---
Su Wanning had not slept well.
Servants tread lightly outside the Main Courtyard, their voices hushed, eyes darting toward the closed doors as if something haunted lay beyond them. Even the birdsong at dawn felt subdued, as if the world itself held its breath.
In the middle of it all, Su Wanning sat before her bronze mirror, letting the comb fall still in her hand.
"Again," she muttered. "Say it again."
The old maid behind her swallowed hard. "The tale… It's spreading quickly, Madam. Granny Zhang's story about the Ghost Bride is being told in every wing now. But—" she hesitated. "It's changed. Somehow, it's begun to match the details in Second Miss's daily routine."
Su Wanning turned slowly, her eyes sharp. "What do you mean?"
The old maid wrung her hands. "The ghost in the story… She was betrothed at birth to a powerful family. Lived in a courtyard of orchids. Her favorite food was plum blossom cakes. Her maid's name—Xiao Yue. People are saying the story was never about Eldest Miss at all."
Su Wanning's breath caught.
Those were Shen Yulan's details.
She stood abruptly, almost knocking over the porcelain tray at her vanity. "Who dared change the story?"
"No one changed it, Madam," the maid whispered. "Granny Zhang says it's the original version… only now people are seeing it differently. As if it's being revealed slowly. Layer by layer."
Su Wanning's heartbeat quickened. Her palms went cold.
This wasn't just a rumor. This was a mirror being held up to her daughter's life—and she hadn't noticed until it was already too late.
And that trembling, grateful girl with tear-filled eyes—Shen Yuhan—was nowhere to be found.
---
By midday, the whispers had turned into silence. Not because the servants stopped talking—no, they simply refused to speak at all near Orchid Courtyard. Eyes lowered, footsteps quickened, and even the most skeptical among them dared not stay too long in the corridors shaded by its towering walls.
"The Orchid Courtyard is cursed," a stable boy whispered, crossing himself. "Her mirror cracked this morning—shattered clean down the middle. They say it wasn't touched."
"Second Miss fainted yesterday too," someone else added, "but when she woke, she muttered things under her breath—and when Xiao Tong tried to repeat it, she said she forgot the words entirely."
"Possessed," a cook breathed. "Just like the ghost bride in Granny Zhang's story."
From laundry maids to gatekeepers, a strange silence wrapped the Orchid Courtyard in fog, thick with fear. Dishes were delivered cold, floors went unswept. Servants began to take the long way around, offering incense at nearby shrines without instruction.
And in the eye of the storm, Shen Yuhan sipped her tea.
---
That afternoon, Osmanthus Courtyard received a guest.
Without warning, Su Wanning stormed in, robes rustling like thunderclouds, face pale but lips tight with fury.
But instead of frightened servants and a girl cowering in fear, she found quiet harmony. Warm sunlight spilled through the windows. A light breeze played through silk curtains. Ah Zhu strummed the guqin lazily in the corner, while Ming'er served tea with a calm, practiced hand.
At the center of it all, Shen Yuhan rose to greet her, dressed in pale moon-silk, hair pinned with understated elegance. Her movements were graceful, her expression gentle.
"Mother," she said softly, as if surprised. "You came."
Su Wanning's eyes darted across the room, trying to find cracks in the illusion. "What have you done?"
Shen Yuhan blinked. "Done? I've stayed in my courtyard, just as you asked."
"Don't play games with me, Yuhan." Su Wanning stepped forward, her voice dropping. "You turned the ghost bride story onto Yulan. Her courtyard. Her habits. Her maid's name. Don't insult my intelligence."
Shen Yuhan tilted her head, feigning thoughtfulness. "That's strange. Granny Zhang has told that story for years, hasn't she? Perhaps the coincidence lies in how Second Sister styled her life after it."
Su Wanning's breath hissed. "You—!"
"But if these tales are disturbing our household," Shen Yuhan continued gently, "perhaps I should speak with the servants. Calm their fears. Of course, that might make me look guilty, wouldn't it? Feeding the fire instead of dousing it…"
Su Wanning stared. There it was again—that soft, submissive voice. But now it cloaked something sharper.
"You said you'd thank me," Su Wanning said coldly. "Is this your gratitude?"
Shen Yuhan's smile didn't reach her eyes. "But I am thankful. Truly. You've shown me the value of a name, Mother. What it means to be feared. And how reputation can be more dangerous than poison."
She took a slow step forward, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for Su Wanning.
"Do you know what makes a ghost terrifying, Mother? Not the death. Not the white robes. It's the silence. The waiting. The moment before she appears. Because no one knows when she'll return—or who she'll come for next."
Su Wanning's throat tightened. Her hands trembled.
Furious she gritted through her teeth, "Aren't you afraid of what your father will do to you once he finds out what you've done to his precious daughter?" Her red eyes zeroed in on Shen Yuhan's smug face.
Hearing her threat, as if by magic, the fear in Shen Yuhan's face returned. Her eyes widened, lips trembled.
