Written by Yuxin, sung as a lullaby to Lin Rui–a quiet sorrow passed down in ink and song...
The wind & The water
Nobody's son, nobody's daughter,
He's in the wind, she's in the water
A name to soft to be remembered,
A truth too soft to be delivered.
She sees the cracks on palace walls,
Where painted blooms begin to crawl.
He sees her scars, her silent cries,
She hides behind her careful lies.
The rear garden sings like spring,
But cages flowers with clipped wings.
They bloom in silence, wilt in grace–
Too bright to vanish, too lost to chase.
Under the shade of Osmanthus blossoms, the palace looked like a dream–graceful, perfumed, eternal. But behind silk screen and whispered laughter, it is a place where names are lost and traded like coin.
Lin Rui was raised in a temple known more for its secrets than its prayers. She enters the emperor's rear palace as a servant to a dying concubine, but fate–cloaked in poetry, shadows and the scent of old incense–pulls her deeper. Stoic and sharp-eyed, Rui has only ever trusted silence. Until she meets Jian Yi, a quiet palace guard whose kindness is clumsy, but real. And yet even kindness can be dangerous in a world where survival depends on which mask you wear best.
Around them: Concubine Zhen, witha child and a shattered past. Concubine Xiang, whose illness hides more than weakness. Concubine Lian, who mirrors the girl Rui might've become. Concubine Mei, favoured by power but bound by expectation. And someone else... Watching... Waiting...
This is not a tale of thrones. It is a tale of girls who learned to smile whole dying slowly. Of stolen poems, broken lanterns and names that were never written down.
Somewhere beneath osmanthus skies, a lantern is lit. Not for the emperor, not for history–but for the nameless who dared to dream...
Beneath osmanthus skies, names are forgotten and survival wears a painted smile..
A story of hidden love, broken girls and the the weight of names....