Her beloved father died in battle in the northwest, and her own mother couldn’t stand her. Third Young Miss Nian Rong was bedridden day after day, a pitiful little thing in the Marquis of Zhen Guo’s household.
Back then, she could never have imagined that one day the most powerful man in the land would sit by her sickbed and feed her medicine, while the relatives who despised her knelt outside the palace hall for hours just to see her.
*
A sorrowful beauty dimples her cheeks, her whole body delicate with illness.
Tears glisten in her eyes, and she breathes softly.
When still, she is like a delicate flower reflected on water; when she moves, like a frail willow in the breeze.
Her mind is more perceptive than Bi Gan’s, her illness more affecting than Xi Shi’s.
Weibo: Xiao Hong Xing c
