A Heart Misfired

After the young officer Edward Shaw took first place in a high-profile shooting exhibition attended by senior officials, his family adopted a rather peculiar tradition.

At the annual family banquet, he would perform a blindfolded shooting. Whichever woman's token his bullet struck was taken as a sign that she would become his fiancée.

Determined to marry him, I placed the handkerchief I had carefully chosen as close to him as possible.

Yet, for three consecutive years, his shots hit nothing at all.

I told myself the handkerchief must have been too light, too easy to miss. So each year, I replaced it with something more refined, more eye-catching than before.

That illusion lasted until the night before my eighteenth birthday, when I happened to overhear him speaking with a friend at a reception.

"Miss Jasmine's handkerchief is right in front. Even blindfolded, you should be able to hit it. How do you keep missing every year?"

Edward swirled his glass, his tone casual.

"Tracy's still young. The moment she hears I'm getting engaged, she starts crying.

"I promised I'd wait until she's a little older. As for Jasmine, she's waited for me all these years. It's not like she's going anywhere."

With that, he casually tossed his glass into a metal bucket in the corner. It rang out with a sharp, hollow clang.

I lowered my gaze and thought of my younger sister, only a year younger than me.

So it had never been about the token. It was about the person who placed it there.

In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on.

After all, my father had already arranged a marriage for me.

Three days later, at that same family banquet, I would be formally engaged.

I just stepped back into the house when something red slammed hard into my chest.

I bent down to pick it up, and that was when I heard Tracy Lewis crying.

"I'm not getting married. I won't! I'll only marry Edward, no one else!"

She rushed up to me, stomping her foot in anger.

"Jasmine, you did this, didn't you!"

Only then did I realize what hit me. It was my engagement document.

Because the groom's family was powerful and well-known, my father warned me long ago that before the engagement was officially announced, the document had to stay locked in his study. No one was allowed to leak a single detail. Not even me.

Yet somehow, Tracy found it.

My expression sharpened. "You went into father's study without permission?"

Tracy froze for a second, then burst into even louder sobs.

"So it was you! You did this on purpose. You're afraid I'll take Edward from you, so you made father marry me off early!"

Her face flushed red as she turned and ran.

I frowned and went after her, only to see Edward Shaw already holding her in his arms, gently patting her hair.

"Don't cry. I'm here. Who would dare force you to marry?"

Tracy's sobs grew even more pitiful.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward noticed me. His expression turned icy instantly. "Jasmine, look at what you've done."

My steps came to a sudden stop.

Under the night sky, the two of them looked like a perfect couple.

I watched as Tracy lifted her tearful face from his chest. I forced down the tremble rising in my throat.

"Mr. Shaw, what do you mean? What exactly did I do?"

"You're still denying it?" He pointed at the engagement document in my hand. "I've said it many times. I can only marry you if I hit your handkerchief. If I miss, then it's fate. It has nothing to do with Tracy.

"So how could you push Mr. Lewis into secretly arranging a marriage for Tracy?

"She's still young. Aren't you afraid she'll suffer after getting married?"

I tightened my grip on the document. My heart felt like it was frozen solid.

He would not even look at what was written in it. Just based on a few words from Tracy, he was already blaming me.

Then he talked about fate.

Once, I might have believed him. I would have done anything, everything, just for that one chance. However, today, hearing those words, I finally understood.

That was not fate. He simply did not want to hit my handkerchief. He never wanted to marry me.

I pressed my lips together. My voice no longer shook.

"Mr. Shaw, I think you've remembered wrong. Tracy is only one year younger than I am. She's seventeen this year.

"Girls can be married off at fifteen. How is she 'too young'?"

His back stiffened. He instinctively pushed Tracy away.

Maybe he remembered.

The first year of the shooting match, I was only fourteen.

When he missed, I cried until my eyes turned red, begging him to shoot again.

However, he frowned, clearly annoyed.

"Jasmine, why are you being so unreasonable?

"You'll be of age next year. How can you still act this willfully? Don't you care about the rules of our family?"

I was fourteen then. He told me to be sensible, and for four years, he never once let his shot find its mark.

Then Tracy was seventeen.

Suddenly, she was too young.