The secluded private quarters of the Saintess were nestled deep within the highest pavilion of the Lotus Peak, secluded from the prying eyes of ordinary disciples by three layers of ancient, sound-dampening mist arrays.
The chamber was bathed in the soft, cool luminescence of moonlight filtering through carved lattice screens.
The furnishings were opulent yet understated—screens of dark sandalwood etched with blooming celestial lotuses, floor cushions woven from cloud-silk, and a delicate bronze censer resting upon a low table, lazily exhaling curls of sweet, calming white-tea incense.
Outside the high balcony, the rolling clouds of the demonic marsh drifted in absolute silence, completely insulated from the room.
At this moment, Su Xishi sat upon the bed.
She had kicked off her soft, embroidered cloth shoes, tucking her slender, porcelain pale legs beneath her voluminous skirts.
The loose peach and white silk of her robes pooled around her lithe waist.
