The twenty-eighth of March was Wang Su's fiftieth birthday.
At the crack of dawn, Liang Wan was dragged from her bed by the maids Liang Cheng had sent. They had her wash, change her clothes, and apply cosmetics.
She was like a doll, silently watching as they did their utmost to adorn her: a madder-red, crossover-collared blouse with a plum blossom print; a verdant green sash at her waist; a skirt of fine, multi-hued gauze. They styled her hair in an intricate topknot and applied the 'falling plum blossom' makeup, complete with dabs of pale yellow and slanting red crescents at her temples...
'This is to make sure everyone knows I'm a gift, carefully prepared by Liang Cheng for the Sikong Mansion.'
Liang Wan sat before the mirror. The woman within stared back at her coldly, looking just as she had when she was sent to curry favor with the tyrant.
Out of sight, out of mind. In the end, she simply closed her eyes.
"My Lady—"
