Meng Xu, a descendant of loyal martyrs, possessed a face as radiant as peach blossoms in full bloom, her beauty blazing like a torch.

Tragically, the young master she was betrothed to had eyes only for her younger sister. When Meng Xu dissolved their engagement, she became a laughingstock amongst noblewomen.

Yet, less than two months later, rumors spread that Meng Xu would be formally invited to enter the palace.

How could a mere official’s child compare to the Son of Heaven’s majestic bearing?

Who was truly looking down on whom?

As Meng Xu walked across the spring-decked imperial path into Liang Palace, every eye turned to watch her. She moved with such natural grace it seemed this place had always been hers.

Everyone speculated on her purpose for coming.

Even the most exalted man in the world asked her, “Why do you wish to enter the palace?”

Meng Xu countered, “Having witnessed Your Majesty’s peerless grace, how could I settle for another’s pearls? Among all men in the world, who but you is worthy of my devotion?”

The young emperor had ascended the throne in his teens, his jade-like face concealing a heart as inscrutable as the heavens. Beauties came and went at his side, leaving none certain of his true affections.

Though imperial hearts are impenetrable, Meng Xu’s greatest gift lay precisely in deciphering them.

Beautiful Lady, Imperial Concubine, Zhao-yi, Noble Consort…

Later, they would say she was the most splendid and enduring flower to bloom at the Emperor’s side.

Meng Xu, however, had no desire to be a flower.

Flowers knew only of fragility and beauty, their fate subject to others’ whims, their glory fading in a single night.

If Meng Xu was to choose, she would be Great Liang’s flower observer, standing beside the Emperor.

To witness all beauty’s splendor, to delight in endless joy without decline.

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