Wan Li scarcely slept.
All night her heart fluttered in uneven beats, like a frightened bird refusing to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the scene again—
The dirty water splashing across her clothes.
Her knees hitting stone.
The laughter around her.
Her shame burning like fire.
And then—
A shadow falling over her.
A voice gentle but firm:
"Stand."
Just one word.
But in her fragile heart, it sounded like rescue.
Like protection.
Like destiny.
She pressed the back of her hand to her lips under the thin quilt, cheeks heating at the memory.
He spoke to me.
He saw me.
It was ridiculous, childish, embarrassing—but Wan Li had never been looked at with gentleness by any man. Her father died when she was too young to remember. Li Shan frightened her. Male officials ignored her. Even the palace guards intimidated her.
But yesterday…
Yesterday she had been helpless, ruined, crying—and someone stepped forward. Someone powerful. Someone tall. Someone who didn't look at her with disdain.
Someone who said:
Stand.
Like she was worth standing.
Her heart squeezed painfully.
I must thank him.
It was the first decision she had ever made on her own.
THE NEXT MORNING
The early courtyard was washed with pale spring light. Servants hurried across the stone paths carrying baskets of vegetables and pails of water. The household was already awake, but Wan Li was earlier still.
She had risen before dawn.
She combed her hair twice. Then three times.
She tried a ribbon. Removed it. Tried a different one.
She pinched her cheeks lightly to bring color.
She smoothed her dress again and again, even though it was the same plain cotton she always wore.
"Miss," Su Yan whispered, confused. "You… rarely get up before me."
Wan Li's fingers froze on her braid.
"Yesterday… I… I must thank Young Master Kezhen."
Su Yan blinked.
Wan Li had never voluntarily approached any man before. She trembled even in front of butlers.
"Miss… are you sure… he wishes to be approached?"
Wan Li hesitated.
Her courage shriveled and blossomed all at once.
"I–I only want… to thank him properly."
Her mother taught her etiquette.
Her teachers taught her grace.
She knew how to behave in front of elders.
But none of that mattered now, because—
She was terrified.
Terrified of saying the wrong thing.
Terrified of displeasing him.
Terrified of him ignoring her.
Yet she could not stay still.
If he returns to Shanghai and I never thank him… will he forget me?
That thought made her heart ache so sharply she pressed a hand to her chest.
Su Yan studied her closely.
There was something different in Wan Li's eyes today—
something soft, shining, trembling.
Hope.
Su Yan's expression softened painfully.
"Very well, Miss," she whispered. "Let us wait where he may pass."
WAITING
Wan Li stood under the bare-limbed plum tree near the east corridor—the one path all young masters used when heading toward Madam Li's wing or the main hall.
She twisted her fingers together nervously.
"What if he doesn't pass here?"
"He should," Su Yan said. "Etiquette demand that he greets Madam Li before breakfast."
Wan Li nodded, breath shallow.
Her heartbeat thundered at every approaching footstep.
Every voice.
Every flicker of movement.
But each time, it was not him.
She felt foolish.
Then anxious.
Then scared.
What if he had already left?
What if he didn't want to see anyone?
What if he had no memory of yesterday?
She tried to steady her hands.
Maybe he didn't even notice my face properly…
Maybe he simply reacted to injustice…
Maybe it meant nothing to him…
But… but he helped me.
Wan Li's eyes lowered.
Her lips trembled.
She clung to the one small truth she had:
He could have walked away.
Ignored her.
Pretended not to see.
But he didn't.
--
THE MOMENT
Voices floated from the distance.
"Young Master Kezhen is heading this way—"
Wan Li's breath stopped.
Her heart lurched violently.
Then he appeared—
Tall, straight-backed, walking briskly with the elegance of someone raised on discipline. He wore a crisp winter coat today, charcoal gray, collar high, hair smoothed neatly. His profile was striking—sharp lines, long lashes, calm eyes.
He was—
beautiful.
Wan Li's breath caught.
She had seen him yesterday—only for a fleeting moment—but standing before him now…
Three years of imagining could not prepare her for the reality.
He wasn't simply handsome.
He carried a quiet authority, the kind etched into old palace portraits of princes and scholar-officials—an elegance tempered by discipline, a presence that drew the eye without trying.
A devastating combination.
He approached with measured steps, his aide trailing behind him.
His brows were faintly furrowed in that familiar way—
as if his mind was already three conversations ahead,
always thinking, always calculating, always beyond her reach.
He didn't notice her.
Not at first.
Wan Li felt her courage retreat—
shrinking, shrinking, shrinking—
But she clenched her trembling hands.
I must thank him.
She stepped forward—
"Y–Young Master Kezhen…"
Her voice was tiny.
Barely a whisper.
But he heard it.
He paused mid-step.
Turned.
Looked at her fully for the first time in clear sunlight.
Wan Li's cheeks flushed instantly.
Her breath stopped.
A delicate shiver ran through her fingers.
He didn't speak.
Nor smile.
His gaze was calm, unreadable.
But he was looking at her.
Her.
Wan Li lowered her head so quickly her braid swung forward.
"I… I… wanted to… thank you… for… for yesterday…"
She squeezed her hands together so tightly her knuckles whitened.
"I… I'm grateful… truly…"
Her voice crumbled near the end, trembling with nerves, awe, and something frighteningly close to adoration.
Silence.
She dared not lift her head.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
KEZHEN'S SIDE
He studied her for a quiet moment.
She was completely different today.
Not crying.
Not drenched.
Just a young girl in simple clothes, cheeks flushed, eyes lowered, voice soft as falling snow.
And he remembered:
Stand.
How small she looked then.
How small she still looked now.
Pitiful.
But also—
Striking.
Her beauty was more apparent now that she wasn't covered in tears and dirt.
Her innocence nearly tangible.
Her gratitude sincere.
His aide cleared his throat softly, unsure whether the young master wished to respond.
Kezhen finally spoke—
just one word again:
"…Mn."
A brief, quiet acknowledgment.
Then he turned and continued walking.
Wan Li remained frozen, heart thudding wildly as he passed.
AFTER
Only when he disappeared around the corner did she finally exhale—
a shaky, breathless sound.
Su Yan touched her arm.
"Miss… you did well."
Wan Li pressed her palms to her burning cheeks.
"He… he answered…"
She felt faint with joy.
Light as air.
He spoke to me twice.
It was ridiculous.
Pathetic.
Laughable.
But to a girl who had never been treated gently,
never been seen,
never been protected—
two syllables felt like a lifetime.
Wan Li hugged her hands to her chest.
Mother… I think I really…
Her heart fluttered wildly.
…fell in love.
TBC