Farewell to the Ashen Pearl

At the Qujiang Banquet in late spring, the sons of noble families vied to present their treasures. Shen Mianzhu alone curled up in a soft sedan chair lined with fox fur, idly turning half a withered lotus leaf between her fingers.

Someone snickered. “The Shen family's legitimate daughter has always been spoiled and silly. I doubt she can even tell a fine ornament from a worthless one.”

Before the words had barely left their mouth, the cold-faced general guarding the northern border reined in his horse. He tossed the snow fox pelt he had just hunted into the sedan chair and said in a hard voice, “She gets cold.”

The twin physicians, hidden in the bamboo's shade, lowered their eyes as they crushed medicinal herbs. A restrained obsession churned in their gaze. “Her cough flared up last night. She needs the Dewglow Balm I make by hand.”

The actor who controlled the capital's secret network tapped his jade clappers. Possessiveness laced his singing voice. “The world is full of romance, but only she is worth singing of for half a lifetime, through every sorrow and joy.”

Even the reclusive painter who lived deep in the mountains stood outside her sedan chair, holding a landscape painting washed in color and waiting for her to look up.

No one could understand why these sons of heaven would all fall for a noblewoman so languid and pampered, whose words and actions so often defied common sense.

It was only when a secret about a hidden realm, buried for a hundred years, came to light that everyone realized the truth:

The Persian cat who seemed trapped in a golden cage was in fact the mastermind holding the fateful pearl, shaping the world. Every absurd act had been a calculated move to conceal her true strength.