By the time Zhu Wei came of age, she already felt like an old woman who had been through too much, stripped of all the luster of youth.
By rights, she was actually twenty. Yet here she was, standing in the great hall as the fifteen-year-old princess of Suling.
The Emperor of Jiang on the dais said the ceremony was to mark her coming of age. On a wooden platform lay a shimmering piece of jade-green Xiangyun gauze. The story went that four years earlier, the entire Zhao family, the richest merchants in Jiezou and the only ones who could weave it, had been burned alive in their home. Since then, no one had been able to make Xiangyun gauze.
It was rare indeed to see this fabric in the world again.
Shen Zhuwei recognized it at a glance. Four years ago, she had chosen this very fabric for herself.
The voice of Xu Yan, the chief minister hailed by the world as a "genius who could save the nation," sounded behind her:
"Green suits you, Princess."
She had not yet turned around, but she clearly recognized the voice from her memories. It belonged to a boy named Zhao Ke. Back then, he had said the same thing: "Green suits you, little sister Zhuwei."
Theme: Don't gaze into the abyss. Gaze toward the light instead.
