Wan Li could not remember the last time she felt her heart beat this quickly.
It had been three days since she overheard the servants whispering breathlessly:
"Third Young Master is returning home."
"After three years!"
"He ranked first in the entire province!"
Since then, the household buzzed with quiet excitement.
Not for her—never for her.
But the air felt charged, as if a long-absent sun was about to rise.
Wan Li held onto those whispers like fragile threads of hope.
She did not know when he would return.
Tomorrow?
Next week?
Today?
She only knew she might see him soon.
And suddenly—
she cared about how she looked.
THE FIRST MORNING
On the first morning after hearing the news, Wan Li shyly approached Su Yan.
"Su Yan… could you help me… braid my hair differently today?"
Her voice was small, embarrassed.
Su Yan paused, eyes softening in instant understanding.
"…Of course, Miss."
She brushed Wan Li's hair until it shone faintly in the late morning sun.
She tied it with a ribbon she'd saved for years.
She straightened Wan Li's sleeves, smoothing every wrinkle.
Wan Li stepped outside, cheeks warm.
She felt… foolish.
But hopeful.
Just a little.
DAY BY DAY — EYES BEGIN TO NOTICE
Day 2
A group of maidservants paused as Wan Li passed.
"Is that… Wan Li?"
"She looks prettier lately…"
"It's because the Third Young Master is coming home."
"She's probably dreaming already."
Wan Li lowered her head quickly, wishing she had a place to hide.
Day 4
Qingling noticed first—her gaze sharp as a knife.
"…Why is she making an effort?"
Qiuhe scoffed. "As if she has a chance."
But something uncomfortable flickered beneath their disdain.
Day 6
Wan Li began waking earlier.
She washed her face twice.
She smoothed her clothes.
She even mended her own torn cuff secretly at night.
Not to look beautiful.
She didn't think she could be that.
Just… presentable.
Just someone he wouldn't immediately dismiss.
She didn't want to be ignored—not by him.
DAYS OF QUIET BLOSSOMING
Wan Li didn't realize she had changed.
But others did.
Her eyes grew gentler.
Her posture straighter.
Her expressions softer, more feminine.
The sisters noticed.
The maids noticed.
Even a passing gardener blinked twice when she walked by.
And envy—sharp, dormant for years—began to stir again.
THE BULLYING TURNS SHARPER
It didn't happen all at once.
It started with:
"Don't think too highly of yourself."
"Prettying up for Third Brother?"
"A toad cannot become a phoenix, no matter how it tries."
Wan Li bowed her head and whispered apologies she didn't owe.
But each passing day, their voices sharpened.
Not constant—just enough to sting.
Enough to make her grip her sleeves harder.
Enough to make her wonder if she should stop trying.
But each morning, she woke up with the same thought:
What if he arrives today?
What if he sees me like this?
And so she tried again.
THE DAY THE LINE WAS CROSSED
Spring sunlight slanted across the courtyard when it happened—warm, bright, full of life.
Wan Li had just finished washing a set of handkerchiefs and was walking back with a bucket of clean water.
Her braid swayed softly behind her.
Her cheeks were flushed from work.
She looked… gentle.
Qiuhe stopped mid-step.
"…She's becoming unbearable."
Qingling said nothing, but her eyes cooled.
Jealousy was a quiet thing—
but once awakened, it demanded an outlet.
The sisters exchanged a glance.
And that was enough.
CONFRONTATION
"Stop right there."
Wan Li froze, gripping her bucket tightly.
Qingling and Qiuhe approached slowly, flanked by two eager maidservants desperate to please them.
Wan Li lowered her head. "G-good morning, Misses."
"Oh please," Qiuhe sneered, circling her. "Look at you. Acting so proper."
Wan Li swallowed. "I—I only wish to look presentable—"
"For Third Brother, right?" Qiuhe snapped.
Wan Li's breath caught.
Her ears flamed.
Her heart thudded wildly.
"I—I don't—dare—"
Qiuhe's voice sharpened with envy she didn't understand.
"You shouldn't."
Qingling's tone was colder.
"You don't belong anywhere near him."
Wan Li hugged the bucket closer to her chest.
"I… I wasn't trying— I just wanted—"
"Enough," Qiuhe said.
"You're getting ahead of yourself."
She grabbed a second bucket—this one filled with dirty gray water used for rinsing mud-stained cloth.
"Let's help her remember her place."
"Please—" Wan Li whispered.
But the bucket tipped.
SPLASH—
Dirty water splashed over Wan Li's head and shoulders.
She gasped, stumbling as cold soaked through her clothes.
Drops slid into her lashes, blurring her world.
Laughter rose from the maids.
Smirks curled on Qingling and Qiuhe's lips.
Wan Li trembled—trying so hard not to collapse completely. Her eyelids lowered, trying not to cry.
Then—
A breathless gasp tore through the courtyard.
A maid near the far archway dropped the folded linens in her arms.
"T–Third Young Master!"
Everything froze.
The laughter.
The whispers.
The movement of the wind itself.
Qingling's head snapped toward the entrance.
Qiuhe's smile vanished instantly.
Wan Li blinked through the dripping grime on her lashes.
Footsteps.
Firm.
Measured.
Approaching steadily.
The butler — who had been escorting the young master from the gate — paled as soon as he registered the soaking-wet girl on the ground.
His voice cracked.
"Young Master… please, forgive the disgrace… This— this is not—"
He bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the stone.
Behind him, Yuan Kezhen's aide stiffened sharply and stepped forward in alarm.
"Young Master, it appears the young mistresses were—"
But he halted midsentence.
Because Kezhen—
did not speak.
He simply stood there.
Tall.
Impossibly composed.
The sunlight outlining his frame like a painting from an old dynasty scroll.
His gaze moved slowly across the scene:
the overturned bucketthe puddle of filthy waterthe trembling girl kneeling in the middle of itQingling and Qiuhe frozen with shock, their skirts nearly dragging on the wet stonesthe maids shrinking behind them
The only sign of Kezhen's reaction—
a slight furrow of his brows.
Almost imperceptible.
But in a house where he was rarely home, rarely emotional, rarely displeased…
that small shift landed like a thunderclap.
The aide swallowed hard.
"Young Master… shall I— shall I discipline them at once?"
The butler scrambled to speak over him:
"Miss Qingling, Miss Qiuhe — please bow immediately! You— you should never behave this way in front of—!"
But neither of the sisters could move.
Their faces turned ashen.
This was their first time seeing their Third Brother in years —
and this was the scene he walked into?
Not tea.
Not greetings.
Not filial embraces.
But bullying.
Cruelty.
Disorder.
And Kezhen's silence made it all ten times worse.
He looked at the sisters — not with anger,
but with the cool, distant disappointment of someone who expected better.
His gaze flicked to the maids — who dropped to their knees instantly.
Then—
His eyes settled on Wan Li.
Not recognizing her.
Not softening.
Not warming.
Just seeing her.
A girl soaked in dirty water.
Shaking.
Small.
Eyes wide and shimmering through her tears.
The aide flinched at that sight and quickly bowed again.
"Young Master, please… allow me to remove these offenders immediately."
Still, Kezhen said nothing.
His expression remained unreadable.
But the slight furrow of his brows stayed—
a mark of quiet disapproval more frightening than raised voices.
And Wan Li…
Wan Li looked up at him as if witnessing the sun for the first time.
Because this—
this poised, elegant, beautiful boy—
the one she had imagined for years,
the one she had hoped would save her,
the one tied to every dream she'd ever had—
had arrived at last.
And he had seen her first.
--
TBC