The autumn of Zhanghe’s tenth year. In six months there would be a Selection. The imperial order was expected to reach each prefecture by the beginning of the new year.

Qingzhou. Prefect Mu’s residence.

The warm early spring sunlight made its way through the layers of branches and leaves and sprinkled on the light yellow muslin pleated skirt. A dark red embroidered blanket was softly draped over Mu Xi Yao’s lap, and a faint grass fragrance lingered around the courtyard. Mu Xi Yao comfortably squinted her eyes, lying on her side with her arm lifted and propped on the couch bed. Beside her was the Chief Maidservant Hui Lan who was peeling a fragrant fruit. Its meat was slightly sweet upon consumption. It was tender and juicy, very delicious.

When Zhou Tong woke up, she was lying on a silky bed. The gentle light of candles that passed through the bed curtain was warm and tranquil. As far as her eyes could reach, everything seemed unfamiliar. The furniture and its arrangement were all in the ancient style. Gradually, a ridiculous idea crossed her mind. As she tried to get up, the surroundings started to spin, and she was hit by an intense urge to throw up. Zhou Tong felt a splitting headache and had to grip the silky bedding tightly, stiffening her body and enduring the discomfort.