The room was in complete silence. Only the soft whisper of fabric could be heard as servants delicately adjusted the edges of the ceremonial robe over Suwei's shoulders.
A slight clicking sound interrupted the moment: one of the jade borders had come loose. The servant lowered his head, trembling, and another hurried to fix it.
Suwei didn't even move. His eyes were fixed on the full-length mirror.
The reflection staring back at him didn't seem like his own. Not entirely.
He wore an imperial hanfu made of pearly white silk, hand-embroidered with golden threads and lunar silver. The chest displayed a dragon embracing a white crane, in a delicate balance between power and grace. On the edges of the sleeves, jade borders sewn with dried moon flower petals: a forgotten tradition that only imperial consorts wore.
The lower part fell like a cascade of clouds, soft, undulating, with subtle embroidery in the shape of a white crane.
