[FADE IN]

INT. AIYUE'S CHAMBER - NIGHT

The room is a haven of opulence, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Silk drapes hang from the ceiling, and the floor is covered in intricately woven rugs. The furniture is made of the finest wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and delicate porcelain vases filled with fresh flowers add a touch of life to the stillness.

AIYUE sits at a low wooden table near the window, dressed in a simple, yet elegant, robe of pale blue. Her hair, once adorned with elaborate pins, now falls loosely over her shoulders. Before her lies a blank scroll, a brush poised in her hand. The window is open, allowing a cool breeze to drift in, carrying with it the faint sounds of the city outside.

CLOSE-UP: AIYUE'S FACE

Her expression is calm, but her eyes hold a depth of emotion— thoughts swirling, memories replaying. She dips the brush into the inkstone and begins to write, her movements deliberate and controlled, each stroke of the brush precise.

CAMERA PANS DOWN TO THE SCROLL

The characters on the scroll take shape, each one a reflection of her thoughts, her emotions. The words form a poem, a metaphorical expression of her life, her existence within the brothel.

[FADE OUT]