The third day of the third month, in the spring of the eleventh year of Jinghe.
The spring chill had eased, but had not quite faded.
Spring came late to the Southern Capital and left quickly.
Only days ago, the cold had made people tuck in their hands and hunch their shoulders. Today, once the sun emerged, a little warmth filled the air.
Wei Nisheng walked along West Street at an unhurried pace.
Today he wore a slate-blue zhiduō robe, with a raven-blue crane cloak over it.
A ring of white lining showed at his collar, clean and neat.
His hair was secured with a silver pin, and a Plain Silver Fish Pouch hung at his waist, swaying gently as he walked and making faint, delicate sounds.
The crane cloak was newly made.
Qu Niang had cut the fabric before the New Year, hoping to have him wearing it before New Year's Eve.
But he had still been in the Yingtian Prefecture prison then. Even once the clothes were finished, there had been no one to wear them.
Later, when he came out, he had lost so much weight that none of the original measurements fit anymore.
So Qu Niang had unpicked it and altered it, altered it and sewn it, sewn it and altered it again. Only after a great deal of fuss had she finally made it fit.
Fu Niang walked on his right, wearing a crabapple-red jacket.
A silvery-red cloak covered it, its edges trimmed with white rabbit fur that made her little face look all the fairer.
Qu Niang followed behind them, some two or three paces back.
She wore a lotus-root pink blouse with narrow sleeves, with a blue-gray short-sleeved jacket over it.
She still had three silver pins in her hair, with two tiny