An Lingrong paused, slowly closing the book. "Finally here." "Not to diagnose my illness, but to test me." She rose and changed into a moon-white, cross-collared long dress, over which was a plain gauze overlay, her hair adorned only with a single white magnolia hairpin—simple and elegant, yet possessing a unique spirit. She knew that Consort Hua loved vibrant colors and despised aloofness. She, however, would counter "vibrancy" with "simplicity," and "restlessness" with "stillness." Inside the Phoenix Palace, resplendent gold and fragrant incense filled the air. Consort Hua sat regally in the main seat, wearing a crimson-gold embroidered phoenix robe and a seven-jeweled crown, her brows sharp as knives, her smile growing cold. "An Lingrong, you've finally come." She spoke softly.
