"Taoist priest of Guisui Road in Shanxi Province, daughter of Yehenara Huizheng..."
As her father-in-law called the roll, Mo Xin slowly stepped forward and came out of the queue.
The beautiful ladies, maids, and eunuchs outside the hall all held their breath and kept their voices low. Everything was silent everywhere except for the high-pitched voice of the singing father-in-law, echoing in the spacious hall.
"Yehenala Mo Xin, fifteen years old, with a blue flag..."
Mo Xin was bending her knees and preparing to kneel down to kowtow.
"Keep it."
The sudden sound came from the mouth of the man sitting on the dragon chair in the middle of the hall. It was deep and calm, and seemed to weigh a thousand kilograms.
But what Mo Xin heard was like a Sanskrit sound in the clouds on the horizon, distant and ethereal, not as real as the jingling sound of the jingling beads on the white jade steps in her ears.
In the silence, Mo Xin did not raise her head for fear of losing her dignity, but she could already feel the solemnity in the air.
Except for the emperor in the palace and Mo Xin who was half-bent, everyone else looked surprised. Mo Xin could even imagine the envious expressions of the ladies behind her, rubbing their embroidered handkerchiefs with their fingers and gritting their teeth.
After a moment, Mo Xin knelt down, kowtowed and said loudly, "Thank you, Lord, for your kindness."
The interrupted father-in-law woke up from a dream and said seriously: "Yehenala Moxin, please leave the sign and give me the sachet!"
Mo Xin took the sachet and lightly ran her fingers over the pattern of clouds and golden dragons embroidered on it, revealing a confident and expected smile at the corner of her mouth.
The ninth day of September in the 30th year of Daoguang.
A group of swan geese flew over the Forbidden City, leaving behind a sound of chirping.
Intent: Palace fighting is just a tragedy in a patriarchal society where women are forced to compete, so let women take control of this absurd apocalypse!
