Along the Dragon Peace River in Smoke Willow Alley, fair ladies sit on jade stools, playing flutes into the night.
Qingyu Pavilion, one of the newly built Hook Bars Xu Yuan had witnessed on the Xuanying Attic.
Compared to those bustling Hook Bars, Qingyu Pavilion's main appeal lay in its elegant style.
The lotus-shaped Bright Pattern Lamps emitted a soft blue glow which, mixing with wafts of sandalwood, lent the grand hall a chilly ambiance, yet not without a hint of an ambiguous and entrancing haze.
On the stage, serene string music played while a young lady dressed in black silk danced with exquisite grace.
Three young masters clad in luxurious garments gathered in a corner of the hall, discussing state affairs they had overheard at home.
One of them, an ordinary-looking young man with a headband, sipped a fancy brew and asked in a hushed tone,
Jun Wu, I heard from my father that the war in the north isn't going well?
The one addressed as Jun Wu was a handsome man,
