Song Qingshu had just listened to that group of maids praise this so-called young master to the heavens, and he found it highly amusing. At the same time, he wanted to see what sort of person he really was.
A Brocade-Robed Young Master strolled in leisurely, wearing a long tasseled palace sash tied with multicolored silk flower knots, a dark-blue patterned eight-roundel satin jacket with hanging fringes over it, and small court boots of blue satin with pale soles.
The short hair circling his head had all been braided into little plaits tied with red silk, gathered together with the hair at the crown and woven into one thick braid, glossy black as lacquer. Four large pearls ran from crown to tip, with golden Eight Treasures pendants hanging at the end. He wore a somewhat old silver-red flower-sprinkled robe, along with a neck ring, precious jade, a consecration lock, protective talismans, and other ornaments. Beneath it showed the legs of pine-green flowered silk trousers, ink-patterned socks with brocade edging, and thick-soled scarlet shoes. His face looked as though it had been powdered, his lips as though rouge had been applied; every glance seemed full of feeling, every word almost a smile. His natural charm rested entirely at the corners of his brows, while all the passions of his life gathered at the corners of his eyes. His appearance was exquisite, though his true nature was impossible to discern.
"What a... what a finely powdered, jade-carved young master." Song Qingshu stared dumbly, and after thinking for a long time, could only come up with those words to describe him.
Song Qingshu had to admit that this young master was indeed extraordinarily handsome, but the scent of powder and cosmetics about him was too heavy. With Song Qingshu's current discernment, he could