Fated Encounter

Amidst the bustling market stalls, Shuchun moved with a grace that commanded attention. Her discerning eyes roved over the vibrant tapestry of produce on display. Each vendor's booth, a symphony of colors and fragrances, beckoned her to explore. The market was alive, a living entity, each stallholder crafting a unique experience.

Pausing by a cart laden with plump, sun-kissed peaches, her fingers brushed delicately against the fuzzy skin, testing their ripeness with a gentle press. Her lips curved into a thoughtful smile, a dance of appreciation for nature's bounty.

The vendor, an older adult whose eyes held the wisdom of years, beamed at Shuchun's keen observation. "A fine choice, Little Miss Yang. These peaches are as sweet as summer's first breeze, a taste of the sun captured in each bite."

Shuchun's smile mirrored the vendor's warmth. "I'm certain of that, Auntie Ying. Please, gather a few for me."

Continuing her elegant journey through the market, Shuchun's steps guided her to a stall laden with an artful arrangement of vegetables. The emerald-green leaves of spinach caught her eye, and her slender fingers plucked a few leaves to scrutinize their quality. Her contemplative expression showed her appreciation for the finer details.

The vendor, a robust man with a hearty laugh, chuckled as he witnessed Shuchun's scrutiny. "You've got a discerning eye for the finest greens, Little Miss Yang. These leaves are crisp and tender, a delightful addition to your table."

Shuchun's words were laced with warmth as she spoke, her voice a soothing melody. "Your reputation for providing the freshest vegetables precedes you, Uncle Fu. Your offerings grace our meals with unmatched quality."

With each step, Shuchun embarked on a journey that embraced the market's heart and soul. The merchant eagerly presented his latest catches at a bustling fish stall, shimmering beneath the morning light. "Little Miss Yang, feast your eyes on the finest fish this side of the market." Shuchun's gaze moved over the aquatic display, appreciating the rhythmic movements of the catch. Her smile conveyed her genuine intrigue.

"Uncle Sho, your selection is truly remarkable," Shuchun acknowledged her words, carrying an air of respect for the merchant's craft. "A few of your finest catches will find their way to our kitchen."

Uncle Sho's eyes twinkled with camaraderie. "Coming right up, Little Miss. Your family will undoubtedly enjoy the freshness of these offerings."

"Thank you, Uncle Sho," Shuchun's gratitude carried a playful undertone, a silent bond forged between patron and merchant.

As her exploration continued, a cart piled high with a spectrum of fruits beckoned her curiosity. The vendor, whose laughter was as infectious as his wide grin, gestured warmly. "Little Miss Yang, allow me to introduce you to the succulent delights of these grapes. Truly, they are the pinnacle of the market's offerings."

Shuchun's eyes sparkled with intrigue as she examined the cluster of grapes. "A bunch of these grapes, Uncle Chen, will undoubtedly provide a refreshing treat."

Uncle Chen's practiced hands selected the grapes precisely, his movements reflecting years of expertise. "It's always an honor to serve you, Miss Yang."

With her purchases from the food stalls now complete, Shuchun's steps carried her toward the haven of textiles and embroidery. An electric excitement pulsed through her as she feasted her eyes on the vibrant fabrics on display. "Nona!" Shuchun's voice resonated with uncontained enthusiasm, beckoning her steadfast companion. "Observe, Nona; they have unveiled new fabrics, some even discounted!"

Nona's smile mirrored Shuchun's zeal. "This is your cherished sanctuary, Shuchun. Shall we explore together and uncover the hidden treasures that await?"

Shuchun's eyes sparkled like stars, her nod a testament to her unbridled excitement. Her love for the art of creating clothes flowed through her veins, even if her skills were a work in progress. A passion for breathing life into fabrics was kindled within her, nurtured by the unwavering support of Madam Shan, her principal mother—a woman whose presence was as constant as the sun rising each day.

Note: In this world, the main mother/wife of the family is referred to as "Mother," irrespective of biological relation.

———

"Young Master, I have all her information in this letter," Cong stated as he handed over the meticulously prepared document to Youngrui.

"You're late, Cong," Youngrui remarked, his voice edged with impatience as he accepted the letter. His eyes quickly scanned the contents, absorbing the details.

"My apologies, Young Master. It seems I was being trailed, forcing me to take evasive measures," Cong explained with an air of urgency, his features etched with tension. The weight of his responsibility as Youngrui's protector was evident in his every move.

