In the rear garden pavilion of the Feng Residence, tea and refreshments were ready.
Feng Yan sat in a Grand Tutor's Chair, a thin blanket draped over his knees. Gazing at the pond outside the pavilion, he pinched fine fish feed between his fingers and watched the fish scramble for it.
Just then, a very familiar voice rang out from the covered walkway.
"Boyuan! You're hardly behaving like a proper host.
These old bones have come all this way, and you won't even rise to welcome me?"
Feng Yan did not move. He merely gestured for a servant to push him back from the edge of the pavilion.
Just as he returned to his place, Qin Yan entered the pavilion.
"You want me to rise and greet you just because you're stepping over my threshold?
Qin Ziye, do you think you're still the imperial envoy who once traveled to the steppes, or are you a penniless scholar coming here to beg for tea?"
Qin Yan laughed and cursed him. "That sharp tongue of yours is even more cutting than when you were young."
With that, he stepped over the threshold and sat opposite Feng Yan. He casually picked up the tea without a hint of fuss, tipped back his head, and drained it.
"Hmm? You haven't changed your tea. It's still from that same tin.
When I left, you said you'd save it until I came back. I thought you were just being polite."
"Polite?" Feng Yan gave a little laugh.
"It's only a tin of tea. I hardly need to make polite gestures to you over that.
You, though-you came back rather later than I expected."
"Don't ask. I did waste some time on the road!"
Feng Yan said nothing. His gaze settled on Qin Yan, and he smiled.