Yan Xiao'er curled up on the gold-woven daybed. After a long, deep sleep, she stretched her limbs in a languid, sweeping motion.
"Xiao'er, come and have some fried rice cakes."
It was her mother’s soft, sweet voice calling to her. Xiao'er had intended to linger in bed a while longer, but the mere words "fried rice cakes" were too tempting to resist. She rubbed her cheek against her pillow, kneaded the silk-covered winter quilt, and finally slid off the edge of the bed like a pale, snowy silkworm.
Chapter 24