From the Prefectural Office to the Imperial Silk Bureau, twice in one day he had to read another man's face.
The Suzhou Weaving Bureau.
When Shen Mingxuan arrived, the gatekeeper recognized him.
Yet he did not let him through at once. "Owner Shen, please wait," was all he said before turning to announce him inside.
Standing outside, Shen Mingxuan watched the lantern swaying beneath the eaves and suddenly found it laughable.
At the Suzhou Prefecture Office just now, he had at least half counted as an honored guest.
Now, at the gates of the Imperial Silk Bureau, he could not even cross the threshold without waiting for someone to announce him.
A merchant was a merchant. Wherever he went, he was always the one waiting for someone else to open the door.
After roughly half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the gatekeeper emerged and stepped aside.
"Owner Shen, the Old Ancestor is in the rear hall."
Shen Mingxuan nodded, crossed the threshold, rounded the screen wall, and followed the narrow passage toward the rear hall.
There were no lights along the way, save a few lonely lanterns hanging beneath the covered walkway.
Their ghastly light fell on the blue bricks like a thin coat of frost, chilling the heart.
The Imperial Silk Bureau's rear courtyard.
Before he reached the Hall Front, he heard singing.
Shen Mingxuan rounded a corner of the walkway and looked up.
A single light, tiny as a bean, burned in the waterside pavilion.
Dressed in an opera costume, his face powdered white and his lips painted red, Li Jin flicked his sleeves and bent at the waist, singing in lilting tones.
It was a passage from "The Palace of Eternal Life."
Only he had altered three parts and changed