Here is my newest story. I typically like only to write happy endings, this one is however, not one. This is a story that takes place within a story I am to release later. It will be 19-20 chapters long, maybe a little less.
Please leave feedback! ~
In the rear courtyard a little maid moves back and forth sweeping the fallen snow, making way for the masters to step.
As her hands move the broom the snow is swept off to the side creating a clear path.
Her straight nose is pink from the cold, sniffles and shivering steps are the only sounds in the empty courtyard. It's cold, but she does not complain.
Her look? She is ordinary. Her face has two dark eyes, clear from worldly desires, a straight little nose and an ever slightly curved little mouth. Her body looks like a straight plank except for those two-little peach like curves on her chest. Her two-elegant small white hands are callused from hard work and her two small little feet are always in pain from constantly moving about.
Her looks are pretty but not more so than others, just ordinary.
Her redeeming quality is her temperament. She is of a mentality that always goes with the flow and has a hard time saying no. If she is told go west she won't dare go east. If she is told sweep here, she sweeps there, if she is told to do a job, she does the work even with no reward. Viewed in a negatively light, this is the characters of a pushover. Viewed in a positive light, this is the ideal character of a virtuous and gentle lady.
Behind a pillar stand a young master. Quietly. watching the servant girl. "Cang Xi," he sighs out, his eyes following the girl's every move with religious precision.
This young master is the second son of a powerful official and the only legitimate born son. He is everything Cang Xi is not.
He is bright with a fiery personality, outstandingly handsome, wealthy, firm in character, and most of all completely, totally and irrevocably in love with one Cang Xi.
This young master hiding behind a pillar is Xiao Xin Yu.
The young master sighs again as he watches the girl sweeping. He knows she is not beautiful but to him she is the most perfectly beautiful lady he has ever seen. To him no other shines as brightly. She is his sun, his rain, his spring, she is everything.
For two years he has held himself back, quietly watching her grow up and work hard. Now he is seventeen and she is sixteen.
This young master wants nothing more than to make her his bride.
But he cannot.
He is a master she is a lowly servant. At most he can only force her to debase herself and submit to being a concubine or a bed warmer.
But, how can he force her to do something so humiliating. To always be looked down on, perhaps be bullied by the first wife, any of her children would be illegitimate, she would be someone who could never proudly stand by his side. She would always be no better than a servant for her whole life.
This he cannot do, not when he loves her so dearly. What he sorely wants is to give her an identity. The identity of his legal and only most beloved wife.
So, he endures and quietly watches her from afar. For her he has curved his fiery personality, restraining himself from simply snatching her to his side. For her he has stood behind a pillar for two years, silently watching her. For her, he would do anything within his power, but he is running out of patience.
Still he endures, and she remains none the wiser.