The summer of the tenth year of Wanli is always filled with sticky heat, and even the glazed tiles of the Forbidden City seem to have been burned by the sun. In the corner of the Yeting Palace, several rough ladies were squatting beside the stone steps washing clothes. The soap foam mixed with sweat dripped on the bluestone floor, leaving embarrassing wet marks.
"Bah, in this damn weather, if you rub it any longer, your hands will be soaked!" A round-faced palace maid shook her sore wrist, and when she caught a glimpse of the shrinking figure next to her, she couldn't help but spat, "Still pretending to be dead? Ren Dae, if the master's pajamas are delayed, please watch your skin carefully!"
