She carefully observed the woman.
The woman's figure was plumper than Fifth Miss Zhao, the kind of woman that others see and want to lose weight, but men find irresistibly alluring.
She had a waist, a bust, a neck, just a little too much flesh overall.
She wore exquisite Su Embroidery, her skin tender as cream, hair thicker than Fifth Miss Zhao's, a massive chignon piled on her head, with an extremely thick golden hairpin inserted among the chignon, dangling with a three-inch-long, two-finger-wide golden tassel.
If discussing beauty, Fifth Miss Zhao was a lily, serenely and calmly beautiful. Then this woman's beauty was like a trumpet vine, fiercely bold and overbearing.
Actually, a single trumpet vine flower is rather plain, while the beauty of a trumpet vine is in the whole, especially when full branches cling across a wall; when the wind blows, it's boldly beautiful.
