The seventh year of Emperor Zhao Mingde's reign arrived wrapped in silk and ceremony.
The capital glittered beneath crimson lanterns. Gold-threaded banners draped the palace corridors, and the scent of sandalwood smoke curled through the vast halls like a silent omen.
It was the night of the Spring Banquet.
The night reputations were made.
And destroyed.
Yu Lan stood before the bronze mirror while her maid adjusted the final jade hairpin into her dark hair. Her reflection looked serene — soft eyes, gentle smile, flawless posture.
A perfect noble daughter.
"Miss," the maid whispered excitedly, "it is said His Majesty will personally select talents to enter the palace this year. You must shine."
Yu Lan's fingers paused lightly over the sleeve of her pale green hanfu.
"To shine too brightly," she said quietly, "is to invite the wind."
The maid did not understand.
But Yu Lan did.
In this court, beauty could be admired.
Virtue could be praised.
But influence?
Influence was feared.
And feared things were eliminated.
The grand hall of the palace was a sea of gold and red.
At the center, upon the elevated Dragon Throne, sat Emperor Zhao Mingde. His expression radiated benevolence — the smile of a ruler beloved by his people.
Or so the official records claimed.
At his right stood the man who truly unsettled the court.
Imperial Master Long Tianwei.
Clad in dark robes embroidered with subtle dragon scales, he appeared composed, almost detached. His features were sharp, his gaze colder than winter steel.
To the Emperor's left sat Prime Minister Huo Yun, calm and refined, his eyes observant behind lowered lashes.
Near the foot of the steps stood General Bo Li, tall and resolute in formal armor, his presence like a drawn blade — silent but unmistakable.
Yu Lan entered with the other noble daughters.
And behind her —
Yu Ya.
If Yu Lan resembled spring's first blossom, Yu Ya resembled a rose grown among thorns. Her smile was flawless. Her gaze, calculating.
The sisters bowed in unison.
"Rise," the Emperor commanded warmly.
One by one, daughters of noble houses presented their talents.
Poetry.
Music.
Embroidery.
Flattery.
Then it was Yu Lan's turn.
She stepped forward with measured grace, holding a small carved jade phoenix.
"This daughter offers a humble token," she said softly. "May it symbolize peace and prosperity beneath Heaven."
The Emperor beamed.
"A phoenix for the Son of Heaven. Lady Yu Lan is thoughtful."
Murmurs of approval echoed.
But another voice interrupted — calm, controlled.
"Lady Yu Lan speaks of peace."
Imperial Master Long Tianwei's gaze rested fully upon her now.
"What would you sacrifice to preserve it?"
The hall quieted instantly.
It was not a casual question.
It was a test.
Yu Lan lowered her gaze.
In that single heartbeat, she understood.
If she answered with blind loyalty, she would be dismissed as shallow.
If she spoke too boldly, she would be remembered.
And remembered women in court often met unfortunate ends.
She lifted her eyes.
"Peace built on sacrifice alone is fragile," she said gently. "True stability comes when those in power fear losing the people's trust."
Silence.
The Emperor's smile did not vanish — but it stiffened.
Huo Yun's gaze sharpened.
Bo Li's brow lifted slightly.
And Long Tianwei…
Smiled.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Yu Lan bowed again, retreating without another word.
Behind her, she felt it —
Yu Ya's stare.
Later that evening, beneath the lantern-lit corridor, Yu Ya approached her.
"You were bold tonight, Sister."
Her voice was warm.
Too warm.
Yu Lan met her eyes calmly.
"Was I?"
Yu Ya's lips curved slightly.
"Imperial Master Long does not ask idle questions."
"I only answered honestly."
Yu Ya stepped closer.
"In this palace," she said softly, "honesty is rarely rewarded."
Yu Lan's smile did not waver.
"Then I must learn to be more careful."
The sisters held each other's gaze for a moment too long.
Then Yu Ya turned away.
From an elevated balcony overlooking the courtyard, Long Tianwei watched the departing figures.
"She does not tremble," he said quietly.
A shadow guard knelt behind him.
"Shall we investigate Lady Yu Lan?"
Long Tianwei's eyes followed her until she disappeared into the night.
"Not yet."
He paused.
"Flowers reveal more when left undisturbed."
That night, alone in her chamber, Yu Lan removed her hairpins one by one.
The gentle smile faded.
In its place was something steadier.
More deliberate.
"The Imperial Master noticed me," she murmured.
That was not entirely good.
Nor entirely bad.
Prime Minister Huo Yun had watched her carefully.
General Bo Li had shown quiet approval.
And Yu Ya…
Yu Ya had not liked the attention shifting.
Yu Lan walked to the window, gazing at the moonlit palace roofs.
This court was not ruled by kindness.
Nor by righteousness.
It was ruled by balance.
And balance required allies.
"If I remain harmless," she whispered, "I will be used."
Her reflection in the window seemed to look back at her with new resolve.
"If I become sharp…"
She closed her eyes briefly.
"…I must ensure I am indispensable."
Beyond the palace walls, the wind stirred.
And somewhere within the vast empire, unseen currents began to shift.
The lotus had bloomed.
But beneath the water—
Roots were already spreading.