The door closed behind her with a soft, final click.
It sounded almost gentle.
Almost harmless.
But inside Wan Li, something broke with a sharp, aching shudder.
She took a single step into the corridor.
Then another.
Her breathing came shallow, thin, trembling.
Her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her sleeves.
Madam Li's voice still rang in her ears:
"You cannot be his wife."
"Your fate depends entirely on the Third Young Master's choice."
"If he does not want you, you will be sent away."
Sent away.
The words felt like cold metal pressed against her throat.
Sent away from where?
From the only roof she had left.
From the household she survived in for three lonely years.
From the place where she had quietly built all her hopes.
Sent away from him.
Her legs weakened; she nearly stumbled.
Su Yan moved quickly, catching her elbow.
"Miss… Miss, breathe," the maid whispered urgently. "You must breathe."
Wan Li didn't realize she had stopped breathing.
Her chest burned as the air returned in a ragged gasp.
She pressed a trembling hand to her heart.
It hurt.
Not the pain of insult.
Not the sting of humiliation.
It hurt because something fragile—something she had protected so carefully—had been cut open.
--
Her Heart Did Not Begin Four Days Ago
The world might have believed Wan Li fell in love just four days ago—
when the Third Young Master stepped between her and cruelty,
when he said the single word that lifted her from the ground.
Stand.
They might think her heart was soft and foolish, a little girl's sudden crush.
But they would be wrong.
Wan Li's devotion did not bloom in four days.
It had been planted three years ago—
in a palace burning red,
beneath a collapsing roof,
over her mother's dying command.
She remembered it so clearly
the memory burned behind her eyes like a brand.
"The Yuan family's youngest son… you were promised to him years ago. One day… he will be your safety."
Her mother had said it with tears in her eyes,
voice steady despite the flames around them.
Wan Li had been twelve.
Terrified.
Sheltered.
A girl who only knew obedience and modesty,
a girl who flinched at loud footsteps
and cried when forced to speak to strangers.
And in that chaos,
her mother had given her one thread to hold onto:
A name.
A promise.
A future.
Those words became her anchor.
When she arrived at the Yuan estate,
alone except for Su Yan,
stripped of her silk robes,
stripped of her title,
stripped of her world—
she clung to that promise like drowning fingers clutching floating driftwood.
Every time she cried quietly at night in her tiny room,
she repeated the name she only learned in this residence.
Yuan Kezhen.
Her mother's last hope.
Her only remaining future.
Every whispered rumor about him became a blessing.
"He won a scholarship."
"He ranked first again."
"He will be an official one day."
"He is brilliant."
"He is the son Madam Li trusts the most."
Wan Li absorbed every word.
She built him in her mind
the way lonely girls build heroes out of scraps of kindness.
She imagined his gentle voice.
His soft eyes.
The way he might one day look at her and think—
"She belongs here.
She is mine to protect."
She told herself stories to survive.
Stories where he returned.
Stories where he pulled her out of the shadows.
Stories where she was no longer invisible.
She tied her entire existence
to the promise of a boy she had never met.
She told herself—
"One day my suffering will end."
"One day he will see me."
"One day he will save me."
She waited.
For three years.
--
The Moment He Appeared
And then—
four days ago—
he stepped into her world.
Not as a dream.
Not as rumor.
Not as a distant figure spoken of by servants.
But in flesh and blood.
Tall.
Elegant.
Sunlight catching along his cheekbones.
Eyes steady and gentle even when firm.
He saw her covered in water and filth
and he did not turn away.
He did not ignore her.
He did not walk past.
He spoke one word—
"Stand."
But to her?
It felt like—
"Lift your head."
"You are not nothing."
"You deserve to rise."
That was the moment she stopped imagining.
That was the moment she started loving.
Not because of romance.
Not because of girlish fantasy.
But because he confirmed
what she had told herself every night for three years:
"He is kind."
"He is gentle."
"He will not abandon me."
Her chest tightened painfully now.
And then Madam Li shattered it.
--
Immediate Aftermath — The Corridor of Light
Wan Li leaned heavily against the wooden pillar,
tears burning behind her eyes.
Su Yan touched her shoulder carefully.
"Miss… please don't cry yet. We're still in the hallway…"
Wan Li nodded frantically, pressing both hands to her mouth until the trembling eased.
But her breaths came uneven.
"Su Yan…"
Her voice was barely audible.
"I— I cannot be his wife."
Her cheeks flushed with shame,
as if saying it made it more true.
Su Yan's eyes softened with guilt.
"Miss, the Madam only meant—"
"She said… I will be sent away if he does not want me."
Her voice cracked.
"And— and I want him to want me."
This was not boldness.
This was not vanity.
This was not ambition.
It was desperation.
She had never wanted anything for herself until now.
Her voice grew smaller.
"I… love him."
Su Yan's breath caught.
Wan Li's entire world had become this simple, painful truth.
If he did not keep her—
she had nowhere to return to.
No palace.
No mother.
No family.
No identity.
No one who would claim her.
Except him.
Her knees weakened again.
If she cannot be his wife…
Then… then perhaps something else.
Something lesser, something smaller—
but still tethered to him.
Her cheeks heated with shame, but she whispered the truth anyway:
"I want him to… to look at me."
"To see me. Not like a servant. Not like… a burden."
Su Yan's eyes softened with heartbreak.
Wan Li continued, voice shaking:
"I want him to think I am… worthy. That… he doesn't have to send me away."
"I want to… belong… somewhere."
"…I want to belong to him."
Her voice cracked, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.
--
A Dangerous Resolve
Silence fell between the two girls.
Then Wan Li's breathing steadied just slightly.
Her lashes lowered.
Something fragile—
but determined—
settled behind her eyes.
"…I will try," she whispered.
Su Yan blinked. "Try… what, Miss?"
"To be someone he wants."
The words were so soft,
so gentle,
that they pierced deeper than any loud declaration could have.
"I will be obedient," she murmured.
"I will be proper.
I will not cause him trouble.
I will do everything Mother taught me…"
Her voice trembled—
"…so he won't send me away."
This was not confidence.
This was a plea stitched into resolve.
The resolve of a girl who had nothing left
except the belief that if she tried hard enough,
she could be wanted.
That she could stay.
Her heart fluttered painfully in her chest.
"I don't need to be his wife," she whispered.
"I only need to be allowed near him… close enough that I can serve… close enough that he won't forget me."
Her cheeks warmed in shy, fragile devotion.
"I just want to stay by his side."
Su Yan closed her eyes in agony.
Because she knew Wan Li was tying a noose around her own heart—
and calling it devotion.
--
Unseen Footsteps
Neither girl noticed the figure passing at the corridor's far end.
A tall young man.
Quiet steps.
A faint shadow stretching long behind him.
He did not hear Wan Li's whispered vows.
He caught no confession, no trembling plea.
But he saw her small form—
curled in on itself,
hands shaking,
eyes glimmering with tears she fought to hide.
His brows drew together
in the faintest trace of a frown.
Barely there.
Half a breath long.
But enough that his aide behind him stiffened in surprise.
The Third Young Master was not a man who reacted easily.
By the time Wan Li lifted her head,
he was gone.
Her tears remained.
Her resolve hardened.
Her first heartbreak began.
--
TBC