Rose Thorn

Chapter 9 · The Crown Pact

The morning mist over the Palace of Versailles had not yet lifted when Lin Wanqing stood before the Hall of Mirrors' floor-length mirror, tracing the thorn vines of the "Stellar" brooch. Three days prior, this brooch had made her "Annual Emerging Designer" at the royal jewelry exhibition, and now Jean-Pierre's assistant presented a gold-embossed invitation: the Swiss royal family would host a preview for the "European Emerging Designers Competition," inviting her to attend with new works.

"Miss Lin, Mr. Gu is waiting for you in the garden," Xia Xia's voice came from outside. "He says there's something important to discuss."

By the garden fountain, Gu Chengyan leaned against a marble arch, swapping his suit for navy blue, an emerald lapel pin at his collar—the birthday gift she'd given him last year, featuring crushed diamonds arranged in the character "Cheng".

"Competition rules have changed," he handed her a tablet displaying the royal family's official announcement. "Preliminaries require on-site creation with the theme 'Protection,' limited to three hours."

Lin Wanqing's finger paused on "on-site creation". This meant no reliance on her studio team, no pre-prepared drafts, and even global live-streamed coverage.

"They're deliberately making things difficult for you," Gu Chengyan's voice darkened. "Chen Zhengxiong bribed royal logistics last week, claiming you 'rise through men and lack independent creative ability'."

She looked up at him, morning light filtering through the fountain's mist to highlight his angular features. She recalled him poring over old account books in the study last night—pages from his mother's forced marriage contracts, each inscribed with "maximize profits".

"So what?" she asked.

"So I'm joining you." He took a USB from his inner pocket. "Portable design station I had modified, with built-in 3D modeling software to sync with royal judges' systems."

She took the USB, its metal casing still warm from his touch. Memories flooded back: him standing at her studio door three years ago saying, "I'll help you find judges"; holding the jammer at the launch event, declaring, "Gu Group's backups are more reliable"; and in the mirror hall last night, holding the vintage watch: "I waited for you to grow up."

"Gu Chengyan," she kissed his chin. "You always say I need to win alone, but this time..." Her gaze fell on his lapel pin. "I want to win with you."

The royal castle's underground studio blazed with lights. Lin Wanqing stood center-stage, a white worktable before her, cameras trained on her hands. Global audiences watched live as she created a jewelry piece representing "protection" from scratch in three hours.

"Judges, I am designer Lin Wanqing," her voice echoed. "My theme is 'Thorns and Roses'."

As the camera zoomed in, she activated the portable station, blue light from the 3D modeling software reflecting on her face. Fingers flew over the touchpad, screen lines forming—thorn vines coiling around a black diamond rose, petal edges serrated like the marks she'd clawed into his studio wall three years ago.

"The uniqueness lies in..." She picked up a burin, carving a tiny keyhole in the rose stamen. "It requires an exclusive key to open."

Murmurs rippled through the judges' panel. Princess Margaret suddenly asked: "Why a keyhole?"

Lin Wanqing scanned the audience—Gu Chengyan sat front-row, mouthing "Go for it". She smiled: "Because true protection needs 'sincerity' as the key."

Three hours later, as she set the final diamond in the stamen, applause erupted. The 3D model projected on the wall matched her high school "Protection" sketch in every detail: thorn vine curves, rose folds.

"This brooch is named 'Wanqing'," she held it to the camera. "It protects the fire in me that's burned since age 18."

Princess Margaret took the brooch, tracing the keyhole: "Can it open?"

Lin Wanqing produced the key Gu Chengyan had given her that morning—a small bronze key fashioned from his pocket watch's gears. As it turned, the rose bloomed, revealing a micro-photo frame inside: an 18-year-old her and Gu Chengyan in a sunflower field, him holding a palette knife, her a sketchbook, "Exclusive to Lin Wanqing" scrawled across the wall behind them.

Gasps filled the hall. Margaret's pupils dilated, then she laughed: "Interesting. This is true 'protection'."

That night at Gu Manor, Lin Wanqing stood in the studio doorway as Gu Chengyan framed the "Wanqing" brooch design, back to her. Moonlight through the window lit the old scar on his waist, like a faded rose.

"You knew the royals would make things difficult?" she asked.

"Guesswork." He set down the frame, holding a yellowed diary—hers from high school. "I kept it for you."

She opened the diary, young yet defiant handwriting reading: "Dad scolded me again today for 'fooling around', saying 'designer' is a 'youth-only career'. I don't believe it—I'll show everyone Lin Wanqing's designs can protect all who deserve it."

Gu Chengyan's hand covered hers: "You did it."

Her phone vibrated. Jean-Pierre's message: "Miss Lin, the royal family appoints you as a final judge for the European Emerging Designers Competition."

She handed him the phone. His finger trailed the French text, smiling: "Mrs. Gu's career shines brighter than I thought."

"What about Mr. Gu?" She kissed his chin. "How long will this 'contract wife' charade last?"

His grip tightened, crushing her to him. 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.

"From day one," his voice roughened, "it was never a charade."