Jinghe Year Fifteen, February twenty-second, morning.
Spring rain fell over old Suzhou, soft and unceasing.
In the rear courtyard of the Xie Residence, the window paper still held a Qing hue.
Xie Lin had already risen and draped on his clothes. He stood beneath the eaves, lost in silent thought.
He gazed at the lingering rain in the courtyard, the stone steps still wet.
He had tossed and turned all night, scarcely sleeping.
It was not that he did not wish to sleep. He had thought too deeply, and the more he thought, the more wakeful he became.
By the fifth watch, he had simply gotten up.
Hearing a sound from inside, Xu Shi rose, put on her clothes, and lifted the curtain to look out.
Seeing Xie Lin standing alone beneath the eaves, his clothes damp in the morning breeze, she frowned and sighed softly.
"Xie Lang, why are you up so early today?"
"There is something I must do."
Xie Lin answered briefly, turned, and went inside, brushing past her.
"Sorry for the trouble, my wife. Please get my official robes ready."
Xu Shi asked no more and went to give instructions.
Before long, a servant brought a basin and towel.
By the time Xie Lin had washed his face and rinsed his mouth, Xu Shi had brought his robes.
She straightened each piece by hand and laid them over the clothes rack.
Her hands kept working, and so did her tongue.
"You only came to bed at midnight last night, then tossed and turned until all the bedding was in disarray.
"Has another thorny matter come up?"
"I would not quite call it thorny." Xie Lin took the robes and put them on himself.
He fastened his sash, straightened his headgear, and adjusted his futou in