Xue Ye coughed several more times, a trace of bright red seeping from the corner of his mouth. Unbothered, he continued, "Over these thirty-six years, have I been worthy of these imperial robes?"
Xie Ru answered seriously, "You would have to ask yourself. There is no answer to that question."
Xue Ye said, "Is that so?"
Xie Ru's brow twitched slightly. At last, he revealed his first smile of the night. Though faint, it was warm. "The cause you planted need not be laid upon my head."
Xue Ye smiled as well.
Teacher and student looked at each other, though no one knew what passed between them.
"Teacher." Xue Ye's voice was nearly soundless. "I'm leaving."
Xie Ru took his hand.
"Go on," Xie Ru said softly.
Xue Ye slowly closed his eyes. His breathing gradually weakened, the rise and fall of his chest growing fainter and fainter until all became still.
Xie Ru did not move.
He still held Xue Ye's hand.
After a long time, he released it, pulled the brocade quilt that had slipped down back over Xue Ye, then rose and bowed toward the bed.
"May you have a safe journey."
He turned and pushed open the doors to the bedchamber. Outside, the dark mass of palace servants remained kneeling.
Wind blew in from the far end of the corridor, making Xie Ru's green robes snap loudly. He gazed into the heavy night beyond the eaves and suddenly said, "Issue the decree."
The old eunuch prostrated himself respectfully on the ground and said in a trembling voice, "Please instruct me, sir."
Xie Ru's tone remained calm. "Xue Ye has passed away. Summon Xue Qinghe to the palace."
The old eunuch knocked his head against the ground, then scrambled away in haste.
Xie Ru stood upon the