The rainy season in the south of the Yangtze River is always so sticky. Shen Xiu Niang stood under the corridor of the carved building, her fingertips touching the dart bag on her waist. The surface of the bag is embroidered with lotus twigs using gold thread, and the stitching is complicated, making it glow even in the dark sky. The brass bells on the eaves were tinkled by the draft. She looked at the water splashing in the patio and suddenly heard the crisp sound of broken porcelain coming from the west courtyard.
"Xiu Niang!" The housekeeper Lao Zhou's voice was trembling, "Master, please go to the study."
