Jinghe Year Fifteen, Fourth Month, Twenty-Sixth Day, night.
The moon hid behind the clouds, leaving the courtyard dim.
In the rear garden of the Shen Residence, a waterside pavilion stood beside the pond.
The pond lay unruffled, reflecting the two gauze lanterns beneath the eaves, their halos heavy and muted, as though seen through old silk.
Where the wind passed, fresh lotus leaves stirred faintly. Moisture rose from the water and mingled with the breeze threading the corridors, neither quite warm nor quite cool.
Shen Duan had changed into a stone-blue Daoist robe, without a belt. His white hair bore no formal cap, loosely gathered with a plain hairpin.
He had not appeared before anyone in such attire for well over a decade.
Even when Fang Qi and Zou Mo visited for late-night discussions, they merely sat with him in the study. When had they ever seen him looking so at home?
On the small red sandalwood table sat a porcelain wine pot. There were no delicacies, only four ordinary dishes.
A plate of wine-pickled fish, a plate of spring bamboo shoots, a plate of salted plums, and a bowl of hot soup.
When Wei Nisheng arrived, Shen Duan stood with his back to him beside the pond, holding a few pellets of fish food and tossing them idly into the water.
Hearing footsteps, he did not turn around, but simply said:
"Sit."
"It isn't your first time here."
Wei Nisheng said nothing and sat at the table. His gaze swept over the four dishes, lingered briefly, then moved away.
Only then did Shen Duan turn around, sit opposite him, and lift the pot to pour the wine.
The wine flowed amber into the cups, neither rich nor strong.
"Zi'an, I recall that when you went to Suzhou, you