Ji Feihua said, "There's a drinking party outside the palace tonight. If you have nothing else to do, come with me."
"Yes!"
At dusk, Hu Xiaotian rode out of the Imperial Palace in a carriage with Ji Feihua. Apart from Hu Xiaotian, there was only the driver; no one else accompanied them. In all the palace, few people had the honor of sharing a carriage with Ji Feihua.
Ji Feihua sat with his eyes closed, quietly resting. Hu Xiaotian did not dare disturb him and waited silently at his side. With the curtains lowered on both sides, he could not see outside and could only hear the clopping of hooves and the rumble of wheels. After traveling for about two hours beyond the Imperial City, the carriage finally reached its destination.
Ji Feihua slowly opened his eyes. Outside, the driver said respectfully, "Commander, we've arrived at the Misty Waters Pavilion!"
Hearing the name Misty Waters Pavilion stirred something in Hu Xiaotian's heart. This was where he had once crossed literary swords with Wu Jingshan, the Minister of Rites. Recalling his former glory, he remembered how his extraordinary skill with couplets had left the likes of Wu Jingshan and Deputy Censor-in-Chief Su Qingkun utterly disgraced. A whole crowd of scholars and poets had lost their luster before him, and even Huo Xiaoru, the celebrated talented woman, had looked on him with special favor because of it. It all seemed to have happened only yesterday, yet in less than a year, heaven and earth had been turned upside down.
The driver opened the carriage door. Hu Xiaotian got out first and was about to help Ji Feihua down, but Ji Feihua waved him off. The driver set out a small stool, and Ji Feihua stepped down onto it. He looked up at