping frost off the stones as if nothing had changed.
--
TBC