Setting the letter down on the table, Youngrui's hand slammed onto its edge, sending a sharp tremor through the wooden surface. The sudden outburst startled Cong, causing him to bow in response involuntarily. The atmosphere shifted, and anger and icy detachment emanated from his Young Master, sending shivers down Cong's spine. In a swift motion, Cong dropped to his knees, his forehead nearly touching the ground as he bowed deeply. "Please, quell your anger, Young Master," he pleaded, his voice laced with genuine concern and respect.

"Do you know whose men were tailing you?" Youngrui's tone was measured, though his clenched fist and the movement of his right hand to his temple betrayed his effort to manage his frustration.

Cong, still maintaining his kowtow position, gradually sat up on his heels, his eyes cast downward as he chose his words carefully. "It appears to be the Elder Master's men, Young Master," he disclosed, deliberately avoiding the term 'brothers' in the presence of his Young Master. The memory of a previous incident, when the table had split in two from Youngrui's furious punch, was etched into Cong's mind. His Young Master's patience was known to be long, but when he reached his limit, it was as if he was a brimming cup of water, teetering on the edge of overflowing. At that moment, the pressure within him reached its breaking point and spilled over. Cong could sense the tipping point approaching. He avoided direct eye contact with his Master, and his expression darkened with remorse for his earlier actions.

"Which one?" Youngrui's words hissed through clenched teeth, his hands clenched into tight fists, knuckles turning pale from the strain, the nails leaving faint indentations in his palms. His pressure created red marks, and blood dropped onto the table. His countenance darkened further, an unsettling aura radiating from him—murderous, suffocating. In the eyes of someone with heightened perception, it might have seemed like black flames were emerging from him, a swirling vortex of darkness choking the air around him.

"Y-Young Ma-Master..." Cong gasped for air, struggling to regain his breath, his body tensing as he attempted to explain himself, a desperate plea for his Master to notice his distress.

Youngrui's attention returned to reality, his focus narrowing on the sight of Cong's struggling form. His best friend, his confidant, the guardian he trusted his life to—struggling for breath, a direct consequence of Youngrui's anger. Memories of their shared upbringing and their trials and tribulations surged like a relentless tide, flooding Youngrui's conscience with their weight. The gravity of his actions settled heavily upon him, a burden he couldn't ignore. "I'm sorry, Cong. I can't afford to let any harm befall us at this moment. We are in no position to confront them directly," Youngrui's clenched fist gradually relaxed, the intensity of his aura slowly subsiding. He extended his hand toward Cong, a gesture intended to guide him back to a semblance of normalcy, a reminder that their bond remained unbroken.

"Young Master, it's alright. But the men tailing me were Elder Master Li and Bo. Both of them, though they aren't cooperating in this matter. They turned against one another, engaged in a conflict that allowed me to slip away," Cong shared, settling into the chair across from his Young Master. Youngrui's eyes grew even darker, reflecting his tumultuous emotions.

Youngrui had become intimately acquainted with this agonizing pattern that threaded through his life like a persistent undercurrent. His older brothers, born from the same bloodline and nurtured by the same parents, were ostensibly bound by kinship ties. However, their actions resonated more with the resonance of greed than the bonds of shared blood. Each was locked in a ceaseless quest to imperil him, propelled by an unquenchable thirst for dominion and opulence. Their judgments were warped, stripped of the vestiges of empathy or compassion. Youngrui had seen through their facade—a ploy that concealed their true nature, the serpentine hearts that beat within. One brother's prosperity kindled the flames of envy in the other, a rivalry that fueled their eagerness to deploy any means required to undermine the other's joy. The two reveled in the art of flattery, their favor bestowed upon those who expertly stroked their egos, an insatiable craving that fueled their machinations.

"Young Master, the letter..." Cong pointed out, his gaze shifting to the droplet of blood on the table—a stark reminder of their shared reality.

"Oh, right," Youngrui muttered, momentarily distracted from his storm of emotions.

