Flowers in Hand, Their Fragrance on My Clothes

My cousin is a man of refined grace, as handsome as a jade tree among orchids. At a young age, he became the youngest prime minister in the court.

Thanks to him, plenty of people went out of their way to get close to me, each hoping to become my cousin's wife.

I was more than happy to help, actively creating opportunities for them to spend time with him.

But every "chance encounter" I arranged was always seen through by my cousin. He would then go to my mother and dock my monthly allowance, calling it a punishment.

What a hateful cousin. I was only trying to be nice, yet not only did he refuse to appreciate it, he repaid my kindness with treachery. How infuriating.

In a fit of anger, I resolved not to see him again unless he returned every last bit of my allowance.

Who knew he would go even further and send someone to deliver betrothal gifts, saying he wanted to marry me?

Tears sprang to my eyes. I had never wanted to marry him. My cousin looked gentle and refined, but in truth he was a smiling fox, inscrutable and always playing people for fools. I had no desire to spend my whole life under his thumb.

Summoning my courage, I charged straight to the prime minister's residence, determined to make it clear that I would not marry him.

I said my piece, but his smile only deepened. The sight sent a chill down my spine.

"Cousin, your refusal to marry me has broken my heart. Could it be that you have someone else in mind?"

"What would you do if I said I did?"

He smiled faintly and straightened his sleeve, his voice as gentle as a breeze. "Naturally, I would make sure to give them such special attention that they would no longer dare to covet you."

Me: "...You, you really are hateful!"

"The hateful one is clearly you, Cousin. When we were children, you said you wanted to marry me. Now you won't admit it. How heartless and ungrateful."

"..."

Theme: A promise made must be kept.