Qingzhu Hall.
"I, Qi Muxue, greet Your Highness."
"You may dispense with the formalities. Please, have a seat."
Lu Mingyuan invited Qi Muxue into his small dwelling and poured her a cup of tea.
Qi Muxue was very beautiful. Her moon-blue ruqun accentuated her slender, graceful figure, and she carried a scholarly air. Her unadorned, melon-seed-shaped face was as flawless as a piece of fine jade. Her eyes and brows were picturesque, and her thin lips were as ruddy as cherries.
Her hair was tied in a simple knot with a pink silk ribbon, the rest falling over her shoulders. Tucked among her locks was a crabapple blossom hairpin. She sat primly on the chair, exceptionally elegant, and a faint, sweet fragrance wafted from her.
As the sweet scent reached him, Lu Mingyuan found himself momentarily lost in a daze.
She held the steaming teacup in her fair hands, her glistening eyes fixed quietly on Lu Mingyuan, full of questions.
