"In between, we campaigned in the Northern Wastes once. When we drank again twenty-four years ago, of the three at the table, there were only you, me, and Qingju left. In middle age, we learned there were things beyond our power. We argued, then parted on bitter terms.
"Today, thirty years have rushed past, and on this rare occasion when we gather at the table again, there are only the two of us left. Sitting alone across from each other, how can we speak of joy? Yong, the affairs of the world are perilous and changeful. Those in power seldom reach old age. I hope you will take care of yourself and prolong your years."
Yongbei's fierce, cold brows rose, and his cheeks trembled several times. At last, he stepped back and knelt prostrate on the ground, choking on his sobs. "Your Majesty, take care!"
Li Yao nodded, looking down at the jade-green flute. "Li Jian has been at the Immortal Platform all this time. Go attend to whatever you need to do. Whatever the outcome, you might as well stay a little longer and leave after April."
"Your servant obeys."
Yongbei rose from the ground with his head bowed. Dirt clung to his knees, sleeves, and forelocks, and tears stained his temples and beard. Head lowered, he backed out of the garden.
Li Yao sat at the table, pouring and drinking alone, slowly finishing the pot of wine.
Sometimes he looked at the flowers by the pond; sometimes he gazed at the ripples. As daylight broke, the flowers and leaves in the garden were gradually washed back into their original colors. When he had finished drinking, Li Yao gathered back his hair, closed his eyes, and gently set the jade-green flute to his lips.
When the black