———

Clan: Yang

Name: Shuchun

Birthday: Second Month of Spring, Day 8 (May 8)

Mother: Madam Shan

Father: General Yang

Siblings: 5 Brothers, 3 Sister, 4 Half Brothers, 1 Half-Sister

Height: 155 cm, 5ft 1in

Weight: Unknown

Hobby: Sewing, cooking, playing instruments, reading, calligraphy, painting

Favorite color: Any shade of blue

Relationship: None

Engaged: None

Marriage: None

Divorced: None

Others: Very cheerful, carefree, outgoing, not shy, outspoken, gentle, nice

*Note: It's not lovely knowing or asking for a lady's weight*

———

"So she's the Little Miss Yang..." Youngrui mused, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his hand found its way to his chin in an amused manner. His gaze lingered on the letter, the delicate ink strokes forming Shuchun's name, and the portrait accompanying it. A soft thought echoed in his mind, 'Well, I hope to meet you soon,' as he allowed himself to appreciate the image that had been etched into his memory.

"Young... Master?" Cong's voice held a note of perplexity, his brows furrowing as he observed the uncharacteristic smile on his Young Master's face. It was an unprecedented sight—a smile directed at a woman's portrait and accompanying details. 'Could it be that the Young Master fancies her?' Cong speculated, worry knitting his brows together. 'Perhaps she inadvertently offended him?' Cong's complexion paled with questions multiplying and scenarios spiraling, his concern growing palpable.

"Cong, let's set out!" Youngrui's authoritative command broke Cong's reverie, prompting him to respond swiftly. Youngrui adeptly rolled up the letter and portrait, securing them in the folds of his sleeve pouch. Lost in his contemplation, Cong's response was absentminded, leading to an unfortunate stumble as he reached the doorway. Struggling to clear the small ledge, he tripped and landed unceremoniously face-first on the wooden floor.

The sight of his usually composed friend's clumsy mishap couldn't help but elicit a chuckle from Youngrui. Shaking his head with an amused grin, he extended a hand to help Cong regain his footing. "Are you my protector, or am I yours?" Youngrui quipped, injecting a light-hearted tone into the situation. Cong's embarrassment melted into a sheepish smile, and together, they exited the inn, with Cong regaining his balance but not his composure.

———

Shuchun's delicate sneeze prompted Nona's immediate concern. "Miss, could you be coming down with a cold?" Nona inquired, her worry evident in her voice.

"I don't believe so. Perhaps someone is simply mentioning my name?" Shuchun pondered, her voice tinged with speculation. Swiftly, she retrieved her handkerchief, using her right sleeve as a discreet barrier against prying eyes while she wiped her nose.

Note: It's considered improper to wipe one's nose in public openly, so discretion is necessary.

Side Note: Sneezing is often associated with someone discussing the person who sneezed.

Meanwhile, the astute cloth merchant, well aware of Shuchun's discerning taste, seized the opportune moment to captivate her attention. "Little Miss Yang, I beseech you to indulge your eyes in our most recent collection of silk fabrics," she beckoned, her voice a melodic invitation. She unveiled a few meticulously selected pieces with practiced grace, their shades across the blue spectrum. Elegantly, she presented the ethereal silk to Shuchun, placing it beside her fair skin to emphasize how the fabric complemented and enhanced her natural radiance. The visual juxtaposition spoke volumes, revealing the exquisite synergy between material and complexion, as though they were destined for each other.

Observing from a slight distance, Nona's interest in fabrics and textiles was more subdued compared to Shuchun's fervor. Content with her current wardrobe, Nona felt no compulsion to seek out more. Shuchun, however, possessed a deep appreciation for silk—its rarity and grandeur held a special place in her heart. With summer on the horizon, she envisioned a design that would marry simplicity with grace. Her ideal ensemble would embrace the season's warmth without burdening her with unnecessary layers.

Yet, as she perused the delicate silks, a new concept blossomed. These fabrics demanded an occasion more significant than casual summer wear—visiting the Palace or attending formal gatherings. With each passing moment, her decision solidified: these particular silks would be transformed into a creation worthy of noteworthy events.

"Aunty Meimei, I'm enchanted by these silk fabrics, though they seem better suited for grand occasions rather than summer attire. Do you possess lighter fabrics that would welcome the gentle breeze while protecting against occasional chills?" Shuchun's inquiry hung in the air, her thoughts dancing with color schemes and potential designs. Aunty Meimei regarded Shuchun with a knowing smile, recognizing the rarity of customers who considered a fabric's properties when choosing summer attire—most often, color, price, and the latest trends were the foremost considerations.

"Little Miss, please remain here a moment. I have a selection in the store's rear that will fulfill your requirements. Allow me to retrieve them for your consideration," Aunty Meimei promised, leaving Shuchun brimming with anticipation as she ventured into the depths of the store, the promise of creativity and artistry tangibly present in the air.