Princess Manor
"Miss Zhou, the princess invites you inside."
A maid came forward through the rain, somewhat surprised, but strict etiquette left little room for conversation. She merely dipped in a curtsy, then led the way.
Zhou Yao followed her along the covered corridors. This design had first been established by Emperor Shizu of Great Wei. With corridors winding throughout the residence, one could stay dry and keep mud off one's feet whether it rained or snowed, so it had soon become part of aristocratic culture.
After rounding several turns, Zhou Yao saw a waterside pavilion beside the garden lake, where a clear voice was singing:
Beyond the curtain, rain murmured on; spring's splendor waned. The silken quilt could not withstand the chill before dawn.
In dreams, I did not know myself a guest, and stole a fleeting moment's joy.
Do not lean alone upon the railing; boundless rivers and mountains lie beyond. Parting was easy, meeting again was hard.
With flowing water and fallen blossoms, spring departed-heaven and the mortal world.
Only strings and flutes accompanied the unadorned singing, while maids softly marked the beat with sandalwood or ivory clappers. The voice hovered at the edge of hearing, winding on without end, like mercury spilling across the ground, seeping straight into the heart.
Zhou Yao pressed her lips into a smile and looked over. Rain struck shimmering ripples across the pond. Inside was a tea room; outside, rain poured in torrents, yet the fragrance of tea filled the room. A small window stood open, and women whirled in graceful dances, their jeweled pendants and bells chiming.
"My respects, Your Highness." Only when the song paused did Zhou Yao bow.
"Oh!" Xinping wore her hair in a high bun and was dressed in a palace gown. Looking back, she gave