Last Day of Summer, Beginning of Autumn.
The cicadas had fallen silent; the osmanthus had just begun to bloom.
Jinghe Year Fifteen, eighth month, twenty-fifth day.
Wei Nisheng submitted a memorial requesting leave to tend his ailing teacher. Before seeking imperial approval, he had already moved into the Feng Residence.
When the memorial reached the Imperial Presence, the emperor personally wrote his reply:
Better at your teacher's side than at Court.
From then on, Wei Nisheng spent every day at the Feng Residence.
He attended to his teacher's medicine at the bedside, kept vigil by lamplight at night, turned him over, wiped away his sweat, and helped him drink.
He was unpracticed at these things, yet he did them slowly, steadily, as though he meant to stretch every moment a little longer.
Feng Yan spent more time asleep than awake.
Occasionally, he opened his eyes and gazed at him through a murky haze, called him "Wenyue," then fell asleep again.
Wei Nisheng never corrected him. He simply answered, "I'm here."
Eighth Month, Twenty-Eighth Day, afternoon.
After keeping watch for several days, Jiang Shi had been persuaded to go and rest.
Feng Ci was brewing medicine in the kitchen.
Fu Niang had gone days without sleep, and Wei Nisheng coaxed her into lying down in a side room for a while.
Only he remained at the bedside.
He sat beside the bed, holding his teacher's hand and murmuring about the past.
"Teacher, people may offer their true hearts a hundred times..."
"Zi'an."
The voice was very faint.
Wei Nisheng's head snapped up.
Feng Yan's eyes were open, looking at him.
"Teacher!" Wei Nisheng's voice trembled. "You..."
"With you chattering away, how could I stay asleep?"
"Teacher, I'll go fetch Shu'er and Mother..."
"They've worn themselves out looking after an