May was the start of the rainy season, and the weather shifted without warning, as elusive as the gods. One moment clouds had blanketed the sky; the next, it was clear for a thousand miles. The westering sun fell into their eyes, leaving people dizzy at heart.
"Haha! Sweet fruit gets eaten by people, eaten by birds—sooner or later, it comes to no good end! And sour fruit? Even birds won't eat it. Even if it's made into dried fruit, no one wants it. Even if they swallow it, they'll spit it back out, turning it into sour and bitter fruit dregs! Fruit dregs are good. I'd rather be fruit dregs!"
Uger's robes hung open, sweat pouring from his whole body, angry one moment and delighted the next. He muttered nonstop, practically mad and raving, without the slightest bearing of an elder priest. Fortunately, though his emotions rose and fell, his mouth stayed firm; of the things he should not say, not half a word slipped out.
After a long while, the slightly plump elder priest panted and fell back onto the cotton blanket. After venting for a while, the pressure in his heart finally eased a little, no longer pressing down on him like black clouds overhead. Then he waved a hand, and a maid brought over a cup of warm honeyed tea. Soft fingers brushed lightly as she carefully fed it to the elder's mouth. The sweet taste lingered on his tongue, then slowly slid down his throat, carrying the fresh fragrance of flower tea and lifting his spirits.
"Whew! The sun's still early. No need to rush yet."
Uger shook his head in satisfaction and tipped it back to look at the sky. Dusk was near; the setting sun cast a magnificent evening glow and drew a