A Lonely Figure

"I've grown old. I used to think other people were stubborn. I never thought I'd become such an unpleasant sight myself."

"Was the Crown Prince warning me in a dream, or did I dream of him because he was on my mind all day?"

"Whether or not the Crown Prince came to me in a dream, Su Ziji is acting on talk of ghosts and gods. That won't do. Never mind the Daoist Sect—even the Brahma Sect that came from abroad has its small wonders and petty favors. None of that is the great path by which people live and work, so the sages set it aside. I must explain this carefully in a memorial."

Qi Hongxin paced alone beneath a solitary candle, muttering to himself. The Crown Prince's appearance in his dream had stunned him, but he was Qi Hongxin, after all. He soon recovered his own judgment.

"I won't claim a shred of Su Ziji's credit. I mustn't reach old age only to despise myself."

He polished the draft, discarded it, then rewrote it three times before he was satisfied.

As he reached the end of the memorial, he heard the rooster crow three times. Still not the least bit sleepy, he added: Your subject has served for twenty years, yet has done nothing to repay His Majesty and nothing to benefit the people. Repeated bouts of liver illness have left him worn down and useless. He can only beg Your Majesty's mercy and permission to retire, so that he may return to his hometown.

In this age, asking to "take one's bones home" was a tactful way for an official to request retirement. It meant asking to return to one's hometown, where one's remains could be buried, and spend one's final years there.

He read it over