Needed By Him

Chapter 4

Morning light filtered through the delicate silk curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. The fake Qin Ruo stirred, stretching her arms with a satisfied yawn. Her heart raced with excitement as she pushed herself up from the bed, eyes darting to the window. She could hardly wait to explore the world beyond.

In her previous life—wherever that was—everything had been different. But this new world? It was ancient, filled with beauty and mystery. She rushed to the window, pulling back the curtains with a flourish.

The sight took her breath away. Outside, the landscape stretched endlessly, a masterpiece of nature and human craftsmanship. The gardens below were lush with verdant greenery, trees swaying gently in the breeze. A clear stream snaked through the property, its water sparkling under the morning sun. The distant mountains stood tall, draped in mist, creating a perfect backdrop for the grandeur of the estate. It was all so serene, so picturesque, as if the world itself was waiting to be discovered by her.

She smiled widely, practically bouncing in excitement. I’m going out today!

Before she could rush outside, there was a knock at the door. "My lady, it is Li Lei," came the soft voice from outside. The real Qin Ruo, floating nearby, held her breath. Will she be scared of strangers?

The door opened, and Li Lei stepped in. Her gaze immediately found the fake Qin Ruo, and she froze, staring in quiet surprise. Something was different. Her lady had always been distant, aloof, her beauty hidden behind a wall of coldness. But today? She looked radiant.

"My lady," Li Lei said, bowing her head slightly. "I’ve come to help you dress."

The fake Qin Ruo beamed at her, waving her over eagerly. "Of course, come in! I can't wait to see what’s outside!" Her voice was warm, cheerful. Li Lei hesitated for a moment, sensing the change, but something about it felt... right. This was the same face, the same body, but the spirit within it shone with life in a way it never had before. Li Lei’s heart warmed. She’s happy now... this is good.

As she worked on fixing the fake Qin Ruo’s hair, Li Lei found herself smiling too. The real Qin Ruo’s memories flooded into her, and she seamlessly blended into this life she had stolen. She spoke with a familiarity that should have felt foreign to her but didn’t. It was as if she had always belonged.

"Your hair is so smooth, my lady," Li Lei said as she ran her fingers through the dark strands. "And your skin... you look even more beautiful than usual."

The real Qin Ruo’s chest tightened as she hovered nearby, helpless. The fake Qin Ruo was glowing, and vibrant. Her skin, as smooth as porcelain, seemed to reflect the morning light, her eyes bright and lively in a way that made her look utterly transformed. It was her face, but it wasn’t. The real Qin Ruo bit her lips in desperation. This conduct... Her thoughts swirled in frustration.

Li Lei stepped back, satisfied with her work. "My lady, Master is at home today. Perhaps you would like to greet him?"

Normally, the real Qin Ruo would have declined. It wasn’t proper for a woman to wander out of her boudoir without sending word first and waiting for permission. It was an unspoken rule, a mark of etiquette. Yet, before the real Qin Ruo could scream in protest, the fake Qin Ruo lit up.

"Oh, I’d love to!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. "I can’t wait to meet my father!" She grabbed Li Lei’s hands, laughing. "This is going to be so much fun!"

The real Qin Ruo wanted to scream. No! You can’t just—! But her voice didn’t matter here. She was nothing but a spectator, watching her own life unravel.

Li Lei, oblivious to the real Qin Ruo’s despair, smiled fondly at her lady. This new, lively version of Qin Ruo was a breath of fresh air. She was no longer the cold, distant girl she had served all these years.

The fake Qin Ruo practically skipped to the door, her heart racing with anticipation. Each step felt like the beginning of an adventure. Li Lei followed behind, trying to hide her amusement at her lady’s newfound enthusiasm. She had never seen Qin Ruo like this—so carefree, so open. It was as if a veil had lifted from her, revealing a person who had always been hidden beneath layers of restraint.

The real Qin Ruo floated behind them, her presence fading like a wisp of mist in the morning sun. Her fingers twitched in the air, as if trying to grab hold of something, anything, to stop what was happening. But there was no stopping it. She could only watch as the imposter took over her life with ease.

As they descended the grand staircase, the estate’s opulence became even more overwhelming. The polished wood floors gleamed under the warm morning light, and the intricate carvings on the bannisters told stories of their powerful lineage—honor, wealth, and duty. Portraits of ancestors lined the walls, their expressions grave, watching over the house as silent witnesses to the family’s legacy. In this world, one was born to their role, bound by duty, and every action was scrutinized within the unyielding confines of tradition.

At the bottom of the stairs, a figure stood waiting. Minister Qu, her father.

Dressed in the official robes of his station, his imposing form exuded authority. His hair, now touched with streaks of silver, was pulled back in the manner of the Confucian scholars, and his face was a mask of sternness, etched deeply by years of service to the court. He had no intention of seeing his daughter this morning—he had visited briefly the day before, offering her a perfunctory greeting for her birthday. He had fulfilled his obligation as her father, and to him, that had been enough.

But as he looked up and saw his daughter descending the stairs, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, mixed with a trace of confusion. Something was different.

"Father!" The fake Qin Ruo’s voice was warm, yet restrained, careful not to overstep the rigid boundaries of their relationship. She knew better than to ask too many questions or act too unfamiliar in this household.

