The Artist Falls For Simple Tricks
That evening, the capital held a festival to celebrate the accomplishments of the military. It was a noisy festival, flooded with citizens venturing from place to place. It seemed that everyone needed a way to put what happened behind them. Although Xiang won, it was not a win without costs. No war would ever be. Rebels and soldiers were both humans alike, and to humans, the hands of death were inevitably unescapable.
Like the rest, Yujia too enjoyed the festival. Dressed in a pale shade of maroon, her robes blended well with the decor of the festival's colorful lanterns. She kept her appearance simple to ensure comfort— surely, she would walk a lot this evening— and considering that it was a warm evening for the usual winter temperatures, a thinner cloak draped around her shoulders. It seemed like even the weather was pleased with this win, since snow had melted from the path for an ease of walking, leaving the barest bits of frost lining the eaves of roofs.