Elio’s Notes: The title quotes the opening line of Bai Juyi’s Sleeping on an Autumn Rainy Night. The phrase “three autumns” refers to autumn across its three months, so FD renders the image naturally as “the nights of autumn” rather than as three literal nights.
A faint fragrance of osmanthus lingered in the air. It was an autumn morning. Waking from a heavy sleep, Li Yu frowned slightly and opened his eyes again. This time he could make out light and shadow, though nothing was yet clear. Above him, he could dimly see the gilded crossbeam carved with nine dragons, phoenixes, and lotus patterns.
“My Lord?” Nüying’s voice was plainly anxious.
He waited a little, and his vision gradually sharpened. Propping himself up, he leaned against the brocade couch. The furnishings of the bedchamber slowly came into focus around him. Li Yu rubbed his eyes. “Yesterday…”
“Yesterday, My Lord fainted at Guangliang Temple.”
Li Yu remembered that he had indeed been at Guangliang Temple, but everything afterward was impossible to distinguish from a nightmare born of sleep. At first, everything had been normal with the Young Elder. Then the scene had suddenly shifted, and he had been unable to see clearly.
“Do you still feel unwell anywhere? The imperial physician came yesterday.” Seeing that he was awake and seemed in no immediate danger, Nüying finally relaxed and offered him a cup of hot tea. “He said it was weakness of the body, with pent-up inner heat from the heart. Nothing serious. You only need to rest quietly and recover.”
No one else knew what Li Yu himself had felt. They merely assumed that the strain of the past days had exhausted both his mind and body. Nüying hesitated. “I did not mention the coughing of blood. If you still feel unwell, we should call someone to examine you again.”
“I have been much better for some time. Have I not been taking medicine all along?” His breathing had indeed been smooth for days and he had improved greatly. If word got out that the Ruler had such a frightening illness at his age, rumors would immediately spread through the palace. “Do not speak carelessly of it. If news of my illness reaches the north now, they will not wait even a moment.”
Nüying answered obediently. Seeing him drink his tea while looking toward the window, she asked, “What hour is it?”
“The Chen hour was just announced.”
“The light is poor today. Open both windows.”
Nüying paused, then followed his gaze outside without understanding what he meant. Seeing the osmanthus trees beyond the window in full season, she rose and opened both windows. “The fragrance of these osmanthus blossoms is wonderful.”
Li Yu leaned against a dragon-patterned cushion and tried to piece together everything from the day before. The hazy images that seemed both dream and waking only grew harder to grasp. “I remember the Young Elder was also at Guangliang Temple yesterday. Did he say anything?”
Nüying turned back to answer him. “The Elder only said My Lord was overcome with exhaustion and fainted before the Buddha. He insisted that My Lord must rest quietly and not overtax the mind again.”
Li Yu said nothing. Those scenes could not possibly have been real. Where could another person have come from in that secluded temple? It must have been nothing but a fevered dream of his own. He did not even know what nonsense he might have muttered aloud. As he was thinking, Nüying seemed to remember something. “The Elder said that while My Lord was unconscious, you kept calling someone’s name. He thought you were worrying too much over affairs of state.”
Li Yu went rigid. “Did he say whose name I was calling…” He had asked instinctively, wanting only to know whether anyone else had heard, but immediately regretted it. Better to have pretended not to know. Nüying stood by the window, hesitating as she considered how to phrase it without violating propriety. “He said… only that My Lord was calling the name of our suzerain… directly calling him by name…”
“Enough.” He cut her off abruptly. “I only need to rest. Go back to Fengque Palace first.” Turning slightly, he leaned farther into the couch. His eyes truly had been strange lately.
Nüying bowed and was about to leave, but when she reached the door she still felt there was something she had to ask. She had always been straightforward by nature. “There is no one else here. I have had a question in my heart for a long time. You… and our suzerain, did you know each other before?”
“Zhao Kuangyin?”
She naturally did not dare say the name herself. At his question, she gave a small sound of assent. Li Yu laughed softly. His slender shoulders, draped in white, were turned toward the doorway, so Nüying could not see his expression. She only heard the laugh.
Li Yu idly wound the tassels hanging from the edge of the brocade quilt around his fingers. “Know each other? Not really.”
“But…” Nüying’s gaze darkened. “No one under Heaven dares speak those three characters anymore. Only you… only you still dare call him by name.”
“So… what are you trying to say?” There seemed to be even more amusement in Li Yu’s tone. Nüying gathered her courage. She was not like Ehuang, someone capable of holding countless matters inside her heart. The more she thought about it, the more she felt she had to ask clearly.
“Nüying does not know what happened between you. It is only…”
“Only that you think the rites between sovereign and vassal that we show on the surface do not tell the whole story?” His fingers had twisted the jeweled tassels into a knot. His gaze fell again upon the scar on his wrist, and he pressed it lightly. “Nüying, what do you think of Jiangnan?” The sudden change of subject startled her, but she nodded and answered, “The osmanthus of three autumns and the misty rains of Qinhuai are known throughout the world.”
