On a summer night, Song Ci, the elderly woman, was a light sleeper. By the fifth watch of the night, she had already gotten up to wash and joke around with a group of young maids.
"Madam is truly the cleanest and neatest old lady I've ever seen," Xiaoman said cheerily, praising her.
Song Ci dabs her face with rose-infused water, chuckling, "I'm at an age where if I'm not tidy and clean, I'd smell like an old person, and you'd all dislike me."
Xiaoman said, "You don't smell like an old person; you smell nice."
Song Ci smiled slightly. Of course she smelled nice; she washed her face with fragrant soap and soaked her hands in fresh milk. After that, she applied flower water to her face. She was quite meticulous about it.
Every day when she got up, she felt a vain sense of being an Empress Dowager waking early to be attended to.
