Xuanling thought she heard her mother's voice — a frantic whisper calling out to her in the darkness. But was it really her? The voice was clear, yet something felt profoundly off. Instead of the tender nickname "Ling'er" that her parents had used since infancy, it called her "Fourth Miss." Why such formality? Had her mother been gone so long that she had forgotten the name she once cherished? No… wait. Her mother was dead. Yes, dead for years. This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream.
With sudden clarity, Xuanling's eyelids snapped open, and the world rushed back in — the soft morning light filtering through the lattice windows of Cui Hall, the faint scent of fresh herbs lingering in the air, and the quiet rustle of silk as someone moved nearby.
"Fourth Miss?" A'bao's voice called softly, standing just a few steps from her bedside, her expression gentle but alert.
"A'bao?" Xuanling murmured, still half-caught in the haze of sleep. 'I must miss my mother so much to mistake A'bao's voice for hers,' she thought, a quiet ache blooming in her chest.
"Good morning, Fourth Miss," A'bao and Yu'er greeted in unison, their voices soft and synchronized as they stood ready at the foot of the bed.
Xuanling simply nodded, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms to erase the last lingering traces of the dream. The morning air felt cool against her skin, carrying the subtle fragrance of the lotions and oils her maids would soon apply.
"Quick, Yu'er, draw the Fourth Miss a warm bath," A'bao instructed. Yu'er nodded obediently and hurried away toward the bathing chamber, her footsteps light on the polished wooden floor.
"A bath? This early?" Xuanling raised a delicate brow, still seated on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, Fourth Miss," A'bao replied, handing her a twig chewed at one end until it frayed into soft, fibrous bristles — the simple tool noblewomen used for cleaning their teeth.
"Do I have anything important to do today?" Xuanling's voice already carried a note of weariness, though the day had barely begun. She reluctantly took the twig and shoved it into her mouth, chewing slowly while awaiting A'bao's answer.
"Yes, Fourth Miss. Your father wishes to meet you this morning for tea," came the reply. A'bao moved efficiently around the room, fetching clean, warm clothes for her to change into after the bath.
"He's probably already waiting, Fourth Miss. You know how punctual he is." A'bao's words drifted from nearby as she folded a fresh inner robe, prompting Xuanling to sigh inwardly. 'When will Father ever stop stressing me out?!'
She finished with the twig shortly after, spitting discreetly into a small basin, and stood to let A'bao begin straightening the bedding. The silk sheets whispered under A'bao's practiced hands.
"Fourth Miss?" A'bao called again, catching her attention as she lifted the top layer of bedding and spotted the mask lying carelessly atop the mattress.
"Hm?" Xuanling turned, instinctively following her maid's gaze to the mask. "Oh my! How could I be so careless?" she hissed under her breath, quickly snatching it up. She crossed the room to her bookshelf, reaching for a particular volume on the top rack. She pulled it aside and retrieved a small, ornate box hidden carefully behind it.
She removed a single hairpin from her own hair — the one she never took off, even during performances. It was her mother's last gift: the hairpin, the box it unlocked, and the mask itself. It felt as though her mother was both encouraging her to keep dancing and warning her to lock everything away properly — or perhaps to hide her true identity. Xuanling always found the mixed message confusing, but she wasn't ready to dwell on it now.
She thrust the sharp point of the hairpin into the box's delicate keyhole and twisted it slowly. The lock clicked open with a soft, satisfying sound. Carefully, she placed the mask inside, closed the lid, and returned the box to its hiding place behind the book, arranging everything exactly as before.
"Your bath is ready, Fourth Miss," Yu'er announced, drawing her attention back to the present.
The maids helped her remove her nightclothes and slip into a lightweight bathing robe. She did not linger long in the warm, scented water — the steam carrying notes of jasmine and medicinal herbs — before they hurried to assist her out and into fresh undergarments. They dried her skin with a soft towel, applying soothing lotions and lightly scented oils that left her skin glowing and fragrant. Then they helped her with the layers of clothing A'bao had prepared.
Today's choice was a graceful turquoise hanfu that perfectly complemented her fair complexion, the silk flowing elegantly with each movement. Seated comfortably before a polished bronze mirror, A'bao applied her makeup with skillful, gentle strokes while Yu'er helped with her socks and embroidered shoes.
Her long black hair was rolled up into an elegant style and secured with delicate hairpins and silk ribbons. Matching jewelry — subtle jade earrings and a thin silver bracelet — adorned her, making her glow with effortless beauty as she simply sat still, letting them work.
'What would my life be without them?' Xuanling thought gratefully. Her maids had everything arranged — from her daily schedule to her elegance and even her diet. Their help was truly invaluable, and sharing her earnings from performances with them always felt right.
"You're all set, Fourth Miss," A'bao announced with visible relief, stepping back to admire their work.
"Finally!" Xuanling breathed, rising gracefully from the stool.
"Yu'er will accompany you to meet the Left Chancellor," A'bao said, glancing at the younger maid for confirmation. "I still have things to finish here."
"Yu'er?" Xuanling called softly, curious whether her maid was truly willing to face her father's imposing presence. Both knew how terrified Yu'er was of him.
"Of course, Fourth Miss," Yu'er replied with a respectful curtsy, though a flicker of nervousness crossed her eyes.
"Great. Let's go, then."