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The sky of Hong Kong stretched endlessly, dyed in an intense blue that made every surface shine.
The warm air slipped through the limousine windows, mixing with the soft floral scent inside. Courtesy of Sakura.
She couldn’t stop checking her skirt, smoothing the hem, touching her hair, making sure no strand was out of place. Her reflection in the window stared back at her, and beside her, Syaoran watched with a mix of tenderness and amusement.
“Honey…” he called her, and the simple sound of that word was enough to make Sakura’s heart stop for an instant.
“Hoe?” She turned toward him, startled.
“You’re perfect.” He smiled softly, with that calm air that always disarmed her. “Everyone’s happy to see you… especially—” he let out a small, resigned laugh—“my sisters.”
Sakura nodded quickly.
“I memorized all their names,” she said in a faint voice, earning a stifled chuckle from him.
“You’ll be fine,” he assured her, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a light kiss on it just before the car stopped. “We’re here.”
The Li residence stood imposing at the end of the cobblestone path, a traditional Chinese mansion surrounded by centuries-old trees and stone walls. The air smelled of incense and jasmine, and there was so much magic it was impossible not to feel it.
Syaoran got out first and offered both hands to help her while a group of servants bowed their heads in greeting.
Sakura, bewildered, didn’t know how to react to so much formality and ended up returning bows again and again. Syaoran, amused, took her hand to calm her—though not for long—a whirlwind of female voices rushed toward them.
“Syaoran! Syaoran, move!”
Before he could say anything, Sakura had already disappeared among laughter and compliments in Japanese and Cantonese, surrounded by the Li sisters who showered her with praise and curiosity.
“Don’t do that! You’re overdoing it!” Syaoran tried to protest, though his voice was lost among the exclamations.
The scene was as chaotic as it was familiar.
Syaoran sighed, resigned, watching how the swarm of his sisters carried the love of his life toward the inside of the house.
And just when he thought calm had returned, he heard a soft sound—the tinkling of ornaments that only one person in that house wore.
“Mother.”
Yelan appeared like an elegant shadow—tall and imposing—the traditional clothing gliding across the floor with grace. Her eyes, deep and wise, examined him with the same affection that commanded respect.
Syaoran lowered his head in reverence.
She stroked his face and placed a kiss on his forehead.
“Welcome home, Syaoran. Where is Sakura?”
Syaoran sighed, resigned.
“My sisters…” he murmured, knowing that answer said it all.
Mother and son walked slowly toward the main hall, where they usually received guests.
The room was decorated with ancient Chinese furniture and ornaments. There, the group of girls was still smothering Sakura with affection.
“Girls, let her go,” Yelan said.
Instantly, they all stepped aside, finally letting Sakura breathe.
“Welcome, Sakura.”
She looked at the woman with a mix of admiration and respect.
She bowed deeply.
“Thank you very much for receiving me, Mrs. Li.”
Yelan smiled at her and, to Sakura’s surprise, also leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek.
“The pleasure is ours, Sakura.”
After the greetings, courtesies, and light conversation between the guest and Syaoran’s family, he took her to see the room where she would be staying.
It was three times bigger than hers in Tomoeda.
A king-sized bed in the center, elegant antique decorations, her own bathroom, and inside the closet…
“Oh, whose dresses are these?” Sakura asked, curious about the traditional garments of Hong Kong.
They were qipao in soft colors: sky blue, lavender, and pink, with fine embroidery and golden details.
“They’re yours,” Syaoran replied. “I told my sisters it wasn’t necessary, so you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed, but you know how they are…”
Sakura was astonished, though she took a step back.
“Really, they’re for me? Ahhh… wasn’t that too much trouble? Hoe…”
“Of course not.” He smiled. “And this—” he took a box next to the wardrobe—“this one’s from me. I’ve always wanted to give you one. I hope you like it.”
The emerald-eyed girl looked at him, surprised.
“Can I open it?”
At his nod, she sat on what would be her bed and carefully lifted the lid.
Inside was an even more elaborate qipao than the others: soft pink, embroidered with peonies and cherry blossoms.
It had small gemstone inlays and came with matching shoes and a traditional hairpin adorned with emeralds.
