The Mid-Autumn Festival should have been joyful. The moon was full, lanterns bright, and the Jia family gathered for poetry and celebration.

But the omens were dark.

Lady Wang received a letter from the palace. Consort Yuanchun — the family connection to imperial favor — had fallen ill.

"She will recover," the Dowager Lady Jia insisted, though her hands trembled holding her teacup.

That night, Daiyu wrote: "The moon is full, but for how long? The flowers bloom, but soon they fall. In this garden of illusions, even the moonlight casts a shadow."

Baoyu read it and felt a chill. Three days later, the messenger arrived. Yuanchun was dead.

The Jia family protection at court died with her. Political enemies stirred. The garden suddenly felt like a beautiful cage whose bars were closing.

"The red chamber is made of red dust," Daiyu whispered. "And red dust scatters in the wind."