Rose Thorn

Chapter 8 · The Mirror Hall Code

Lin Wanqing stood beneath the dome of the Hall of Mirrors in the Palace of Versailles, fingertips brushing the "Stellar" brooch in its display case. Twelve crystal chandeliers cast her shadow onto the mirrored walls, overlapping with the gilded carvings of Louis XIV—for the first time, she stood here at an international top jewelry exhibition as a "designer", not "Mrs. Gu".

"Miss Lin, Mr. Gu asks you to go backstage," Xia Xia's voice crackled through the earpiece. "He said there's something important for you."

The side door of the hall led to the backstage, its wooden floor creaking underfoot. Lin Wanqing pushed open the ajar door to find Gu Chengyan with his back to her, standing before an oil painting: a sunflower field with a crooked tree at the edge—identical to the one he'd drawn on his studio wall three years ago.

"This is..."

"I had it auctioned from a Parisian antique market," Gu Chengyan turned, holding a sandalwood box. "The original artist is the sketchbook you used for sunflower field studies at age 18."

Lin Wanqing's pupils constricted. She recalled that stormy night, charging into his studio with a palette knife, only to find him sitting amid shredded papers, this very sketch splayed before him. "Stealing paintings isn't skill, Miss Lin. Drawing me into your heart is," he'd said.

"When did you find this?" Her voice trembled.

"Three years ago." Gu Chengyan opened the box, revealing a vintage pocket watch. "You dropped it when you left the studio. I picked it up and found 'Exclusive to Wanqing' engraved on the back."

She took the watch, its metal casing polished smooth. The inscription was in her high school handwriting: "To the coward hiding behind the tree: your roses blind me more than sunflowers."

"So you always knew," she looked up. "Knew I was drawing you, knew I liked you secretly."

His hand covered hers: "I knew, but I couldn't believe it."

An alarm suddenly blared backstage. Lin Wanqing's phone vibrated with a security message: "Main display case breached. 'Stellar' brooch missing!"

Her blood turned cold. The hall's display case used bulletproof glass, its combination lock controlled by Gu's biometric system—unless...

"An insider," Gu Chengyan's voice darkened. "Only I can modify biometric permissions."

Lin Wanqing's nails dug into her palm. She recalled Madame Gu's words from last night: "Gu Group needs no designer who climbs via men." And the anonymous email to Gu's overseas branch three days ago—its IP traced to Gu's internal server.

"Follow me." Gu Chengyan dragged her toward the hall. "The spare key is in your studio's third drawer."

As they rushed in, the crowd had sealed the area. Lin Wanqing stood on tiptoe: a thin line scored the display glass, like laser cutting. Her gaze landed on Madame Gu in the corner, chatting with a silver-haired woman wearing a brooch strikingly similar to "Stellar".

"That's..."

"Princess Margaret of the Swiss royal family," Gu Chengyan husked. "She announced a 'European Emerging Designers Competition' last week."

Lin Wanqing's phone vibrated. Jean-Pierre's message: "Princess's assistant claims your 'Stellar' brooch highly resembles her private 'Thorn Crown' design."

"Plagiarism?" Her voice chilled. "First Su Manni, now royalty?"

Gu Chengyan cupped her nape: "Find the brooch first."

Behind the display case, they found the keypad prised open, fresh scratches on the metal edge—matching the grooves of her first brooch design, "White Rose", from high school.

"Chen Zhengxiong's men," she trembled. "He just got out of prison last month; he can't have this tech."

"Unless someone helped him." Gu Chengyan scanned the crowd. "Like—"

"Miss Lin!"

A familiar voice cut in. Shen Yanzhi pushed through, red-eyed: "I did it."

Lin Wanqing's temple throbbed. She remembered his words from prison: "I'm sorry." And this morning's bankruptcy report, signed in his hand.

"Why?"

"Su Manni is pregnant," he sobbed. "She forced me to steal the brooch, said she'd frame you and ruin me... but I didn't want to—"

"Enough." Gu Chengyan's voice sliced. "Take him to the station, cell next to Chen's."

That night in the studio, Lin Wanqing stood by the window, clutching the vintage watch. Moonlight poured in, illuminating the inner cover's engraving: "Wanqing, I'll wait for you to grow up."

"It was me," Gu Chengyan's voice sounded behind her, holding a velvet box. "Three years ago, you drew a sunflower field on my studio wall, writing: 'When I turn 18, I'll give this to someone I like'."

She turned to find his eyes earnest, mirroring her: "That pocket watch was my 18th birthday gift. When you said, 'Gu Chengyan's gifts hold only interests', I hid it."

The box opened to a new watch: its dial featured her "Thorn Rose" design, inner cover engraved: "Wanqing, this time I'll wait for you to win."

Tears fell onto the watch. She recalled him saying "You won" at the bidding, "You need no proof" after the launch, "I couldn't believe it" in the mirror hall.

"Gu Chengyan," she kissed the corner of his mouth. "This time, I'll wait for us—until the end."

His Adam's apple bobbed. He tilted her chin, kissing her deeply. Moonlight spilled over their joined hands, black diamond catching light—exactly like the "Exclusive to Lin Wanqing" he'd written on her sketchpad at 18.