Chapter 5:Shadows Over Happiness

For a time, life felt almost perfect. Lian was the light of their home, her laughter filling the once-quiet halls. Mei and Kai had found a rhythm—no longer just partners bound by duty, but a true family. Kai spent more time at home, often returning early from his work with the village council just to hold his daughter. Mei, despite the demands of motherhood, still found moments of peace in tending to the tea fields, knowing she was building something for their child's future.

Yet, happiness was a delicate thing, and soon, cracks began to form.

It started with whispers—faint murmurs in the marketplace, cautious glances in the village square. At first, Mei dismissed them as gossip, the kind that always followed families of standing. But then, one evening, as she prepared tea in the courtyard, Kai returned home with a troubled expression.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice unusually tense.

Mei set down the teapot. "What's wrong?"

Kai exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "There's trouble in the council. Some of the elders believe my father's debts should be repaid—by me."

Mei's brows furrowed. She knew Kai's father had once been a respected figure in the village, but before his passing, he had made poor investments, leaving behind unfinished business. "But that debt was forgiven years ago," she said carefully.

Kai gave a bitter chuckle. "So we thought. But now that we've built a home, now that we have Lian… some see it as an opportunity. They think I should sacrifice land, or worse—" He hesitated, his hands clenching into fists. "They suggested we sell a portion of the tea fields."

Mei's breath caught. The tea fields had been in her family for generations. They weren't just a source of income—they were her legacy. The thought of losing them sent a chill down her spine.

"No," she said firmly. "That's not an option."

Kai met her gaze, something stormy flickering behind his eyes. "I know. But we need to find another way before they force our hand."

As if financial troubles weren't enough, Mei soon found herself facing a more personal battle.

One afternoon, as she carried Lian through the village square, a group of women gathered near the well fell silent as she passed. Mei felt their stares before she heard their hushed voices.

"…doesn't truly belong here."

"…a wife chosen for convenience, not love."

"…if it weren't for the child, would he have stayed?"

Mei tightened her grip on Lian, forcing herself to keep walking. She had known from the beginning that some in the village questioned her place by Kai's side. She had been the daughter of a tea merchant, not a noblewoman. Their marriage had been arranged out of duty, not romance. But after everything they had been through—after building a home, a life, a family—did they still see her as an outsider?

That night, as she sat beside Lian's crib, watching her daughter sleep peacefully, Mei felt a deep, unsettling weight in her chest.

She had thought life would only get better. She had thought their love—however unspoken—would be enough.

But some storms could not be outrun.

And soon, she and Kai would be forced to face them together—or risk losing everything they had fought for.