Chapter 14 – A Gift Clad in Blue

A small ray of light pierced through the gaps of a partially cracked curtain, landing on Yun Jingfei’s cheek.

She groaned softly, squeezing her eyes shut and burrowing deeper beneath the covers, savouring the lingering warmth and the strange, inviting scent woven into the satin sheets.

She drew in a deep breath, letting the haze of sleep cradle her for a moment longer, until reality shattered the fragile peace.

Her eyes flew open, and she flung the covers aside in a single, frantic motion, exposing her vulnerable form to the morning light.

She remembered falling asleep in her wedding gown, but now she was down to her last layer. Only a small amount of cloth, used as underwear, exposed the entirety of her injuries.

The entire left side of her body bore the scars, echoing the devastation etched across her face. Her skin was a landscape of peaks and valleys, hardened and warped where fire had melted it.

It was a gruesome sight, but one she had grown to reluctantly accept.

She had no other choice.

Once she realized her state of undress, she covered herself up to her neck with the thin sheet and began scanning the room.

With sunlight now streaming in, replacing the ghostly glow of moonlight and polished stones, she could finally take in the opulence of the bedroom around her.

It was no match for the grandeur of the palace from her youth, yet it felt warmer, more inviting than the icy marble halls she once called home—especially with this new, appealing scent.

The cloying sweetness she once loathed had faded, swept away and replaced by a savoury, mouthwatering aroma that lingered in the air.

Her stomach’s growl cut through the chorus of birds and whispering wind, a stark reminder that life stubbornly pressed on.

She was still alive and needed sustenance.

How long has it been? she thought to herself, saliva pooling at the corner of her dry lips.

Ever since she had been told she was to marry someone chosen for her, Yun Jingfei had all but given up on life. She didn’t find the strength to keep on living, much less the desire to eat.

For weeks, the servants in charge of her well-being had force-fed her in the vain hope of keeping her alive long enough for her to go through with the ceremony. And when it would eventually all come back up, they would just cram even more down her throat despite her weak protest.

These past weeks had been hell, both physically and mentally, and she had been tired—tired of it all. There was only one place her so-called family hadn’t violated, the only remaining value she still had, but now…

Eyes narrowed, Yun Jingfei swiftly scanned the sheets, but quickly sighed in relief when she discovered they remained rather clean.

He had kept his promise, resisting the lure of the fragrance. She clutched the bracelet on her wrist, her eyes softening with unexpected gratitude.

But relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by a familiar ache. Across from the bed, a massive mirror stretched from floor to ceiling, dominating the wall.

Her hideous form was reflected in its entirety, her trauma laid bare.

She knew the only reason that man had reacted to her even the slightest bit was due to coercion. Without that scent to alter his judgement, he surely wouldn’t have graced her current self with a single look.

Even now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Had he forsaken her already?

Carefully, she wriggled out of bed, using the covers to shield her bare skin. Taking a few steps, she noticed a peculiar object in the corner of the bedroom.

A wooden stand with a dress draped over it, displaying it.

Yun Jingfei couldn’t take her eyes off it.

It was breathtaking. She had never seen fabric so exquisite, its colour a deep, mysterious blue that reminded her of her own hair—almost black, yet shimmering with hidden depths.

The dress was unusual too; its asymmetry made it distinct. The left side was long, designed to fully cover the limbs. The sleeve was tight up to the elbow, then loosened toward the wrist, covering even the hand, while a long skirt embroidered in dark gold covered only the left leg.

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The right side was cut off at the shoulder, exposing much skin, while the skirt ended mid-thigh on the right.

To the side were also high-collared boots that reached mid-shin, matching the dress perfectly, be it in colour or overall vibe.

It was flawless, yet Yun Jingfei’s hands trembled at the thought of wearing it. She felt unworthy of such beauty.

Instead, she sought the inner lining of her wedding dress to have at least something over her undergarment, but she couldn’t find it anywhere.

In fact, the entire thing was gone. The only piece of clothing in the entire room was the dress that now stood before her, as if telling her to put it on.

She hesitated.

A distinct sound came from beyond this room: metal striking metal, as well as a fire mid-burn. There was also a meaty smell wafting from the open door.

It was clear someone was cooking, yet she couldn’t help but wonder who it was. Usually, in such a situation, meals would arrive ready to eat; there was no need to cook. And with the formation cutting them off from the outside world, where would one even find ingredients?

Yun Jingfei took a step toward the door, curious, but stopped herself quickly, looking down at her state of undress, then back to the dress that seemed to call out to her.

Her face clouded with doubt, but she surrendered. The fear of being seen like this outweighed her sense of unworthiness.

She put on the dress, piece by piece.

To her surprise, the dress was crafted for comfort. The fabric was both sturdy and supple, gliding over her skin and soothing her burns—a gentle contrast to the suffocating wedding gown from the night before.

The memory of heavy layers and chafing seams sent a shiver through her. Uncomfortable hardly began to describe it.

She spun before the towering mirror, marvelling at how perfectly the dress hugged her frame, as if it had been tailored with her alone in mind.