Headers<br/><div class="codeheader">Code: <a class="codeoperation" href="javascript:void(0);" onclick="return smfSelectText(this);">[Select]</a></div><pre style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><code class="bbc_code">[floatleft][img height=200]&lt; URL for your avatar image, if desired &gt;[/img][/floatleft]<br/>[b]Name :[/b]<br/>[b]Element :[/b]<br/>[b]Location &amp; Time :[/b]<br/>[b]Tagging :[/b]<br/></code></pre><br/><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/35/Bamboo_river.jpg)</div><br/>On the first eve of the annual Paper Boat Festival, Lord Chiang hosted a private banquet in the courtyard of the palace gardens. The lord's closest courtiers were invited to share a table with the visitor from across the river, who had arrived ahead of the paper boats drenched in black silk.<br/><br/>The pear trees were in full creamy bloom. Lord Chiang's gentle gardeners stood on ladders in the corners of the garden, pollinating each tree's ten thousand blooms by brush. At the foot of the shrine, a string musician in flowing silk skirts played softly while the servants arrived with courses of rare meat, lovingly grown vegetables, and flavorful sticky rice. But through it all, the elegant pillow beside Lord Chiang remained unoccupied.<br/><br/>Finally, a concubine came to whisper in the lord's ear. The stony way he listened said volumes. He spoke with regret, "It seems my daughter will not be joining us. She sends her well wishes."<br/>"Is she ill, lord?" the woman from across the river asked. It was not the first time she'd pressed the lord for information where others would show decorum, and her smile was not wholly sympathy. "Wudang medicine has miraculous properties. I would be remiss as your guest if I did not offer my services." The slightest bow made the feathers at Gao Kuan Jiang's collar shimmer and her multiple piercings stir like tiny wind chimes.<br/>"No. Her duties have merely left her weary. I must refuse your offer."<br/>Kuan Jiang's eyes twinkled.<br/><br/>Soon the final bowl of plain rice was served. It was understood by most, this final rice was not to be touched, or risk insult to the lord's feast. Kuan Jiang rose from the banquet, to tour the garden and to be entertained. Her dark eyes were often curious, and Lord Chiang could not leave while she remained. From the pagoda, he looked out over the wall to the bright paper lanterns of the festival. He did not see the shadow creep into the garden, or the lantern snuffed by a silent dart.