2 Act I: A Renaissance

The Ni manor felt different.

No. Rather, it was only Ni Ailang's courtyard that was odd to the servants.

But no one except them noticed.

The guests walked past its neat bamboo garden and paused to breathe in the air - cool with a hint of plum blossoms that grew in the back - and then sighed at the scenery. The elegant architecture, built with polished wood and elaborate carvings, would still enrapture new staff. The maids were careful not to let the tea sets clatter, to avoid ruining the serenity of the accommodation. The butlers softened their steps, as not to disrupt the sound of the nearby stream. Indeed, Ni Ailang's courtyard was the closest thing to heaven for those who served the Ni household.

Everything seemed perfect...yet it wasn't.

No servant could specify the exact problem - they all just felt that they had to be on their best behaviour. When asked why their thoughts would unconsciously float back to a year ago to the night when Ni Ailang had miraculously awakened. Since then, it was as if their mistress was not someone they had known for the past 16 years, but someone they needed to prove their competence to once again - someone new.

They were right of course, even if they didn't know it.

❀ ✿

Chen Lei had been the personal handmaiden for Ni Ailang since she was 7 years old. Born to a poor family and sold into slavery, Chen Lei was left to fend for herself at a tender age. Under the tutelage of an older maid, she learned how to be cunning, sly, and most of all, loyal. She went from being a simple errand girl to a high-ranking maidservant within a year.

The details were blurry by now. The years had eased memories of hunger pangs and begging on the streets, humiliation and harsh punishments. They had replaced her bony frame with elegant curves and a graceful walk, her lifeless eyes with a proud gleam. She witnessed schemes and deaths, felt silks sent from the Middle East, and drank tea from fine jade. Chen Lei saw many of life's beauties, but none could compare to Ni Ailang.

Seemingly carved by the hands of fairies, Ni Ailang's face was the closest thing to perfection Chen Lei could imagine. When she smiled, her rosy lips would stretch lazily and two dimples would appear mischievously. Her nose was tall and thin, with a slight hook at the end, and her eyebrows were long with a slight sense of heroism. And as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtains and awoke Ailang from her sleep, she revealed her inky black eyes.

Chen Lei bobbed her head in a respectful greeting. She looked towards the other maids in the room and ordered a bath to be prepared.

Ni Ailang had 3 personal maidservants: Chen Lei, Chen Yu, and Chen Feng. When bought by the Ni household, their names had been voided and Ailang gave them new names. It had been raining heavily that day, and so they were named after the thunder, rain, and wind respectively. At the time, Chen Lei had thought it was a silly and childish gesture on Ni Ailang's part, but after spending time around her mistress, she doubted that was the case. Ni Ailang rarely did anything without a purpose. She had most likely named them after a storm so they could convey the resounding power that lay within the thunder strikes, torrents of rain, and howling winds. After all, they were her servants.

Chen Lei made sure she lived up to her name.

As she brought out Ailang's clothes for the day, Chen Yu brewed some tea and Chen Feng had gone out to supervise the setting of breakfast. Their movements were rhythmic, efficient, and quiet. Their silhouettes were suspended in the morning sunlight, signalling the start of a new day within the Ni Manor.

❀ ✿

It had been a year since Xiao Ailang received the memories of her predecessor. Her head pounded from the flow of information (16 years worth to be exact) and she almost fainted from sheer shock. Her first thought afterwards was that her surname was no longer Xiao, but rather Ni. It was also the first thought that opened up a cascade of tears.

It felt odd when she was hit with a wave of distress. Previously, she had felt no connection to the name. It was so common amongst Chinese surnames that she paid no attention to it. But as she had laid there, sobbing uncontrollably as maids fretted around her, she desired to have that same name again. All she could think about was that she would never write "Xiao Ailang" on a test ever again, when signing her marriage certificate, or applying for a job. She would never doodle her signature on the corner of a paper when bored or cringe when someone butchered the pronunciation. But it was the idea that she was no longer with the "Xiao" family, her family, that really tore her apart.

But when Ni Ailang's parents had sprung into the room shortly after, in a flustered panic and inquiring on her condition, she had been comforted. She might not have had her parents with her anymore, but without them even knowing it, the Ni couple had lost a daughter. And while she didn't know what to do with her new identity, she could start by being a good daughter to the people in front of her, who looked at her with worried eyes and caring gazes.

Yes, she'd fulfil the role left by Ni Ailang. She would never forget her life in the 21st century, but maybe she could find a new life for herself, here.