4

She cautiously picked up the ink brush once, as many times as she had let it down. Her mind was blank and clouded with uncertainty. Lashes were lowered, and the spirit bent. She had originally intended to speak, to let it all out. To push and materialize all those hazy, blunt emotions she felt all coupled up inside of her, but now she found herself at a loss for words. Just as if the brush possessed a mysterious power, erasing every thought and emotion from her mind in an instant. She let out a soft sigh that carried a heavy weight of forlornness in her realization of this. She longed to confide in Pelang about the trials she had endured—the pains, the worries, and the matters of her heart. She had been doing this for years after discovering the therapeutic escape she attained from it. Ever since then, writing to Pelang has always served as her solace from the harsh and unforgiving world.

That had been her reality for as long as she could remember—a world of cruelty and darkness. Despite the beauty reflected back at her in the mirror and the adoration she received from the palace, she could not shake the feelings that arose within her. Why had she allowed herself to become entangled in this situation, where she was deemed fortunate enough and deserving of a place in the Emperor's harem,

'Dear Pelang,'

Those were the only words that managed to make it alive. The only coherent words she could muster from the hurricane of emotions and memories that fought to tear her open. What was going on with her?

Her eyelids fluttered shut, trying desperately to make sense of these feelings. She felt like a huge blob of nothingness—not sad, not happy… simply empty. This was a goal that she had just achieved by coming into the palace. Not only was she not admitted into the palace, she was not officially married to the king, and she did not hold any position or title. The implication of this was that she might be either given as a gift to another person for marriage or as a concubine. Or she would be given a proper marriage soon. Either way, it gave her a chance to determine if this was really what she wanted.

She had never prided herself on being exceptionally intelligent or calculated in her actions. She was more of a "seize the best option as it presents itself" kind of person. But now she found herself entangled with the ruthless Prime Minister, and she inwardly groaned at the predicament she had landed herself in.

Everyone believed she should be happy. Even her intuition whispered that to her.

Meanwhile, as Xia is seated on her new bed, she dances in ecstasy at her luck. That same night, she was admitted into the palace as a noble lady. And for the first time, she experienced a good new life. She had nothing to worry about; she had just passed the biggest hurdle of her life, and she would forever remain a member of the harem and totally out of reach of every other lustful man. She would always be safe and never be molested in her life. She laughed happily and danced around in joy, grateful for her chance for a new beginning.

But of course the Prime Minister had been angry, enraged even, and flabbergasted at the position she managed to get. Sometimes, in her heart, she regretted ever taking the Prime Minister's help.

When she was done, she went to the kitchen to get her food and cleaning supplies. As she came back, she found that she had been assigned some maids and eunuchs. Everyone was so kind to her. As she rolled around in her new warm bed, she didn't care about anything else but the newfound joy that she had.

However, she felt like a breathing corpse, going through the motions of life with radiant eyes and an air of popularity. And tomorrow, she would navigate the corridors of the palace, flashing a perfect smile as she played the role of the perfect doll, dazzling everyone with her flawless performance.

She closed off the ink paste and washed her brush, thinking that she was content and that was all that mattered. Then, in minutes, she left for her bed, her feet making a soft patter in each movement as they kissed the ground, with only the guidance of the little plate lantern. And she drifted off into the night, to seek comfort in a dreamless rest.

For the first time, she could close her eyes peacefully, without the fear of men trying to get into her through her locked doors. Without crying with an empty stomach; and without filling buckets and buckets of hot tears. Tonight she was only the heavenly maiden, the commoners worshipped as they went to bed.

It was over now, and she should be happy.