Sakura ran her fingers over the fabric, awed by its beauty.
“Syaoran, this… this is beautiful. Is it really for me?”
“I had it made just for you.”
“They’re our favorite flowers…” she said, her smile radiant.
He nodded, pleased.
“Thank you, Syaoran. I’ll treasure it so much.”
“You’re welcome…” He hesitated a second. “Would you like to go out with me? On a… on a date.” It still took him effort to say the word.
Sakura blinked, surprised, then smiled with that unique sparkle of hers.
“Really? I’d love to, Syaoran!”
“I’m glad.” He gave her that sweet smile she loved so much. “We’ll go somewhere traditional in Hong Kong. If you’d like, you can wear it.” He pointed to the qipao.
“I can’t wait to wear it! I will! Thank you, Syaoran.” She threw herself into his arms in a tender hug, happy to be with him in his homeland.
Syaoran then gave a gentle kiss on his beloved’s forehead and squeezed her hand before standing up.
“I’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll be in the main hall.”
Sakura nodded, her cheeks painted red, then lay back on the comfortable bed for a while before starting to organize her things.
The afternoon slowly faded over the Li mansion; the decorations, now bathed in gold, awaited the arrival of night.
Sakura walked slowly through the corridors, exploring every corner with careful steps.
She saw the inner courtyards, the statues, the altars, and the spacious halls; servants bowed as she passed.
In one corridor, she discovered a pond that reflected the setting sun in golden flashes and family portraits that seemed to watch her with solemnity.
Among them, one caught her attention: the portrait of Syaoran, standing in a ceremonial green robe, his gaze fixed forward.
The composure in his eyes and the firmness of his posture made the girl sigh, blushing as she realized someone might have heard her.
The mansion’s soft murmur turned, little by little, into a tenser conversation.
Someone was arguing, and Sakura immediately recognized Syaoran’s voice.
However, she couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Behind a half-open door, the voices mixed together.
“Syaoran, I thought that’s what this visit was for.”
“Of course not, Mother. We’re still in high school. I’m not going to tell her something like that now.”
“You should, now that she has time to think about it.”
“And if she doesn’t want to? I can’t force her. No one can.”
“Syaoran, I allowed you to go to Japan, but since you were a child, you’ve known the place that belongs to you.”
“Yes, I know. But we’re not talking about that now. Please, Mother.”
Sakura’s heart pounded in her chest, not knowing what they were discussing, but somehow she knew it had to do with her. Her feet felt glued to the floor, and there Syaoran found her as he came out of the room.
He was startled to see her, and his heart clenched, knowing that Sakura—though she didn’t understand the language—had heard.
“Sakura! Were you looking for me?”
“Syaoran… are you in trouble? Are we? What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing you should be concerned about.” He gave her a sweet smile, though his girlfriend knew something was wrong… but decided to ask later.
However, Sakura couldn’t remain calm.
Not after hearing Syaoran argue with his mother about something she didn’t understand but knew involved them.
No matter that he showed her the house, introduced her to relatives, or had dinner with the family—something inside her wouldn’t let her rest.
And the honey-eyed boy knew it.
They spent time together under the night sky, bathed in moonlight, in one of the family courtyards: the one with the beautiful pond where they could hear the soft croak of frogs and the chirp of crickets.
Sakura’s hand was warm between Syaoran’s, and he looked at her, unsure how to begin the conversation that troubled them both—though more her, since she didn’t understand what it was about.
“You’re still thinking about earlier, aren’t you?” he asked, worry deep in his golden eyes.
“It’s just… I know it’s about us… or about me, but I don’t know, and you sounded upset, Syaoran.”
“Yes, I was. I’ll tell you, but please, listen until the end.”
“I will.”
He took a deep breath, searching for the right words—words he knew could change something between them.
Even so, he spoke.
“My mother thinks I should tell you now what it means to be part of the Li clan’s leadership. What it implies… when in the future we… we marry.” He sighed, forcing himself to say those difficult words. “I’m the clan’s successor after my mother.
I’ve known it all my life: I was raised with that upbringing, those teachings, that training. I’ve had to memorize things, learn, meet people… and basically my family expects me to continue my mother’s role as clan leader—and go even further.