"Oh! I'm really scared," she gasped. "Please, Mother… don't tell Father…"
Su Wanning's heart surged with satisfaction. Yes. That was how this girl should behave. Submissive. Afraid.
"I won't tell your father," she said magnanimously. "After all, you and Yulan are both my daughters. Even if you are just a stepdaughter."
She stepped forward, reaching to grab Shen Yuhan's arm. "Come with me. Admit what you've done to your sister. Apologize in front of the servants and stewards—tell them there's no ghost. That you tried to harm her mind."
Her fingers brushed silk—
—and stopped.
Shen Yuhan had stepped back. Her expression wiped clean of fear. In its place: cold amusement.
"You surely know how to jest, Mother," she said softly.
Su Wanning's fingers hung in the air for a beat too long, caught mid-motion, as if the air around Shen Yuhan had turned to ice.
The girl before her was no longer the cowering stepdaughter who had sobbed with gratitude days before. She stood tall, poised like an empress in her own domain, her sleeves gently swaying as she turned to pour tea, completely unbothered by the weight of Su Wanning's fury.
Su Wanning's chest rose and fell. "You insolent—!"
"Is that what you think of me now?" Shen Yuhan interrupted, not even looking up. Her voice was calm, almost conversational. "Insolent? For declining to be paraded before the servants like a criminal?"
"You're lucky I didn't drag you there already," Su Wanning hissed, her voice trembling with tightly coiled rage. "Do you even realize the damage you've caused? Yulan has locked herself in her room since dawn. Her maids are weeping, the servants refuse to enter her courtyard, and the steward's wife is asking if she's possessed! This is your doing!"
"I haven't left Osmanthus Courtyard for days," Shen Yuhan replied softly. "But the story walks, doesn't it?"
She set the teacup down gently and finally met Su Wanning's gaze. "Did you really come here to scold me, Mother, or are you simply afraid? That your carefully woven web is finally starting to unravel?"
Su Wanning's face turned pale. "Mind your words."
"Oh, but I am." Shen Yuhan's lips curled slightly, not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. "I'm being very mindful. After all, if I weren't, I might accidentally say something… regrettable."
Su Wanning stepped forward sharply, her palm twitching as if tempted to slap the girl. But Shen Yuhan didn't flinch.
Instead, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me ask you something, Mother. Do you remember who brought the storyteller into the servant quarters in the first place? Who let Granny Zhang stay and earn her coin with ghost stories? Who let her see the courtyards, the servants, the maids?"
Su Wanning's eyes narrowed.
Shen Yuhan answered for her. "It wasn't me."
The silence between them stretched, thick with implication.
"I told you I was grateful," Shen Yuhan went on. "And I am. I've learned much under your care. For example—how to smile while setting fire to someone's reputation. How to appear blameless while pointing fingers. I've simply taken the lessons to heart."
"You little—!"
"But don't worry," Shen Yuhan interrupted again, this time with that trembling voice, eyes glistening suddenly. "I'll come with you, Mother. I'll apologize to Sister in front of everyone, just as you wish." Her lips trembled, her shoulders shook ever so slightly. "Please don't tell Father. I'm so, so scared…"
Su Wanning's breath slowed, her lips twitching into a satisfied smile.
That's right. That's more like it.
She reached out again to grab Shen Yuhan's wrist.
But this time, Shen Yuhan didn't just step back. She raised her hand slowly and deliberately—as if fending off something unclean—and gave a soft laugh. Cold, brittle.
The expression that followed stripped away all innocence. Her eyes, dark as midnight, glittered with a ruthless clarity that sent a chill crawling up Su Wanning's spine.
"You think I'm still a child you can control with a few threats?" Shen Yuhan said, her voice low and lethal. "You want me to stand before the entire household and declare myself a liar? A manipulative, jealous girl who made up ghost stories? All while Yulan cries and you look on like a benevolent mother?"
Her laughter grew a little louder now, not deranged but sharp with disbelief. "And then what? Father returns in a month or two, hears whispers, and you tell him how I've been unstable lately? How I've bullied my sister? How I should be married off early—or sent away for some spiritual retreat to clear my mind?"
Su Wanning's throat tightened. "You—"
"No, you listen." Shen Yuhan's voice cracked like a whip. "You thought I wouldn't notice. But the accounts, the missing silver, the servants who vanish after asking too many questions… You thought I'd be content to cry in corners while you gutted my mother's dowry and fed my birthright to your precious daughter like scraps from the table."
She took another step closer, closing the distance. "But now? You should be afraid, Madam Su."
Su Wanning's face hardened, but her eyes betrayed unease.
"This is only the beginning," Shen Yuhan said with a faint smile. "I was the ghost in your stories. The girl in the corner you forgot to bury properly. But ghosts don't stay dead. They remember."
Then, with the lightness of someone discussing the weather, she added, "If you're worried about your daughter's reputation… you should pray she can survive it."
The final words struck with a deliberate cruelty.
Su Wanning stared at her, rage boiling under her skin.