Red canopies and delicate gossamer curtains, meticulously crafted, encircle the dressing table adorned with blossoming tea flowers.
Half coated in rouge, half dusted with powder, the room blooms like a lush, embroidered bower.
Lifting the brocade curtain embroidered with peonies, a fragrance of makeup powder wafts delicately through the elegant abode.
Three beauties squeeze into an image of court ladies, hanging above the boudoir, beneath which stands a chair adorned with embroidered cushions.
With a mustache that covers a face full of masculine vigor and martial might, Yang sinks casually onto the chair, his face flickering with unreduced anger amidst the splendid and brilliant embroidery room.
"It truly breaks the heart. Who is so detestable as to have agitated Lian to such great anger?"
The preceding sentence was cooed with a feminine inflection, indicating a woman's tone, yet the voice unmistakably belonged to a man.