When they found out I’d gone back to Japan to be with you, many opposed it. They said, how could I lead a clan while living far away? So my mother says that if I’m going to live in Japan, I at least need to be sure that you want to share that responsibility with me—what it means to take on the clan’s leadership by my side.
But Sakura… that used to be my priority.
Now my priority is you.
That’s why we argued. If you don’t want to take that place by my side… as clan leader together with me, I can’t and I won’t force you.
I’ll never do anything you don’t want, Sakura. You can be sure of that.”
“And besides, talking about that while we’re still in high school… I told my mother it’s too soon.
Forgive me, Sakura, for not telling you before. I’ll understand if…” —he breathed, pain tightening his chest at the mere idea that Sakura might want to leave him.
“Syaoran… I want to be with you forever.
If I have to learn new things to do that, I will.”
She looked at him with a tender light in her emerald eyes, glowing under the moonlight.
Those eyes looked at Syaoran with such affection and devotion that he felt he could do anything, just to have them look at him that way forever.
“Thank you, my love,” he said softly, kissing the hand he held as if his life depended on it.
They stayed a while longer, talking about lighter things and taking a small walk through the lush garden, planning to take Flight card together one night to see more of Hong Kong.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖༘⋆𐦍⊹₊ ⋆｡˚
The days of their stay in Hong Kong passed like a whirlwind of activities: from sharing afternoon tea with the Li sisters and Meiling, to going out both alone through the city with its tall buildings, crowded streets, and endless signs that Sakura couldn’t read but Syaoran patiently explained.
They rode a boat, ate ice cream in a beautiful central park, and even enjoyed live shows in the middle of the city.
Sakura delighted Syaoran’s eyes every time he came to her door and saw her wearing a different qipao. His face would flush with embarrassment, but it was impossible not to admire her beauty.
And despite his shyness, he always told her so… as did his sisters, of course.
One of those tea afternoons, Syaoran had gone out with Wei on family business. Sakura, as she sometimes did, walked alone through the mansion grounds—which seemed endless to her—but always made sure to pass in front of Syaoran’s portrait.
And she couldn’t help imagining—truly couldn’t help it—the two of them together in a portrait like that.
She blushed down to her toes.
She noticed she was standing before the study of the Li matriarch and knew she was inside by the tinkling of the ornaments she always wore.
Something inside her, held back since that night she spoke with Syaoran, pushed her to knock.
She heard what she assumed was a “come in” from within and entered.
“Sakura.” Yelan stood tall and elegant as always. Both greeted each other with a bow.
Yelan motioned for her to sit beside her while she poured tea.
They both settled on the zuò diàn cushions surrounding the table, and the Li mother patiently waited for Sakura to speak.
“Mrs. Li…” she began, looking down at the steaming cup in her hands. “I’ve spoken with Syaoran… about our future. About him as head of the clan and… and about how I would also be part of all of that by his side.”
“I understand it’s hard to take in,” Yelan replied calmly. “My son was born with his destiny set and was raised to fulfill it, in an environment where we saw nothing beyond that.
But I also know times change, and that’s why I asked him to tell you what he has been preparing for all his life.
To be part of a clan’s leadership means walking side by side,” she continued softly.
“It means knowing how to make decisions even when the other is not there, with wisdom but also with sensitivity.
And in your case, this is not about a leader and their companion, Sakura.
Together, you will be the most powerful Li clan’s leadership than it has been in decades.
And that carries great responsibility.”
At that moment, the door opened, revealing Syaoran with a tense face—fearful, embarrassed—until his eyes met Sakura’s.
There was no trace of doubt or shyness in them anymore, only new, radiant determination.
“I’ll take that role. Don’t worry, Mrs. Li.”
Sakura stood and bowed to Yelan, who observed her with a faint, satisfied smile.
Then she turned to her boyfriend, looked into his eyes, and softly whispered:
“We’ll be fine.”
She squeezed his hand and walked away, leaving behind Yelan’s serene—and proud—gaze.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖༘⋆𐦍⊹₊ ⋆｡˚
With those important and uncomfortable conversations behind her, Sakura, that day, had thoughts only for her evening date with Syaoran.
