Luoyang Royal Mansion, the sleeping quarters of Prince Zhou Wenye.
It was laid with patterned stone, delicate, smooth, warmer than jade, more precious than the "golden bricks" used in the Imperial Palace. With merely a layer of clear lacquer, Phoebe zhennan wood formed the upright columns...
Famed calligraphy and paintings, curios and antiques dazzled the eyes. Gold and silver treasures seemed to be the basest of vulgarities here.
In the center of the chamber, the rosewood bed was draped with spotless white canopies.
Amid the rich aroma of wine, two figures—one portly, one dainty—lay drunkenly atop the bed, at times overlapping, emerging and vanishing subtly, obscuring clarity of vision.
Suddenly, a majestic voice tinged with slight drunkenness issued from behind the curtains:
"General Wei, how is the situation in the mountains?"
Thud!
Up until now, there was still someone else in the chamber. Only after the Yi King spoke did he heavily knock his head against the floor.
