At night
Liyu and I were sitting in the garden, bathed in moonlight, sipping warm drinks to celebrate the successful first day of our new shop. The faint sounds of construction echoed from one side of the garden where rooms were still being built, but we had found a quiet corner beneath a lantern-lit tree to rest.
> "Today was a really tiring day," I said, exhaling deeply.
> "Yes, Master," Liyu replied, her voice slightly weary. "But I have some great news for you."
> "What news?" I looked at her with curiosity. "You suddenly sound excited."
> "I found a way for us to enter the palace."
Just as she was about to explain, Yilin approached from the shadows. We fell silent at once. Neither of us wanted to talk about the palace plan in front of her.
> "What were you two talking about?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
> "It's none of your business," I replied, a little too sharply.
Her expression fell just a bit. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I softened my tone.
> "Don't be sad. Come sit down. Want a drink?"
> "No, Miss," Yilin said with a polite smile. "I don't drink."
> "Don't you need some rest? It's getting late."
> "I'll rest tomorrow. There's a festival coming, isn't there?"
> "Which festival?"
> "The Mid-Autumn Festival," she replied gently.
> "I'm not familiar with this festival," I admitted.
> "Neither am I, Master," Liyu added.
> "That's surprising," Yilin said. "This festival is very famous in the East. Since both of you are from Yongning, I thought you'd know."
We exchanged a quick glance and shrugged.
> "Nope, never heard of it," Liyu said, chuckling.
> "No worries," Yilin said with a small smile. "I'll tell you about it."
She tucked her hands into her sleeves, her eyes glinting with the soft lantern light.
> "The Mid-Autumn Festival is a time for family reunions and giving thanks for the harvest. It's celebrated on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, when the moon is at its fullest and brightest."
> "What's the significance of the full moon?" I asked, genuinely intrigued.
> "In Chinese culture, the full moon represents unity and completeness. It's a symbol of family reunion and togetherness."
> "And mooncakes are part of it, right?" Liyu chimed in.
> "Yes," Yilin nodded. "Mooncakes are round pastries, usually filled with sweet bean paste or salted egg yolk. Their shape reflects the full moon, and they're a symbol of completeness and unity too."
I leaned back on my palms, gazing at the glowing sky.
> "That sounds… lovely," I murmured.
Yilin looked pleased that we were listening. Her words painted vivid images in my mind—families gathered around lanterns, children laughing, moonlight spilling across rooftops.
> "I'll have to celebrate it properly this year," I said aloud, making a note in my heart.
The conversation drifted gently after that. Liyu and Yilin chatted more, and I just listened, warmed by their voices and the glow of shared stories.
As the night wore on, we finally called it a day, each of us looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.
Next morning
I woke early again. The golden morning light streamed into my room. As I sat up, I noticed Yilin crouched near my desk, carefully folding red paper into delicate shapes.
> "What are you doing?" I asked, stepping closer.
> "Good morning, Master. I'm making lanterns for the Mid-Autumn Festival."
> "Ah," I nodded. "Alright. Carry on."
A few minutes later, Liyu walked in with a smile.
> "Master, your bath is ready. Also, your dress is prepared."
> "What kind of dress?"
> "A traditional one, perfect for today's festival. Yilin picked it. She said it would suit you perfectly."
I raised an eyebrow but smiled.
> "Did she? Well, let's see if her taste matches mine."
After bathing, I put on the dress. It was elegant, a flowing robe of soft white and gold, embroidered with clouds and silver rabbits. Simple, but refined.
Just as I stepped out of my room, a loud crash echoed from the shopfront.
I rushed over.
There, in the middle of chaos, stood Han Rui and Liyu, yelling at each other.
> "What's going on?" I asked firmly, stepping between them.
> "Your servant has no manners," Han Rui snapped.
Liyu clenched her fists, eyes burning with fury.
> "Enough," I interrupted, shielding her with my arm. "Mind your words. She's not a servant. She's my friend."
The damage was worse than I expected—jewelry cases knocked over, necklaces and bangles scattered across the floor, a few pieces clearly broken.
My gaze swept the room.
In one corner stood Yilin, frozen, her hands pressed together tightly, her face pale and confused—completely unaware of what had just unfolded.
I walked toward her, my voice quiet but serious.
> "Yilin... what happened here? Are you alright?"
Her wide eyes met mine, lips slightly parted as if still catching up to everything.
And I waited—for her words, or for a truth I wasn't sure I wanted to hear.