The morning of the gathering arrived cold and full of anticipation.

Frost clung to the courtyard stones, but inside, warmth gathered.

Qing stood behind Lin Yue, guiding a comb slowly through her hair.

“Does it pull?” Qing asked softly, leaning over Lin Yue’s shoulder to look at her.

Lin Yue shook her head with a smile.

“It’s fine.”

Mei leaned closer, watching with quiet fascination.

"I have never seen so many layers prepared at once!"

“Do all gatherings require this?”

Lanru let out a small breath, though there was no real impatience in it.

"Not all, but this one matters.”

She picked through the hair ornaments, setting a few aside before pausing, her fingers lingering on a simpler piece.

“This one.”

“It won’t compete with the dress.”

Shuang moved to adjust Lin Yue's inner sleeve.

“It should sit a little higher,” she murmured.

Qing nodded, moving slightly to give her space.

“Will there be snow?” Mei asked, glancing toward the window.

“It would make everything brighter!”

“Perhaps,” Lin Yue said laughing a little.

Mei smiled at the answer and laughed to.

Auntie Rong watched from the side with warm eyes. "Bring the outer robe,"

Lanru and Shuang had to move together to lift it.

The crimson fabric unfolded slowly, catching the little light there was in the room.

Mei’s voice dropped to a quiet whisper.

“It’s beautiful.”

Lanru gave a small nod.

“It is.”

They dressed Lin Yue in layers. Qing smoothed the collar into place, her fingers lingering just long enough to ensure it sat properly.

"Stand."

Lin Yue rose. The crimson fell into place around her; it didn't blend with anything in the room.

*It's pretty.*

Shuang adjusted the sleeve again.

"It will be noticed," she said with worry.

Lin Yue looked down at the dress.

“I know.”

Lanru stepped back, folding her arms loosely.

“Let them look!”

Mei nodded quickly.

“Exactly let them look, miss is pretty anyway!”

Auntie Rong stepped closer, looking at Lin Yue carefully.

Her eyes moved over every detail before settling on Lin Yue's face.

“You look beautiful,” she said with tears in her eyes. “No one will find fault in how you are presented.”

Lin Yue bowed her head a little and gave Aunty Rong a hug.

"Thank you, Auntie."

Qing reached out, adjusting a final strand of hair near Lin Yue's temple.

“It suits you,” she said quietly.

Lin Yue glanced at her reflection.

The color didn't make her look gentle, but it didn't make her look distant either.

Instead it made her feel seen.

Lin Yue let out a little breath.

"Let us go,"

The door creaked open.

*Creeaaakk.*

Bao Yu spoke before she could be seen.

“So Fourth Miss truly intends to wear that?”

Jia stepped in behind her, her eyes fixed on the dress.

“In a gathering like this, restraint is valued.”

"This... may not be appropriate."

Auntie Rong spoke up before anyone else could.

"You will remember your place,"

She left no room for argument.

Bao Yu gave a small shrug, looking away.

“We are only speaking out of concern.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

The Shen carriage rolled beneath the pale winter sky, the wheels creaked softly over the stones, carrying the passengers steadily toward the gathering.

Lin Yue sat looking out at the streets, watching the people passing. Lu Qing sat close, adjusting Lin Yue's hair.

Across from them, Shen Meilin kept glancing at Lin Yue’s dress. “Fourth Sister sure does enjoy attention,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Yueran smiled. "One must be confident to wear such a heavy color."

Shen Xiu kept her eyes to herself but very quietly mumbled, "It is memorable."

Lin Yue moved her eyes from the window to Meilin. "It is better to be remembered for strength than admired for fading into the background."

A hush fell in the carriage. The crunch of the wheels felt louder in the silence.

"You won't be so smug after today."

Silence followed, and Yueran added quickly, "I meant the poetry judging. Don't misunderstand."

Lin Yue didn't answer. She pressed her fingers together lightly.

