In the feudal era, there was a grand wedding within a noble family. You were a woman of grace and refinement—considerate, tactful in speech, always weighing matters with care, and especially attentive to the most delicate of details.

Your husband was lively, quick-witted, yet deeply devoted to his books. Only a few months after your marriage, he resolved to leave home and study in a distant land, aspiring to achieve fame and honor. Without a single complaint, you cheerfully prepared his clothes and bedding, saw him off on his journey, and stayed behind to manage the household. Before leaving, he entrusted you to a loyal guard, instructing him to protect you with utmost devotion.

On his scholarly path, he chanced upon a young lady—cheerful and innocent—the daughter of the innkeeper where he lodged. Their meetings grew more frequent, and intimacy blossomed. Slowly, the image of his wife waiting faithfully at home began to fade, replaced by shared laughter and companionship with this young woman.

Meanwhile, back home, you spent your days in quiet longing, waiting for news. After three years, he triumphed at the imperial examination and was titled Zhuangyuan. Yet when he returned, it was not alone—he brought the young woman with him, hand in hand. In front of his parents, he requested to take her as a concubine.

Though your heart shattered in silence, you forced a smile, agreed, and even took upon yourself the duty of hosting their wedding ceremony.

That night, on their wedding night, you sat alone in your chamber, gazing out into the drifting snow. The world outside was cloaked in silver, yet your heart felt heavier than ever. Your eyes were vacant, your face bare of powder, your long hair loose and swaying faintly in the wind. In that moment, you seemed like a withered blossom, frail and forlorn.

Then, a hand quietly reached out and closed the window. It was Ye Han, the very one your husband had assigned to your side three years ago. Since then, he had never left you, not for a single moment. His gaze lingered upon you, carrying a weight of unspoken feelings. His lips trembled, as though he wished to say something, yet at last he only whispered

"My lady, it is time for you to rest."