The ride home was quiet.
The wind fluttered past Jia Lan's ears, carrying the faint scent of cherry blossoms and something deeper—resentment, perhaps. As the wheels bumped along the cobbled road, her fingers rested over her lap, cool and still. But her thoughts twisted like threads being knotted tighter and tighter.
By the time she stepped into the grand entrance of the Jia household, her slippers barely made a sound.
"Lan Lan, is that you?" Her mother, Lin Shunhua, called gently from the salon.
Jia Lan exhaled and stepped inside.
The golden afternoon light poured in through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the antique vases, calligraphy scrolls, and the faint steam rising from freshly poured tea. Her father, Jia Chenghai, was reading the newspaper; her eldest brother, Jia Zhe, leaned against the carved mantle, half-listening to the radio. Even Second Brother, Jia Wei, was lounging near the tea tray, poking a peeled pomelo slice.
"Ah, our little swan returns from her luncheon," Xu Li, her elegant eldest sister-in-law, said teasingly as she reached for another cup.
"Did they make you recite poetry, or were you too busy fending off admirers?" Yao Jing, her second sister-in-law, joked with a grin.
Jia Lan set down her handbag carefully, then looked at them all.
"They tried to set me up," she said calmly.
The room went still.
"Who did?" her father asked, lowering the newspaper just slightly.
"Liu Fenfang and Shen Yimin," she replied. "They brought someone—some ministry clerk—to the charity luncheon and tried to push him at me. Without a word of warning. Without my consent."
Yao Jing's mouth fell open. "What?!"
"Set you up?" Jia Wei echoed, eyebrows shooting up. "For what? Marriage? Or were they offering you in exchange for a job promotion?"
"Both," Jia Lan said coldly. "I wasn't supposed to see it. But I did."
Lin Shunhua placed her teacup down a little harder than usual. "They dared to use your name like that? At a luncheon hosted by the Mayor's wife?"
"I don't need their connections," Jia Lan said, voice steady but quiet. "Our family has enough influence of its own. Why should I be bartered like a banquet dessert?"
Xu Li crossed her legs, eyes gleaming. "They were trying to curry favor with someone above them by using you as a ladder."
Jia Chenghai's face darkened, his voice calm but razor sharp. "Disrespectful. Not only to you, but to us."
"I didn't embarrass them publicly," Jia Lan said, smoothing her sleeve. "But I made it very clear that I wasn't interested. Not in the man. And certainly not in their methods."
Jia Zhe finally spoke, his tone cool. "They think they're clever. Social climbers always do. But pulling stunts like this in front of party officials? They're lucky you didn't shame them on the spot."
"I almost did," Jia Lan muttered. "It wasn't just presumptuous—it was insulting. I'm not their friend. I'm not family. What gave them the right to offer me up like I was a favor to return?"
"You handled it well," her mother said firmly. "But next time, let them be embarrassed. Loudly."
"Is this the same Fenfang who couldn't look us in the eye at the Spring Festival?" Jia Wei scoffed. "Some people borrow a cup of fame and think they own the teapot."
Yao Jing laughed, then narrowed her eyes. "And that husband of hers? Did he say anything?"
"Nothing helpful," Jia Lan said. "He stood by her side and let it happen. I suppose that's what they do—support each other in stepping on others."
Xu Li reached out and gently placed a hand on Jia Lan's.
"You are not a pawn in their little village-to-city game, Lan Lan. You are a Jia. And your light doesn't need anyone's reflection."
Jia Lan finally smiled, the knot inside her loosening. "I know."
There was a brief pause before Jia Wei threw a pomelo slice into his mouth and said, "Next time I see them, I'll arrange a setup for them. Let's see how they like being offered to the cooking aunties union."
Everyone burst into laughter.
Even Jia Chenghai allowed a rare chuckle. "Let's not stoop to their level. We're not desperate."
"No," Jia Lan said. "But it's funny how people with no manners think they have leverage."
Her family nodded in agreement. Her mother poured her a fresh cup of osmanthus tea. "Rest, daughter. You stood your ground. That's enough for today."
Jia Lan curled onto the couch, warm from the support around her.
She wasn't alone. She had her name, her pride, her people.
Let Fenfang and Shen Yimin chase their borrowed dreams.
Jia Lan? She didn't need chasing. She walked with her head held high—because she knew where she came from.
And she knew where she was going.