“Now that you are Queen of this country, the osmanthus of three autumns and the misty rains of Qinhuai are all your scenery. Nüying, have you not already received everything you wanted… Why must you know so clearly? And if you did know…” Li Yu’s voice abruptly sank. “Then Jiangnan would no longer be worth longing for. Your elder sister simply grew tired.” He remained serene in white, but his tone held none of its usual quietness. He spoke slowly, yet with a veiled, bewitching darkness that turned the calm morning air uncanny in an instant. Every word struck into her heart. Some things had become clearer, yet somehow even more impossible to peer into. Nüying went pale. “Elder Sister… what did she learn? Was her death connected to him?”
“Ehuang had nothing to do with him. But… I do.”
After those words, Nüying lowered her head in alarm and looked around. There was no one else nearby. Outside the bedchamber, a few sprays of osmanthus bloomed brightly, and from far away came the sound of monks chanting at Guangliang Temple.
A shell of gold and jade on the outside, yet within it a rotting body had become entwined. The sunlight was brilliant. It should have been a beautiful, clear morning.
“My Lord, rest well. This consort will take her leave.” Nüying hurried away.
Li Yu rose unhurriedly. His eyes seemed to have recovered, yet why did the weather look so dim? He walked quietly to the window and looked at the osmanthus. How much more would he have to pay before the debt could truly be redeemed?
In truth, you are hesitating too, are you not?
He sighed softly. The blossoms on the tree darkened in color.
Beneath the dazzling sunlight, the double pupils in one eye were even paler than the day before.
In the imperial painting academy at Bianjing, His Majesty had secretly ordered painters to work day after day from the sketch sent back by the Prince of Jin and complete a full portrait. Any southerner who saw the man in that painting would certainly have been astonished.
That afternoon, Zhao Kuangyin had a rare stretch of leisure and went for a walk with Wang Ji’en following him. He suddenly remembered that he had not attended to Zichen Palace in many days. “How has the Empress been lately?”
Wang Ji’en shook his head. “Ling’er says her mistress has remained deeply depressed.”
Zhao Kuangyin turned toward Zichen Palace. “Once affairs pile up, there truly is no time to attend to anything else. Her mother is gone…” She could now truly be called alone and without support. Though exalted as his Empress, these many days had brought her little glory.
After entering the inner palace, he had intended to go to the central palace, but beside the road he saw several palace maids outside Huanfang Palace holding various things and sorting through them. Zhao Kuangyin could not remember when he had assigned this palace to anyone. “Who lives here now?”
Wang Ji’en smiled ingratiatingly. “Has Your Majesty forgotten? Lady Huarui was only recently brought into the palace.”
Zhao Kuangyin paused. He had taken her in purely to anger the ruler of Shu. He had scarcely had time even for the Empress, much less to remember Lady Huarui. Still, she was a woman of great renown in Shu. He had heard that after her kingdom fell, Lady Huarui composed a poem: “The ruler raised the surrender flag atop the city wall; how could I, hidden deep within the palace, have known? One hundred forty thousand men all laid down their armor, and not one among them proved a man.”
Elio’s Notes: The quatrain recited here is traditionally attributed to Lady Huarui of Later Shu and is commonly known as Poem on the Fall of the Kingdom. Transmitted versions differ slightly in the final line; the novel uses the reading meaning “not one among them proved a man.”
Even if Zhao Kuangyin understood little of poetic refinement, he knew those lines could not have come from an ordinary woman. Curiosity stirred in him. Since he was already here today, he decided to have a look. He followed the path, intending afterward to go from Huanfang Palace to Yunjie’s residence. The moment Lady Huarui’s maids saw His Majesty, they hurriedly knelt in greeting. Zhao Kuangyin glanced at what they were carrying. “What is that?”
“Your Majesty, red sandalwood.”
Wang Ji’en’s expression changed at once. He hurried forward. “You have no sense of the rules. Who gave you permission to handle red sandalwood so casually?” No one had ever formally proclaimed such a rule, but ever since His Majesty ascended the throne, an unwritten prohibition had taken shape in the palace: red sandalwood was never to be mentioned before him, much less burned as incense. More than once, merely touching upon red sandalwood had provoked imperial fury. No one understood the reason, but everyone had learned to avoid the fragrance.
Lady Huarui had only just entered the palace and naturally knew nothing of this. Presumably she wanted to burn red sandalwood, which was why the maids had brought pieces out to select among them.
“This servant tried to advise Madam, but Madam would not listen. She thought it was only a joke.”
Wang Ji’en thought that His Majesty had only recently begun to relax and could not be allowed to lose his temper over this. He moved to dismiss them, but Zhao Kuangyin raised a hand. A killing chill had already entered his brows and eyes. “Madam ordered you to burn this incense? Then she must have always been fond of red sandalwood.”
