Dream of the Red Chamber: Listening to Lotus in the Autumn Rain!

As Zijuan folded the last lilac-pink jacket into the camphorwood chest, her fingertip brushed the entwined lotus embroidered around its collar. Daiyu had chosen the thread herself and taught her to embroider it while ill the year before. Back then, Daiyu had just recovered from a fever, her cheeks flushed with an unhealthy redness, yet her fingers remained steady, every stitch neat and even. She had smiled and said, "Zijuan, look. The thread has to follow the veins of the leaves and flowers, or it won't look alive." The stitches were still as neat as ever. Only the one who had taught her was gone. Suddenly, the parrot on the windowsill flapped its wings and cried hoarsely, "Miss Lin, your tea is here. Miss Lin..." The bird had been brought here by