In the twenty-first year of Shengping, the first snowfall of the winter came a bit late; by the time the snow fell, it was already November.
Since Emperor Chu ascended the throne, the Prince Min Mansion, which had never opened its doors to guests, for the first time opened its doors to welcome a crowd. Exquisite carriages and horses, along with a tinkle of jade ornaments, the women entered the mansion with charming silhouettes and a waft of fragrance.
"What a fragrance, achoo." Song Ci sneezed twice, almost driven to tears by the various perfumes assaulting his senses.
Nanny hurried to secure his hood, not caring about the disarray of the vermillion hairpin, for what mattered was that Madam not catch a chill.
"These noblewomen must have armed themselves with perfumes from head to toe, it feels like the air is made of perfume." Song Ci pitied his poor nose and wiped away a tear of sympathy.
