The sky over the city had turned gray by mid-morning. Light rain began to fall, tapping gently against the rooftops and stone streets. Li Wei looked up as she secured a cloth cover above her stall.
"Another slow day," she whispered to herself.
She placed her fresh buns on display—warm lotus, sweet red bean, and her newest creation: honey ginger steam cakes. Their scent floated through the misty air, but few people passed by in the rain.
Xiao Ling sat beside her under the cover, drawing small flowers in the steamed-up surface of a wooden tray. "Jie-jie," she said, "maybe no one wants to come out in the rain."
"Maybe," Li Wei said softly. "Or maybe our stall is just not exciting enough."
From across the street, a familiar figure appeared—Shen's servant. He hurried toward them with an umbrella in hand and a polite smile on his face.
"Miss Li Wei," he said, bowing, "my young master wishes to send a small invitation. The banquet is in three days, and he would be honored if you would attend as a guest as well."
Li Wei looked up, surprised. "As a guest? But I'm just preparing the food."
The servant smiled kindly. "Young master Shen insists. He says it's a celebration of your talent too."
Li Wei's heart fluttered. She wasn't used to being treated with honor anymore. But something in her stomach twisted. She wasn't sure if it was nervousness—or doubt.
"I'll think about it," she said finally, trying to sound calm.
The servant bowed once more. "He will be pleased to see you there."
That evening, at the other end of the city, inside the candlelit chambers of Minister Gao's estate, Shen leaned back in a silk chair. A servant poured warm tea into a porcelain cup.
"She seemed unsure?" Shen asked, eyebrows slightly raised.
"Yes," his man replied. "But she accepted your kindness with grace."
Shen stared into his teacup, his fingers tapping against the rim. "I must be careful," he murmured. "She's not like the women in court. Her spirit is softer... but sharper."
He smiled faintly. "And I like that."
Meanwhile, in a quiet military barracks on the edge of the capital, General Yan Chen stood in the training yard, sword in hand. His face, as always, was half-hidden behind the black and gold mask. Rain slid down his armor.
Across from him, Feng waited patiently under the shelter of the stable. The general moved with precision, practicing cuts and strikes—fast, efficient, full of purpose.
After several minutes, Yan Chen lowered his sword.
"She's been invited to Minister Gao's banquet," Feng reported.
Yan Chen didn't turn around. "To cook, or to sit?"
"To sit. As an honored guest."
There was a pause.
"She accepted?" Yan Chen asked.
"She said she would think about it."
The general was silent for a long moment. Then he stepped forward, placing the blade back into its sheath.
"Send a guard to watch the banquet. Quietly. If anything feels wrong, I want to know."
"Yes, General."
Feng hesitated before speaking again. "You could go yourself."
"I have no place in that world," Yan Chen said. "And neither does my mask."
Two days later, the sun returned. Li Wei stood at the stove in her courtyard, testing new fillings and folding lotus leaves into careful triangles. The air smelled sweet and earthy.
Xiao Mei appeared carrying a folded dress. "Look what I found," she said. "It's one of your old gowns. I fixed it up. You should wear it to the banquet!"
Li Wei looked up from the stove. "I'm not sure I should go."
Xiao Mei frowned. "Why not? You were invited."
"It feels strange. As if I'm being treated like someone I'm not."
"But isn't that what you are?" Mei said gently. "You've worked hard. You've earned it."
Li Wei looked down at her hands—still sticky with dough. "It just doesn't feel real."
There was a long pause, then Mei asked carefully, "Do you… like him?"
Li Wei looked up quickly. "Who?"
"Young master Shen."
Li Wei shook her head slowly. "He's kind. Very kind. But… there's something about him I don't fully understand. I feel like there's more behind his eyes."
"Then follow your heart," Mei said softly. "But wear the dress. You'll feel stronger in it."
Li Wei smiled. "Alright. I'll go. Just for one night."
That night, under the moonlight, a cloaked figure watched from the shadows.
Yan Chen stood silently on a distant rooftop, gaze fixed on Li Wei's small home. He could see candlelight flickering inside. Her laughter reached his ears faintly, followed by the sound of boiling water.
"She's going to the banquet," Feng whispered beside him.
"I know," Yan Chen replied quietly.
"You could speak to her."
"She doesn't need my mask showing up in the middle of her future."
"Maybe it's already part of her future," Feng said.
Yan Chen didn't answer. Instead, he turned away.
"Keep watching her stall," he said. "If any trouble comes while I'm gone, I want to know."
"You're leaving?"
"Only for a few days. A border post sent word—bandits again. It will be quick."
He stepped off the rooftop and disappeared into the dark.
The next morning, as she prepared her ingredients for the banquet, Li Wei noticed a small paper tied to the leg of a bird resting on her windowsill. It was a message.
No signature.
No name.
Only words:
"Some battles are not fought with swords. Be brave in silk."
She read it three times, heart racing.
She had no idea who sent it… but it made her feel seen.
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