"the silent marble"
---
That morning, whose contours had yet to be drawn, as the fingers of light crept tremulously through the windows of the eastern wing of the Liang residence,
a faint knock echoed—like dew etching its name on the surface of stone.
The servant bowed with measured steps, bearing something far heavier than a mere message…
he carried a decree sealed with fate itself.
"Master, there is a matter that requires your presence," he said with a voice that neither trembled nor faltered—
the voice of one long accustomed to carrying the words of kings.
Liang Sun Wu, the indolent heir with a mercurial heart, nearly poured his habitual annoyance like tea over cold marble.
But the imperial insignia stitched into the messenger's shoulder halted him mid-sigh.
His fury cooled, and he waved his hand—a silent signal to leave.
Just before exiting, he paused to straighten the silk blanket draped over the sleeping Shen Tao Hua,
resting like a bud sealed in endless winter.
He turned and walked away, leaving behind the hush of something fragile.
As soon as his steps faded, her lashes lifted.
She stretched upon the pillow like willow branches swaying in the breeze,
muttering softly with a drowsy scoff,
"Ah… obviously off to some wretched tavern again."
She kicked aimlessly at the air, then curled back under the covers, stealing more sleep—
not slumber, but a truce.
---
At the foot of the marble stairs, where shadows danced with morning light,
the servant stood waiting.
"Yes? What brings you?" asked Liang Sun Wu, not even turning.
The servant bowed again, as if kneeling before an unseen riddle:
"His Majesty the Emperor Zhao Wen Yan, and Her Majesty the Empress Zhao Xian Yi,
have summoned you and the young lady Shen Tao Hua for breakfast tomorrow in the Emerald Pavilion."
The heir raised a skeptical brow—What purpose could this serve?
Still, he replied, "Tell His Majesty… I accept."
But his feet did not lead him toward emerald halls,
not yet.
They carried him instead to one of the most infamous taverns in the Imperial Capital,
where his three companions dwelled beneath smoke and sluggish tales—
a place unworthy of the Liang name,
yet somehow fitting him precisely.
---
In the western wing of the residence,
Ru Lan Liang, lady of the household and wife of Liang Jian,
sat beside her husband amidst scrolls of bamboo, calculating the month's earnings
—as if balancing accounts could silence the chaos within her.
She spoke with a voice laced in caution:
"I heard that Her Majesty the Empress Zhao Xian Yi was once close to the girl Tao Hua.
That she protected her from her stepmother's cruelty,
that she used her power to make them tremble… Is such a tale true?"
Liang Jian, eyes still fixed on the bamboo slip,
answered as though reciting an old prophecy:
"It's no rumor… but fact.
Shen Wei, her father, once adored Mei Qian, the girl's mother—his first concubine.
But then, during a meeting with the Five Noble Houses,
they offered him a new companion—Zhang Lihua,
young, stunning, with beauty dipped in venom."
Ru Lan Liang sighed, smoothing the embroidery on her sleeve:
"Poor child… she inherited her mother's sorrow as if it were a crown.
One of their maids once told me—everyone despises the wife.
Even her own daughter resents her.
But the heir, Shen Rui, is said to be noble in heart."
Her husband allowed himself a dry smile, like remembering a candle's last flicker:
"I've met him…
he used to train with our son.
Not in taverns, of course, but in courtyards of sweat and discipline.
He's learned kung fu since he was a child.
They say he'll undo what his father's cruelty built."
Ru Lan Liang lifted her tea to her lips, eyes drifting toward the cherry blossoms outside:
"Even the eldest sister, Shen Meiling, practices archery and rides horseback.
She used to visit us often…
The maids would whisper that our son loved her—was fated to marry her."
Liang Jian laughed bitterly:
"Even with an imperial decree,
I'd rather walk to the Ancestors' Temple than let him marry that girl.
She's insolent… rotten at her core."
Ru Lan Liang chuckled in protest:
"Stop that! Don't speak ill of others."
He took her hand gently and seated her back,
saying:
"But Shen Tao Hua…
Now, she's a fine choice.
The Empress chose wisely.
Still—
Don't you think this marriage is a shield for her?
To protect her from something darker?"
His wife nodded, fear glistening in her eyes:
"A golden cage, that's what marriage is.
And His Majesty… he never acts without purpose.
It's obvious now—he's scattering the focus of the Five Noble Houses.
And us?
We're the trap. The sacrifice."
Silence poured over them like ink.
Until she murmured:
"Do you think Tao Hua knows?"
He smiled again,
his gaze anchoring in hers:
"Do you think she'd accept our son—
a drunk, a child in a man's body—
if she didn't already understand that her life was in danger?
The Empress told her… She had no other path."
Ru Lan Liang fell into thought,
her brow furrowed with quiet grief
—for the girl who must carry burdens carved by another woman's bitterness.
---
By morning light,
Ru Lan Liang and her husband walked to their son's quarters,
where Shen Tao Hua slept still—
a wilted lotus adrift in quiet waters.
The lady of the house bent forward, voice soft:
"Darling, if you still feel dizzy…
you may rest here. I'll prepare a separate room for Liang Sun Wu."
Tao Hua nodded gently,
like a petal consenting to the breeze,
and returned to her slumber.
Shortly after,
Mo Chen, her loyal maid, entered with a lacquered tray.
"My lady," she said gently,
"since you're in your cycle… please eat a little.
You'll suffer again otherwise, like before."
But Shen Tao Hua said nothing.
She stared at the ceiling in silence,
breathing through pain,
until sleep—quiet and cold—took her again.
---