A pearl-and-jade hairpin, carved into the shape of a delicate plum blossom, anchored her dark hair. A soft sweep of rouge warmed her cheeks, while a veil of fine powder concealed the faint shadows beneath her eyes. The gentle fragrance of osmanthus blossoms lingered around her, lending a quiet grace to her presence.
By the time she arrived, most of the concubines were already seated in the main hall. Only Xian Guifei and Duan Guifei were absent. Mei Liang had just finished exchanging formal greetings and was about to take her seat when the two highest-ranking consorts entered.
The soft rustle of silk broke the stillness of the morning, and, by courtly custom, everyone—Mei Liang included—rose and bowed in unison.
Today, however, the air was charged. Many of the women in the room harbored resentment toward Mei Liang, even Duan Guifei and Xian Guifei were no exception.
