Genesis Arc - Ch. Three: Caught Red-Handed

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A/N: All rights to the original content are reserved by the respective copyright owner.

DOUBLE UPLOAD! Read "Ch. Two: Blossoming Bonds" first, before reading this chapter just to avoid confusion.

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The golden hues of evening light faded to the cooler shades of twilight as Jingliu's silent silhouette passed through the ornate corridors of her family's mansion. She paused by a grand window, her reflection staring back at her—a caged bird with wings unfurled but nowhere to fly.

"Why must it all be so... suffocating?" Jingliu murmured, tracing the intricate patterns on the window pane.

Her chamber door creaked open, and she stepped into the expansive room that felt more like a display than a personal sanctuary. She flopped onto her bed, a small cloud of dust rising and catching in the dimming light.

"This isn't me," she protested to the empty room, her voice a blend of defiance and sorrow.

She grabbed a decorative cushion, holding it before her as if it were an audience to her innermost thoughts. "Look at you, so plump and golden. Do you not tire of just being... pretty?" Jingliu spoke to the cushion, then tossed it aside, her gaze hardening.

The room was silent, save for the soft rustling of the leaves outside her window. It was in this quietude that her thoughts unspooled, unraveling the day's encounters.

"Y/N..." she whispered into the stillness. The name felt foreign yet familiar on her lips.

A cascade of memories rushed forth—the tension in the forest, the ease of conversation, the shared meal, and the simple kindness that was so unlike the calculated gestures she knew from her world.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the canopy above her. "I suppose you weren't entirely boring today," she admitted to the imagined specter of Y/N in her room.

The moonlight cast shadows across her face, creating a mosaic of light and dark. "But why did it have to be a boy?" She groaned softly, the complication of her feelings tangling like the vines on the forest floor.

"Why does it matter?" She challenged the question as if it were an adversary.

Silence answered her, the moonlight unwavering, the shadows unflinching.

Jingliu pulled her pillow closer, her voice softening to a whisper, "A friend who sees me, not the gold or the silks or the... expectations."

Her eyelids fluttered, the first tendrils of sleep drawing near. "Just me... as Jingliu," she sighed, her last thought before succumbing to dreams—a world where friendship was simple, and her heart's whispers didn't echo quite so loudly.

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As the first tendrils of morning light crept through the heavy drapes, Jingliu's eyelids fluttered open. A rare, unguarded smile graced her lips, the remnants of a dreamless peace still lingering. Her pale hair lay in a tousled halo around her head, a testament to the night's stillness.

With a soft sigh, the tranquility of her waking moment faded, giving way to the reality of her gilded cage. Resigned, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and began the meticulous process of preparing for the day. The ritual was silent and solitary, without the fuss of maids or the chatter of servants—a noble's morning distilled to its most personal essence.

She donned garments of grey and blue, the fabric rich yet understated, a silent rebellion against the ostentatiousness expected of her station. With a last glance in the mirror to ensure every fold and crease was in place, she braced herself to face the day.

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