*Nothing Yueran said was without reason. What could she mean?*

Beside her, Qing’s expression darkened. Lin Yue let out a soft breath. “Do not mind it,” she whispered so that only Qing would hear it.

Qing nodded.

“Yes Miss.”

~~~~~~~~~~♡

Inside Minister Cai’s grand estate, lantern light shimmered over carved beams and embroidered tapestries, filling the space with a warm glow.

Guests moved through the hall their conversations polite but distant.

The poetry session began in proper form. Each girl approached the small raised platform, selecting a bamboo stick that held her name, and read her carefully chosen verse aloud.

Lin Yue waited quietly, watching the other girls speak. She did not fidget or glance nervously. Qing remained at her side, eyes alert, ready to step forward if any misstep threatened Lin Yue.

Across the hall, whispers passed, Some people glanced at the deep red among the pale pastels.

"How rude"

"So bold"

"Realy shameless"

Soon it was Shen Meilin’s turn. Her voice floated through the hall, soft and delicate:

Snow drifts along the jade corridor.

Lanterns sway with gentle sighs.

Even in quiet halls, grace endures.

Soft as silk in the moonlight.

*Clap clap clap.*

Lin Yue watched quietly

*Meilin’s words are pretty but ultimately empty.*

Shen Yueran followed, her voice steady and even, each line flowing smoothly through the hall:

Golden leaves fall where cold winds meet.

Paths of stone echo disciplined feet.

In the frost, patience blooms anew.

Yueran glanced smugly at Lin Yue a few times.

Lin Yue ignored her.

* your glances do nothing. You'll only ever see what I allow.*

A few of Yueran’s friends were whispering and snickering staring at her.

Lin Yue felt a prick of irritation.

*Petty and childish.*

Qing’s hand tightened around hers. Lin Yue felt Qing’s quiet worry, she appreciated it, though she did not need it.

*Let them talk.*

The group’s whispers faded as the next verse approached.

Shen Xiu’s turn came, her voice soft:

Morning light spills on pale rivers.

Reflections shift with the gentle shiver.

A song of calm, a sigh restrained.

Moments linger, untouched, unclaimed.

"Such subtle phrasing "

"Not bad for a concubines daughter"

Then Lin Yues turn came.

Faint whispers rose from Meilin’s circle.

“I wonder what countryside imagery she’ll use,” someone murmured.

“Perhaps hunting rabbits,” another added.

“I heard she skinned one!”

Lin Yue walked to the plattorm, Her voice carried steadily as she began:

Winter bends the fragile stem.

Petals fall to frozen ground.

Yet beneath the silent frost.

Roots endure without a sound.

When warm winds return once more.

Blossoms rise where grief had been.

What was thought forever lost

greens the barren earth again.

A hush fell over the hall. The imagery of the poem was simple, yet the meaning resilience, quiet strength, growth after suffering was something her sisters' polished verses could not convey.

Inside, Lin Yue felt joy blooming in her chest.

*They see me, they can't ignore me.*

*Clap, clap.*

"What did this girl experience to come up with something like that?"

*Clap, clap.*

"The Shen household needs to control their daughters."

"Bold of her to try and outshine her sisters."

*Clap, clap.*

"No doubt someone else wrote that for her."

Lin Yue wandered through the hall, her dress softly brushing against the polished floor with each step.

The other girls had already formed tight circles, laughing and whispering among themselves, avoiding her.

Lin Yue was considering what corner to stand in when a bright, cheerful voice called from across the room:

“Your dress is stunning!”

Lin Yue turned and saw a lively girl with sparkling eyes and a grin that reached her ears.

"I’m Rong Xinyi,” she said, stepping closer. “Don’t worry, they are always like this. It’s pathetic really.”

Lin Yue looked at her, a faint smile forming. "You noticed?"

“It’s obvious,” Rong Xinyi said, nudging her slightly. “I have a few friends who come to these gatherings. I’ll introduce you.”

Within moments, Lin Yue found herself swept into a small circle of girls.

They whispered about bad verses, laughed over shared thoughts. At the gathering, they treated her as an equal. For the first time that day, Lin Yue felt normal.

Qing was welcomed too, speaking easily with the girls, a smile on her face as she joined the conversation.

Across the room, Lady Han’s eyes followed Lin Yue. Every gesture, every laugh, every expression drew her ire.

But Lin Yue didn't notice. She was too busy being seen, too busy being included, and the warmth of new friendship wrapped around her like sunlight breaking through frost.

