The Spoiled Fourth Prince's Consort Has the Best Luck

The heat came unusually early and intensely that year. Even while remnants of snow still clung to the double-eaved hip-and-gable roofs with their yellow-glazed tiles, people inside and outside the Forbidden City would have given anything to wear gauze. Once June ended, the summer heat in the capital grew steadily stronger. The bright sun hung high overhead, and only wisps of cloud drifted across the pale sky. Lotus buds grew plentiful in the ponds, but they lacked vitality.

Zhou Yi, a lonely wandering spirit, was affected by the heat too. Listless and limp as a boneless creature, she sprawled across a thick, emerald-green camphor tree branch in some mansion or other. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell on her face, making her look like a figure in a dream. Sometimes she wondered whether she was really a ghost. She could endure the wind and sun, and had no choice but to endure them. She could feel both cold and heat, and feared them too. But she could no longer taste sweet, sour, bitter, or spicy flavors, so she supposed she really was a ghost. And, apparently, a ghost over a thousand years old.

As for the answer, she was too muddleheaded every day to find out. At least she still remembered her name.