Nanny Chen said earnestly, "Madam went out alone, probably just to stroll around the streets. She will be back shortly."
Lu Ying glanced around. Shen Yinning's small courtyard didn't have any festive arrangements typical of other maidens—no fruits, pastries, or needles and threads for the Qiqiao Festival. In the bedchamber, only a few faint green lamps were lit, giving the place a cold and distant feeling, entirely absent of holiday cheer.
Lu Ying's gaze fell on the writing desk.
Beside the pearwood pen rack lay a palm-sized red paper cutout.
The cutout depicted a human figure.
He reached out to pick it up.
Haitang came in to serve tea and couldn't help smiling, "It rained last night, and the house felt quiet and chilly. The maids had gone to sleep, so Madam, feeling bored, played with paper cutting by the flickering candlelight. I took a glance; the figure's outline and features look remarkably like His Highness."
Lu Ying rubbed the little paper likeness between his fingers.
