Xia walked slowly toward the flower room, her heart heavy, her hand on her stomach. The jasmine was a bittersweet reminder of her secret. She had been a ghost in Zhenting's life, haunting him without his realization. She entered the conservatory, the air thick with the fragrance of jasmine, and began to arrange the flowers for the gala, each stem a painful reminder of the night that had irrevocably changed her life.
Outside, the storm raged, mirroring the tempest in her heart. The wind howled, and rain lashed against the glass, creating a surreal soundscape within the peaceful conservatory. She carefully snipped a wilting petal, her mind drifting back to the blacked-out city and to Zhenting's sandalwood scent.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and died, plunging the conservatory into darkness. Xia gasped, her hand flying to her throat. Blackout. The perfect ominous beginning for Belle's last play.
A moment later, a flashlight beam cut through the darkness. It was Zhenting. His face, etched with worry, was partially illuminated by the stark light. "Xia? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "Just startled."
He moved closer, the beam of the flashlight dancing across the jasmine blossoms. The scent seemed to intensify in the darkness, filling the space between them. "I wanted to talk to you before tomorrow," he said, his voice low and gravelly.
"There's nothing to talk about, Mr. Lu," Xia replied, avoiding his gaze. "Tomorrow is your engagement gala. I'm sure you have many things to oversee."
He stepped closer, his shadow looming over her. The flashlight beam landed squarely on her face, revealing the fatigue and sadness etched in her features. "Xia... please. Don't pretend you don't know what's happening."