The Consort of the R

After speaking, she closed her eyes, a rare weariness settling on her brow. She lay back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. Her ink-black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, save for the section pulled up and adorned with a peachwood hairpin. Her slender waist was cinched tight, the folds of her skirt billowing gently around her as she swayed slightly with the breeze. Two sashes hung from her waist, rippling in the wind.,The calming tea worked well. Just a whiff of it and my mind felt at ease. I propped up my head with one hand and lazily held a teapot, pouring myself some tea, all in a languid manner.,Lan You was at her wit's end. She turned her head and glared at the person lounging lazily in a chair: "Can you please stop eating melon seeds"。