Jinghe Year Fifteen, Third Month, Twenty-Eighth Day, morning.
Dawn hovered on the edge of breaking. Thin mist, gauzy as silk, veiled water and shore, wrapping all of Suzhou in a single shade of indigo.
Distant waters glimmered faintly; lamplight still swayed.
Arched bridges swallowed mist; willow strands trailed in the chill.
North of Suzhou, at the Imperial Splendor Pavilion.
The pavilion overlooked the Grand Canal, its stone steps furred with moss. Once a place of welcomes and farewells, this morning it held only solitude.
The official boat had already moored.
The vessel was small, its cabin doors shut tight. A flag bearing the word "Imperial" hung from the mast, fluttering lightly in the morning breeze.
Dozens of camphorwood chests stood neatly stacked upon the deck.
Their seals of sealing wax bore vermilion stamps, layer upon layer.
Here lay what remained after months of upheaval in Suzhou.
At the pier, the mist had yet to clear, and the water gleamed faintly white.
There was no honor guard, no drums or music, only a few Hangzhou Guard Soldiers standing with hands upon their sabers.
Wei Zi was leaving Suzhou without fanfare.
Zhang Zai stood beside the pavilion's landing bridge, still in his green robe, his futou neatly set, not a speck of dust upon him.
As Wei Nisheng stepped out of the Postal Station, daylight broke through a gap in the clouds.
No one followed to see him off. Qu Niang had boarded first to prepare his resting quarters.
Cui Fu held the reins of the bay horse, standing a full ten paces away.
Wei Zi had yet to board. He walked to the landing bridge and stopped.
He looked first at the official boat, then at Zhang Zai.
"Zi'an, you and I arrived aboard the same boat.
"Now you