The Bloodied Peony's Vow

In the shadowed corners of the Forbidden City, where the scent of sandalwood mingles with the musty air of ancient walls, there lived a princess named Li Ying, whose beauty was said to rival the moon. Her father, the Emperor, had decreed that she must marry a noble prince to secure an alliance with the neighboring kingdom. Yet, in the heart of this opulent palace, a forbidden love blossomed—a love that defied the very structure of the empire.

Li Ying’s heart belonged to a lowly page, a man named Hong, whose quiet charm and unyielding spirit had captured her imagination. They spoke in whispers beneath the moonlit sky, their voices echoing through the empty gardens and over the stone pathways of the palace. It was a love that thrived in the darkness, unobserved by the world that sought to crush it.

Hong, though, was no ordinary page. His family was once part of the royal court, but a political coup had left them destitute. Despite his station, he possessed a mind that yearned for more, a spirit that defied the chains of his position. His love for Li Ying was not only for her beauty but also for her spirit, her willingness to defy the world for love.

As the wedding approached, the air was thick with tension. The noble prince, a man of ambition and cold demeanor, was to become Li Ying’s husband. He was not chosen for his heart, but for his family’s wealth and influence. The Forbidden City, a place of beauty and opulence, was now a prison of expectations and duty.

One night, as the moon hung low and the stars shone brightly, Li Ying met Hong in the moonlit garden. "Hong," she whispered, "what is to become of us?" Her voice was laced with the fear of what was to come, the fear of a love that could not survive the light of day.

Hong's eyes met hers, steady and determined. "We must escape, Li Ying. We must find a way to be together. The Forbidden City may hold us prisoner, but love will set us free."

And so, in the days that followed, they hatched a plan. They would flee the city together, leaving behind their titles, their families, and the lives they had been destined to live. But as the day of the wedding approached, their plans were discovered.

The noble prince, who had been suspicious all along, had ordered spies to watch the princess. The betrayal was swift and cruel. Li Ying was confined to her quarters, her heart broken. Hong was taken into custody, and his fate was sealed.

On the eve of the wedding, as Li Ying stood before the mirror, her reflection a portrait of sorrow, a bloodied peony appeared in her hand. It was a gift from Hong, a symbol of their love's resilience even in the face of despair. "Remember, Li Ying," he had written in a note tucked inside the flower, "love is like the peony—it may be bloodied, but it never fades."

The next morning, the wedding went ahead as planned. Li Ying stood by her prince, a facade of happiness painted across her face. But as she exchanged vows, her thoughts were elsewhere, with Hong, who was now being executed for his crime of loving her.

As the sun rose, a crowd gathered at the execution ground, eager to witness the downfall of the man who dared to love the princess. Hong stood before them, a look of peace on his face, as the executioner approached. But before the blade fell, the sky turned a deep crimson, and a peony of blood-red flowers bloomed in the air.

Li Ying watched, her heart aching, as her love met his fate. In that moment, she knew their love had triumphed, even in death. The bloodied peony was their symbol, a testament to their undying bond.

And so, Li Ying’s love for Hong remained a secret, a whispered tale among the palace walls. Her heart, however, was free, forever bound to the memory of the man who had shown her the true power of love—a love that could withstand the rigors of the Forbidden City and the whims of emperors.