Inside the Fuyun Palace, a breathtaking display of imperial splendor unfolded. Jade courtyards stretched out, mirroring the sky like a thousand shimmering pools. Vermillion halls, adorned with golden dragons and phoenixes, stood as symbols of centuries of power. Palace maids, their silk robes whispering like the wind through autumn leaves, glided through the maze of corridors, carrying luxurious dresses of shimmering brocade. Each step echoed softly on the polished marble, a hushed symphony of elegance. Sunlight streamed through the latticed windows, carved with ancient myths, painting the walls with dancing light. The air, thick with incense and rare blossoms, hummed with the subtle energy of court life – hushed whispers, the clinking of jade ornaments, and the distant, melancholic notes of a pipa from a secluded garden.
Zi Yuan was struck by the sheer opulence of the dress sent from His Highness, a contrast to the understated style of the Eastern Palace. The Fuyun Palace, a beautiful gilded cage, was a place where every detail spoke of power, yet beneath the surface ran a constant current of intrigue and unspoken desires.
A palace maid explained, her voice barely audible, "Miss Zi Yuan, the Eastern Palace, without a mistress, rarely prepares women's clothing. This shimmering brocade dress, a tribute from the Yunnan Kingdom, was recently retrieved from the imperial storerooms. We hope Miss Qiao finds it suitable." She gestured to the fabric, embroidered with phoenixes and peonies, symbols of imperial favor and feminine grace. The silk shimmered, its colors shifting in the light, a testament to the skill of the Yunnanese artisans.
The Eastern Palace maids, their faces serene, were the picture of courtly grace. Zi Yuan, ever practical, offered a warm smile and sincere thanks. "Sister, your kindness is appreciated. My lady holds the Eastern Palace in high regard. Please convey our gratitude to His Highness."
Closing the heavy, carved doors, inlaid with scenes of battles and mythical beasts, Zi Yuan hurried to the inner hall, a smile playing on her lips. The heated floors of the East Palace, a marvel of ancient engineering, offered warmth against the winter chill. Qiao Wanyan luxuriated in the bath, the fragrant water easing the day's tensions. Steam swirled around her, a soft embrace, obscuring her form in a delicate mist. Her dark hair, unbound and cascading down her back, resembled a silken waterfall against her pale skin. The subtle scent of jasmine and sandalwood filled the air, a personal indulgence that set her apart from the heavy perfumes favored by other court ladies.
Qiao Wanyan's skin was exquisite, like moonlight on cream, with a luminescence that hinted at hidden depths. It was smooth as ice, yet warmed by an inner fire, her bones sculpted with delicate grace. Water droplets, like liquid diamonds, clung to her shoulders, tracing sensuous paths down her spine.
With a slow lift of her arm, she broke the water's surface, sending ripples dancing across her skin, revealing glimpses of her soft curves.
Zi Yuan, caught by her beauty, stared, mesmerized. A sudden heat bloomed in her chest, and a prickling sensation flared in her nose. With a gasp, she tilted her head back, barely avoiding staining her dress.
"Miss," Zi Yuan managed, her voice a breathless whisper, "His Highness has sent a dress... a palace maid brought a dress of shimmering brocade."
A slender arm rose from the water, delicate veins tracing a faint blue pattern beneath the pale skin. With a slow, almost lazy movement, she beckoned Zi Yuan closer. "What kind of dress is it?" Qiao Wanyan's voice was soft and gentle.
Zi Yuan held up the shimmering brocade, letting the lamplight illuminate its details. "A Yunnan tribute, newly retrieved from the storerooms, according to the palace maids."
Qiao Wanyan's gaze lingered on the fabric, her expression unreadable. The brocade was exquisite, a masterpiece of artistry. The phoenixes and peonies seemed to dance across the silk, their colors vibrant. "It is beautiful," she murmured, a flicker of something like suspicion in her eyes. "But why send it to me?"
Qiao Wanyan raised her eyes, their depths like pools of night, and glanced at the shimmering fabric in Zi Yuan's hand. The brocade was precious, its threads interwoven with an iridescence that shifted with every movement. Even her grandfather, accustomed to luxury, rarely possessed such a treasure.
This belongs to a neighboring country, she thought, the steam swirling around her. Only the Dayou royal family has it, presented as tribute by vassal states.
A memory surfaced. This shimmering brocade... it was a gift from the Crown Prince to Qiao Yihuan in the novel. But why had it ended up with her? Would this affect the plot? She couldn't reject it now, it might seem like a tantrum. But based on the original Wanyan's personality, being unreasonable was normal. If she did that, her efforts would be wasted. Should I accept it or not?