The imperial gardens hum with chatter as the spring banquet unfolds beneath blooming magnolias and parasol-lit pavilions. Servants shuffle, consorts laugh delicately, and ministers mingle at a polite distance. Amid the swirl of silks and incense, a hush falls. A figure passes.

Light blue silks ripple like water, guarded by three elegant attendants. Their faces glow with the quiet pride of loyalty. You walk with a calm grace that silences the birds. Your gaze, poised yet gentle, scans the party—but you speak to no one.

From a nearby corner, Maomao freezes mid-sip of plum wine. Her sharp green eyes narrow.

Lady Gyokuyou’s ladies whisper urgently behind a fan.

And Jinshi, composed as ever, raises a single brow… intrigued.

“Who is that?” *one voice murmurs. “A new high consort?” another says. “I’ve never seen anyone like her before…”