On New Year's Eve, Ye Zao emerged from Qianqing Palace, weary to the bone, and tread the night back to Jinyu Pavilion.
The ice lanterns in the courtyard lit up together.
Thirty-six lanterns, thirty-six different flowers. The small flames within were not enough to melt the ice lanterns, at least not for two to three shi chen.
Because pigments had been applied inside the ice, the dim flames shone with a kaleidoscope of colors.
It was truly beautiful.
Although Ye Zao had seen more beautiful neon lights and a variety of colors that could be digitally rendered, even flowing, dancing lights.
But only this time, she felt happy.
These were hers, given to her by the man who, despite having many women, was wholeheartedly devoted to her.
Ye Zao stood in the courtyard and laughed, "Does it look good?"
"Of course, it's beautiful. As long as the mistress likes it," Shan Hu smiled.
