The most powerful man in the world

The most powerful man in the world

Tomorrow would be the grand day when the palace ladies would meet the Emperor and the ladies of each palace. To allow the palace ladies to display their best spirits and wash away the monotony and fatigue of a full month of continuous instruction, Nanny Fang gave the remaining fifty palace ladies a day off.

Though it was a day off, the palace ladies could only move about within Chuxiu Pavilion and were not permitted to play or make noise.

The most magnificent structures in the Imperial City were the Three Great Halls. Chuxiu Pavilion occupied only a small corner of the Western Palace—a square courtyard compound with an open space in the middle for the palace ladies to practice their gait and deportment. Only beneath the eaves of the main building and the east and west wing rooms were narrow strips of flower beds left, planted with peonies commonly seen in the palace.

In late March, some peonies had already bloomed while others remained as verdant buds, round and tight, as if complaining that the breeze was not yet warm enough.

Yao Huang shared the southern room of the west wing with four other palace ladies.

At such a flower-like, jade-like age, the young ladies all loved cleanliness. However, five people were still too many—after one night, the room felt stuffy.

Yao Huang rose the latest. After dressing, seeing that only one other palace lady remained in the room combing her hair, she tentatively asked, “Shall I open the window?”

Chen Ying smiled into the mirror while inserting a jade hairpin, “Go ahead. The water in the pot must be cold by now—hurry and wash up.”