Morning light shone through the window onto Zhu Zhuqing's face. She rubbed her still-sleepy eyes, got up, and stretched.
Then she remembered that such behavior did not suit the etiquette of a noble young lady. More than that, she feared the old woman who taught her manners would discover it and smack her palms, so she straightened up halfway through her stretch.
She washed and groomed herself, changed her clothes, and went out for breakfast. At the table, she first greeted her parents, then sat down to eat.
The plain congee entered her mouth, its velvety texture lingering there. Though there were no side dishes to accompany it, the distinctive fragrance of rice in the congee traveled through her tongue into her mind.
After a night of digestion, her stomach was already empty, and its hunger made her mouth water. As her saliva mingled with the plain congee, traces of sweetness rose from the tip of her tongue, greatly whetting Zhu Zhuqing's appetite.
Though Zhu Zhuqing had a hearty appetite, for some reason, as she ate, she felt she had tasted something better before. It did not seem to have been some rare delicacy, merely an ordinary bowl of plain congee.
Zhu Zhuqing shook her head slightly, thinking she was still half asleep and imagining things. Her mother reminded her to mind her table manners and stop bobbing her head about, accompanied by her older sister's snickering. Then her mother lectured her sister, and her father comforted her mother...
Zhu Zhuqing raised her head and watched it all. It was clearly the most ordinary scene, something she saw every day, yet for some reason, she felt she had not seen it in a very long time.
The etiquette lessons were the same as always, and so was her life, but