She couldn’t wait to wear the qipao he had made just for her, so she put great care—Meiling as her assistant—into looking as beautiful as possible.
Meiling curled her honey-colored hair and brushed a soft pink over her cheeks and lips, because, according to her, Sakura didn’t need any more makeup than that.
It was no surprise that everything fit her perfectly. Syaoran wasn’t good with sizes, but that’s what Daidouji was for: she provided every measurement he needed so the dress would fit exactly. With photos as payment, of course.
Syaoran wore an emerald-green changshan of silk, with delicate golden embroidery on the cuffs and high collar.
He waited, already ready, in front of Sakura’s room, a few minutes earlier than agreed—as he always did.
After a few moments, Meiling came out of the room, gave her cousin an approving look, and then—dramatically—introduced Sakura, already dressed.
Syaoran’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement.
The qipao, perfect on her, only enhanced her beauty. The green details of the fabric matched her eyes, as did the emerald hairpin.
And the smile she gave him… was the most perfect thing of all. Moreover, they matched perfectly.
“You’re… you’re beautiful, Sakura.” Meiling had already left to give them privacy, not without sending a video of them to Tomoyo first.
“You too. I’ve never seen you in an outfit like that. It suits you so well, Syaoran… you look very handsome… beautiful.” She smiled, remembering the word she had decided suited him best.
He smiled, took her hand, and placed a gentle kiss on it before leaving together.
This time, a limousine would take them to the place where they would spend the evening.
The road, illuminated by the city lights, was a delight as they spoke softly and exchanged blushing glances.
They left the bustling city after a few minutes and entered a more private road, surrounded by ancient trees as tall as towers.
They followed the dark path until reaching another part of Hong Kong, brighter yet less inhabited. Sakura noticed the houses and establishments had a traditional air.
The restaurant stood atop a hill overlooking the harbor: a traditional house of dark wood and red tiles, with hanging lanterns lighting the path like floating fireflies.
Inside, carved wooden panels and painted paper screens reflected the warm glow of silk lamps.
The air smelled of freshly brewed tea, and the sound of guzheng music filled the atmosphere with soft, almost ethereal notes.
Sakura couldn’t hide her amazement, and Syaoran was touched watching her. While she commented on how beautiful the place was, a server approached, bowing deeply.
“Mr. Li, how nice to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
“Miss Kinomoto, welcome.”
“Hoe? You… you know my name?” she asked, bowing in return.
They were then led to a private room with a beautiful view of the coast.
“I didn’t know they knew you here, Syaoran… and me too!”
“Ah, this restaurant belongs to my family,” he replied, amused at Sakura’s wide-eyed surprise.
“HOEEE?! Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that, Syaoran! Wow!”
They laughed and began to chat cheerfully while sharing the traditional dishes that Syaoran carefully explained one by one: from dim sum to lobster and fried rice.
Everything was exquisitely prepared, and both enjoyed a wonderful evening—just the two of them and all the love they carried.
After a while, Syaoran looked at her, his eyes bright and a faint blush under the gold of his gaze.
“I want to tell you something, Sakura.”
“Tell me,” she said softly, returning his look.
“You are the most important person to me. I’m always grateful I met you, that you let me be by your side—to be your support and your partner.
As you said to my mother, I also want to stay with you forever, Sakura.
You are the most wonderful person I know, and…” —he reached into his pocket— “I promise I’ll always do everything I can so you’ll never be unhappy.”
“And this promise… I want us to carry it until the day we can get… —he swallowed—engaged.”
The lantern light made Syaoran’s amber eyes shine even more as he opened a small box showing two promise rings.
The first, for Sakura, was a silver-braided band crowned with an imperial topaz, the same golden hue as Syaoran’s eyes.
His own ring was similar, a silver band set with an imperial jade, the same deep green as her eyes.
Eyes that, at that moment, were filled with tears.
“Do you accept this promise, Sakura?” he asked, holding both rings in his hands.
“Of course I do, Syaoran…” she replied with a tearful smile as he delicately slid the ring onto her finger.
She did the same with his, and together, the jade and the topaz shone side by side on their intertwined fingers, bathed in the light of the moon that seemed to bless them.
“Forever.”
“Forever, my love.”
End.