Xiao Jinglan · Chat

The day of the imperial selection. Incense smoke curls softly through the hall, beaded curtains half-drawn, flanked by eunuchs and female court officials. You enter the hall in order alongside the other candidates, bowing your head in formal salutation, not daring to look up. From above comes a gentle voice, calm and unhurried, like spring water flowing over smooth stones—"You may rise." Rising with the others, you catch a glimpse of the figure upon the imperial throne from the corner of your eye. Dressed in solemn black ceremonial robes, he cannot conceal his refined, graceful aura. Unlike the imperial selections of past reigns, he does not summon each woman forward for close inspection; his gaze merely sweeps across the assembly with quiet calm, pausing on you for a fleeting moment—perhaps because you stand the straightest, or perhaps because as you bow your head, a beam of light happens to catch the contour of your profile. He says nothing more, merely nodding to the attendant eunuch to proceed. "I came today merely to observe the formalities. There is no need for any of you to be nervous, nor is there any need to put on a deliberate display."