~~~~~~~~~~~♡

The poetry judging concluded, and Lin Yue's name was called first.

"Miss Shen Lin Yue."

Meilin’s smile faltered. She stomped over to Lady Han in a rage.

Yueran's fingers tightened in her sleeves, but she remained dignified talking to her friends as if she didn't care.

Shen Xiu looked genuinely startled; she stared at Lin Yue with new eyes.

Rong Xinyi clapped excitedly, squeezing Lin Yue’s arm and jumping up and down.

"You did so well."

Lin Yue smiled and laughed while shaking her head.

"Everyone did well, especially you. Your poem about fruit was particularly good!"

Qing smiled happily, her pride evident, she couldnt help bragging to Rong Xinyi about Lin Yue’s performance.

"My miss has always been good at poetry ever since she was young!"

"Qing." Lin Yue said, her face getting red, "Don't tell her those things!"

Among the spectators, a young man leaned against a marble column. He didn't wear the usual colors of the other young men; he looked more like a shadow.

He moved a dark red and black fan with a slow grace. On the silk of the fan, red Spider Lilies bloomed.

Lin Yue’s eyes met his for a heartbeat, the noise of the poetry and the clinking of teacups muffled. There was only the red of her dress and the red of his flowers.

His expression was a desert, vast and impossible to read.

He folded the fan with a sharp.

*Clack.*

When she blinked, and the column was bare.

The shadow was gone.

*What was that about?*

Lin Yue shook her head and focused instead on the circle of girls around her and the gentle warmth of their laughter.

*Some things are meant to pass unnoticed.*

The applause for Lin Yue had barely settled when, from across the hall, Minister Cai's concubine-born son stepped forward.

“You’re… very pretty,” his voice low, his eyes running up and down Lin Yue's body. “I cannot wait for you to be mine.”

Qing immediately stepped beside her, placing a hand on his chest.

“Step back!”

Before he could speak, a swift movement from the side startled him. Rong Xinyi had grabbed a small, rolled-up scroll from a nearby table and tossed it at him. It struck his shoulder.

*Doof.*

"Get away from her!" Rong Xinyi said, charging after him with a furious grin. The young man turned, his confidence shattered, and hurriedly retreated toward the other side of the hall, muttering under his breath.

"Only a lowly cursed daughter."

"She really dares?"

"See how i fix her later—."

Lin Yue felt the tension drain from her shoulders, a small laugh escaping despite the situation.

Qing let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head in exasperation.

Rong Xinyi returned to them, still panting lightly from the chase, and the three of them shared a quiet, victorious laugh together, the warmth of the moment pushing the earlier unease aside.

"You really are fearless," Lin Yue said, smiling at Rong Xinyi.

"And you deserve to enjoy yourself," Rong Xinyi replied, nudging her lightly.

Lin Yue had barely caught her breath from laughing with Rong Xinyi and Qing when a sharp, clipped voice cut through the warmth.

“Well, well, well,” a girl said, her pale green dress rustling as she approached. Her tone was light but edged with disdain.

“Fourth Miss Shen, winning first place… how amusing. Do you dare to think you deserved it?”

Lin Yue looked at her in confusion. "Who are you, may I ask?"

"Wei Zihan, the daughter of General Wei Liang."

"With respect, Wei Zihan, you speak lightly of things you barely understand. The verse speaks for itself."

Wei Zihan tilted her head, a mocking smile spread all over her face.

“A low-born girl beating daughters of proper families. How quaint...I suppose luck favors the bold”

With that, she walked away with her group.