The newcomer was Long Tingsheng, Great Kang's First Prince and the eldest son of Empress Jian and Long Xuan'en. He approached, coughing as he walked. Twenty-five this year, he was tall, powerfully built, and robust, with a square face, a drooping mustache above his lips, and dark skin. His tigerlike eyes swept over Long Tingzhen. "Third Brother, I heard Father was unwell, so I just went to visit him."
Long Tingzhen had actually already visited him. He smiled. "Such filial devotion is rare, Elder Brother. I can only admit I fall short."
"The weather suddenly turned cold these past two days. Even I caught a chill..." Long Tingsheng covered his mouth and coughed twice more, then looked at Hu Xiaotian, who was still kneeling in the snow. "This is...?"
"Hu Xiaotian, a eunuch from the Palace Gardens Bureau," Long Tingzhen said. "He's versed in every form of poetry and verse. I asked him to compose a poem on the spot."
Hu Xiaotian cursed inwardly. Compose a poem, my fucking ass. Aloud, he pleaded, "Your Highness, my talent is meager and my learning shallow. I truly can't compose one."
The sight of him made Long Tingsheng laugh. "If you can't, then get up. With snow this heavy, you'll catch a chill kneeling on the ground."
Hu Xiaotian looked pleadingly at Long Tingzhen. Only then did the Third Prince say, "Since my elder brother told you to rise, rise."
Only then did Hu Xiaotian climb to his feet. His knees ached after kneeling for so long, and his dislike of Long Tingzhen deepened.
"Not everyone can write poetry and verse," Long Tingsheng said. "I used to get scolded plenty over composing poems myself."
Long Tingzhen clearly had no intention of talking much with his eldest brother. After a couple of perfunctory remarks,