Minister Qu’s eyes narrowed. He had expected to be alone, quietly preparing for a crucial meeting with the Emperor’s council, but now his daughter stood before him—unusually bright, her face glowing with an energy he hadn’t seen in years. His grip on the scroll in his hand tightened slightly. Qin Ruo had always been a quiet, cold girl, as delicate as a lotus in winter, frail and reserved. But this morning, she was... vibrant.

"Qin Ruo," he said slowly, his deep voice measured, masking his unease. "You are up early. Shouldn’t you be resting after yesterday’s celebration?"

The fake Qin Ruo dipped her head slightly, her expression serene but carrying a warmth that felt entirely new. "I wanted to thank you for the beautiful hairpin, Father," she said, gesturing delicately to the jade ornament nestled in her hair—a gift he had sent as a token for her birthday. "It’s a treasured gift. I feel much better today."

Minister Qu’s eyes flicked to the hairpin, recognizing it as something he had selected without much thought. It was just another piece of jewelry, like countless others he had bestowed upon her over the years, a simple gesture of duty. He had never expected her to acknowledge it so earnestly. His daughter’s tone... her face... even her posture—it was all different. But instead of questioning it, he found himself nodding slowly.

Perhaps, he thought, the girl was finally recovering from her years of fragility. "It was a small token. You’ve been unwell for so long, Qin Ruo. I hadn’t expected you to be so full of life today."

The fake Qin Ruo offered a gentle smile. "I’m grateful for the care you’ve always shown me, Father. I thought a little fresh air would do me good."

Her words, so polite yet so filled with warmth, seemed to pacify him. For a brief moment, Minister Qu hesitated. Had he been wrong about her all these years? He had always viewed his daughter as a distant presence in the family, a porcelain doll too fragile to engage with the world. But this new demeanor—it was refreshing. Perhaps it was the result of her recent recovery from illness. He could not dwell on it further; there were far more important matters demanding his attention.

"Very well," he said, slipping the scroll into his sleeve with a final glance at her. "Take care not to overexert yourself. Remember, your health is still delicate."

The fake Qin Ruo bowed her head, her expression respectful. "I will be careful, Father."

The real Qin Ruo, floating invisibly nearby, could only watch as the scene unfolded. Her lips trembled. How could he not see it? This wasn’t her. Her father, who had barely looked at her all these years, had accepted this imposter without hesitation. He hadn’t even questioned the sudden change in her demeanor. It was as if he didn’t care enough to notice—no one did.

Minister Qu gave a final nod and turned away, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hall. He had an audience with the Emperor to prepare for, and his daughter’s newfound energy was of little consequence to the weightier matters that filled his mind.

The real Qin Ruo’s chest tightened. Her father—so distant, so cold—had accepted this new version of her as if the old one had never mattered. She had spent her life striving to live up to the expectations placed upon her as his daughter, following every rule, every tradition, hoping for a glimmer of acknowledgment, a word of affection. Yet, here she was, erased without a second thought.

Behind her, Li Lei approached with a quiet smile. "My lady," she said, her tone light, "your father seems pleased. It is good to see him smile, even if only briefly."

The fake Qin Ruo turned, offering Li Lei a soft smile in return. "It is, isn’t it? I’ll be careful not to disappoint him."

Li Lei’s eyes softened as she adjusted the folds of her lady’s dress. To her, this transformation in Qin Ruo was nothing short of miraculous. For so long, the young lady had been shrouded in melancholy, her life dictated by frailty. Now, she was bright, full of life—a joy to serve. It felt like a blessing, as if the heavens had finally smiled upon their household.

Neither Li Lei nor Minister Qu questioned the change. To them, it was a gift, a long-awaited turn of fortune. The cold, distant Qin Ruo had melted away, replaced by someone so much more... alive. And that, to them, was a good thing.

But the real Qin Ruo, hovering like a forgotten spirit, felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. She had always been obedient, respectful, and distant because that was what her father had demanded of her. Now, watching this imposter so effortlessly win the affection and approval she had craved for years, tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

And like every other tear she had shed in this household, no one was there to wipe them away.

As Li Lei led the fake Qin Ruo outside into the garden, the real Qin Ruo followed, her presence growing fainter with each passing moment. She had become a ghost in her own life, invisible to the people who should have known her best. The vibrant morning light that illuminated the lush garden, the soft breeze that whispered through the bamboo, all felt so distant, unreachable. This was her home, but it no longer felt like hers.

The fake Qin Ruo lifted her head, her face glowing in the sunlight, while Li Lei fussed over the parasol, ensuring her lady would not be too exposed. The garden stretched out before them, a perfectly manicured landscape of serene beauty, a reminder of the family’s wealth and power. The fake Qin Ruo took a deep breath, drinking in the sight of the world she was now part of.

Meanwhile, the real Qin Ruo, her heart aching with unspoken sorrow, could only watch. She had been erased from her own life, and no one had noticed. Not her father, not Li Lei, not anyone.

The tears continued to fall, but like everything else in her life, they went unnoticed, fading into the ether as the imposter embraced the world that had once been hers.