On the sixth day of the third month, the sunlight was gently warm.
In the lane outside West Peace Gate, a few birds occasionally chirped, and a few dogs occasionally barked.
Wei Nisheng had long since grown accustomed to this quiet, and had even come to depend on it.
When he studied, there was no clamor of carriages and horses outside his window, no cries from hawkers.
Only the sunlight slowly moved from one end of the window lattice to the other.
Today was no different.
The study was small: a writing desk, a chair, and a bookshelf, with several handwritten model policy essays spread across the desk.
Wei Nisheng sat at the desk, holding a brush.
A sheet of xuan paper lay before him, bearing half a policy essay's opening.
Qu Niang stood a short distance behind him, scissors in hand, trimming the narcissus on the windowsill.
Just then, Wei Nisheng suddenly sighed, set down his brush, and rubbed between his brows.
Hearing him, Qu Niang put down the scissors, came over, and replaced his tea with a hot cup.
It was this year's fresh tea, mingqian longjing, wonderfully fragrant.
Wei Nisheng lifted it and took a sip. After the bitterness came a trace of lingering sweetness, much like the taste of studying.
"Young master, take a rest," Qu Niang said softly.
"You've been sitting here for over six hours."
"Over six hours?" Wei Nisheng looked at the policy essay on his desk and shook his head.
"The essay topic I chose today was a little too difficult.
"It really is time I got up and moved around."
Meanwhile, a knock sounded at the courtyard gate of the Wei Residence.
Neither loud nor soft, three knocks, very polite.
Knock, knock, knock.
Cui Fu was attending to household affairs.