Chapter 13: Echoes of the past

The long dining hall had grown quiet, save for the soft clinks of porcelain being cleared by the house staff. The lanterns lining the walls flickered gently, casting long shadows that danced across the floor like memories.

Ye Mei offered a small smile as the last of the guests excused themselves, each nodding respectfully to Old Master Chen, who sat like a statue at the head of the table, his cane resting beside him and his aged eyes sharper than ever.

"Xinyi," he called as she passed behind him, "Take Ye Mei on a proper tour of the estate. Let her know what kind of family she's part of now."

"Yes, Grandfather." Chen Xinyi grinned as she turned to Ye Mei. "Come on. You've only seen the surface."

Ye Mei gave a polite bow to the Old Master, then turned to look at Chen Yixuan—but he wasn't looking at her. His gaze was locked with his grandfather's, and a faint tension hovered between them like smoke.

"Yixuan," the old man said, tapping the base of his cane against the floor. "You stay. We have things to talk about."

Ye Mei hesitated a second longer, eyes flicking between them, but Chen Xinyi looped her arm with hers and gave her a gentle tug. "Don't worry. They're just going to talk business. Trust me—you're about to see the real Chen estate."

And with that, the two women disappeared down the hallway, their footsteps echoing off the marble floors.

---

Chen Yixuan remained standing as the hall emptied.

"You look like your father when you're angry," Old Master Chen muttered, pushing himself up with his cane and nodding for his grandson to follow. "Come. Walk with me."

They moved through a side corridor that opened into the rear courtyard—a place few were allowed. The moonlight spilled silver onto the aged stones, and bonsai trees, sculpted by generations of Chen hands, lined the garden like silent witnesses.

"You didn't want this marriage," the old man began, voice low and gravelly. "I know. You made it quite clear."

Chen Yixuan said nothing.

"But you accepted it anyway. Because you owe me."

Still, no reply. Only the sound of footsteps crunching gently over gravel.

"I watched you tonight," the old man said. "You looked at her differently."

That made Chen Yixuan stop. He turned his head, shadows casting sharp lines across his face. "It doesn't matter how I look at her. It's too late for all that."

Old Master Chen chuckled softly. "You sound like a man mourning a love he never gave himself the chance to feel."

Chen Yixuan clenched his jaw. "She deserved better."

"She still does," the old man said, stopping near a small koi pond and peering down into the rippling water. "So give it to her. Don't wait until regret is all that's left."

---

Meanwhile, Chen Xinyi was leading Ye Mei through the grand inner halls of the estate. The tone was light, but there was something nostalgic in her voice—as if the house itself whispered secrets into her ears.

"This," she said dramatically, throwing open a set of double doors, "was once my mother's tea room. She used to invite all the ladies from the noble families. It smelled like jasmine and gossip."

Ye Mei smiled softly, her fingers brushing along a carved rosewood table. "It's beautiful."

"She would've liked you," Xinyi added, walking ahead. "She always said the strongest women are the ones who know how to be kind in a world that punishes softness."

They continued down another hall—this one filled with old paintings of ancestors, their eyes stern and distant.

"Each generation adds something to the estate," Xinyi explained. "My father built the west wing. My grandfather added the moon pavilion. And my great-great-grandmother?" She pointed to a painting of a woman with sharp eyes and a fan resting at her side. "She added the library."

"The library?" Ye Mei asked, intrigued.

Xinyi grinned and opened a discreet wooden door at the end of the corridor.

Inside, Ye Mei's breath caught.

Rows upon rows of ancient books filled the tall shelves. The scent of old paper and ink lingered in the air like incense. A spiral staircase led to a second floor lined with scrolls and antique maps. In the center, a grand skylight framed the moon perfectly overhead.

"I used to hide in here when I didn't want to study," Xinyi admitted. "I bet you'd like it here. You're the quiet type."

Ye Mei ran her fingers along the spines of the books. "It feels like a place where time stands still."

Xinyi turned serious for a moment. "This house remembers everyone who walks through it. And it sees things others miss."

Ye Mei looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I saw the way my brother looked at you tonight," Xinyi said softly. "Like a man trying to catch a falling star and realizing too late it was already slipping from his hands."

Ye Mei looked down, her voice a whisper. "I don't know what we are now. I don't think he does either."

Xinyi gave her a thoughtful look. "Maybe. But if you're still here, and he's still watching you like that… then maybe there's still time."

---

Back in the courtyard, Chen Yixuan stood alone as his grandfather slowly returned to the main hall.

The words echoed in his mind—"Don't wait until regret is all that's left."

His gaze lifted to the moon above, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself wonder:

What if he hadn't wasted all those days? What if she hadn't been a duty—but a choice?

And in the quiet, for just a moment, he let himself imagine the future.

One where she stayed.

And he no longer looked away.