Autumn wind filled his sleeves; plain mourning clothes gave way to scarlet once more.
On the Fifth Day of the Tenth Month, Jinghe Year Fifteen, Wei Nisheng returned to duty.
Before dawn had broken, Cui Fu had driven him to the Ministry of Personnel Office.
Wei Nisheng stepped down from the carriage and straightened his robes and headwear.
After more than a month in plain mourning clothes, he wore his Scarlet Robe and Silver Fish again today.
Though the robe was new, it hung a little loose on him.
Then Wei Nisheng raised his head, about to step forward, only to find someone standing at the office entrance.
Wang Kan.
He wore official robes and a winged Futou; the single horn of his Xiezhi Crown gleamed blue-green in the morning light.
He stood squarely in the Ministry of Personnel's main entrance, arms folded, blocking it completely.
None of the runners at the gate dared ask him to move aside.
The temper of Censor Wang of the Censorate was known throughout the court.
Wei Nisheng paused, just about to speak.
"Wei Zi'an!"
Wang Kan's scolding had already come crashing down over his head.
"You still have the nerve to come back to the Ministry of Personnel?!"
Wei Nisheng said, "Zhanzheng, I..."
"Shut up!" Wang Kan strode up to him, his finger almost jabbing the tip of his nose.
"You mourned him, went three days without food, lodged beside the pavilion, and wasted away in grief until you were skin and bones!
"And there you were, the very picture of a loyal minister and filial son, scaring the entire court half to death!"
"The Book of Rites says, 'Grief must not destroy life; the dead must not bring harm to the living!'" Wang Kan's voice rose higher.
"You studied for ten years,