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.,This is a place where we talk about romantic affairs and have nothing to do with mundane matters. All the people here are performers who only sell their art, not themselves. We have both men and women, and they are skilled in all sorts of things: music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, songwriting, singing, dancing, theater, and casual chatter. We've got it all.,You can chat and exchange ideas, or admire the skills here, but if you behave inappropriately, I'm sorry, your name will be hung in the main hall of Fengyue Lou for three days to be ridiculed by all the scholars and poets in the world. Unless you don't want any face left, otherwise everyone entering Fengyue Lou abides by gentlemanly conduct.。