The maids hurriedly answered yes.
Wang Ji’en lowered his head. “Your Majesty, she is new to the inner palace and does not know the rules. This slave was negligent. Let us visit the Empress first.” He meant to get Zhao Kuangyin away from the trouble and settle punishment later, but Zhao Kuangyin unexpectedly changed his mind. “I will go in and have a look. Wait outside.”
Wang Ji’en had no choice but to obey.
Only after entering the hall did Zhao Kuangyin realize that the fragrance of red sandalwood truly filled the entire place. His heart softened at once. This scent… it was like his tribulation. Every time he smelled it, something indescribable rose within him.
The opposition between them had already become almost impossible to change, yet the scent of red sandalwood always dragged old memories back to the surface. That was why he forbade anyone else to burn it. They were unworthy. After meeting that man, no one else in the world was worthy of this fragrance.
It is his soul… Zhao Kuangyin slowly walked into the inner chamber, sighing into the emptiness. He looked around and found no one.
Just as he was wondering where everyone had gone, movement came from behind a screen. A woman’s delicate voice sounded with mild reproach. “Why does it take so long just to burn some incense? How long have you been gone…” A woman in brocade stepped out. Her pale yellow gown seemed newly changed, and tassels at her temples set off a bright, striking face. Skin like ice, bones like jade, she truly did not shame the name Huarui, “flower pistil.” Her flowing eyes caught the light brilliantly. Hearing someone enter, she had assumed it was a servant bringing the incense and paid no attention. Then she suddenly saw the figure in imperial yellow and started in shock. It was His Majesty.
She was flustered for only an instant. Then Zhao Kuangyin watched her smile, soft and captivating. “This consort greets Your Majesty.” She gracefully began to kneel. It was called a formal salute, but Zhao Kuangyin could plainly see that she had left herself just enough room to pause, expecting him to step forward and help her rise. Lady Huarui clearly believed he would not truly make her complete the full obeisance.
Zhao Kuangyin gave a cold laugh and simply stood there watching. With her head lowered, Lady Huarui seethed inwardly. Could His Majesty truly be so lacking in gallantry that he meant to make her complete the entire rite? With no other choice, she knelt all the way down.
A Huarui spoiled rotten by indulgence.
Zhao Kuangyin spoke, his voice cold. “You are burning red sandalwood?”
“I am, Your Majesty.”
“Who gave you permission to burn it?”
“People have their own natures, and fragrant woods have theirs. There are a hundred kinds of people in the world, and fragrances too suit different tastes. Does Your Majesty dislike red sandalwood?”
Zhao Kuangyin had been letting the sandalwood fragrance calm his mind, but hearing Lady Huarui speak with such self-satisfied cleverness stirred his anger. His expression, however, remained unchanged. “So you also understand that fragrance follows the person.”
Huarui smiled. She truly was extraordinarily beautiful. Zhao Kuangyin slowly walked toward her and studied her closely. “Those brows and eyes are indeed well formed. No wonder Meng Chang was willing to hand over his realm for you.”
Lady Huarui frowned. “The affairs of my lost kingdom belong to the past. A woman in troubled times drifts like duckweed. Since Huarui now follows Your Majesty, I submit to Heaven’s decree.”
Zhao Kuangyin laughed. “Cleverer than I expected. Not merely a pretty shell.”
Lady Huarui’s smile grew even more alluring. “Then will Your Majesty allow this consort her red sandalwood?”
Zhao Kuangyin reached out and stroked her cheek. For a woman to possess such beauty truly made her a calamity capable of ruining a kingdom. “You are beautiful, and clever enough…” He bent slightly closer. Imperial favor seemed almost within reach, and Lady Huarui smiled sweetly in submission. Then Zhao Kuangyin’s hand suddenly tightened. He raised it and slapped her across that flower-bright face. Lady Huarui cried out and fell to the floor. Tears sprang to her eyes at once, and a red mark rose across her cheek. Never in her life had she suffered such humiliation.
“Unfortunately, you are unworthy of the spirit of red sandalwood! Only he can match it… only he. Anyone else merely defiles it!” Zhao Kuangyin erupted in sudden fury. Each word thundered in Lady Huarui’s ears until she dissolved into tears.
Seeing her on the floor, terrified, Zhao Kuangyin said, “I thought a woman capable of composing such a poem over the fall of her kingdom must possess uncommon bearing. What I see today is profoundly disappointing. Do you know why one hundred forty thousand men all laid down their armor? What use is there in lamenting it now?”
Lady Huarui stared fixedly at him without speaking. Zhao Kuangyin pointed to the auspicious-gold incense burner in the corner. “No one in my palace is permitted to burn red sandalwood. I will overlook this as your first offense. If I learn of it again…”
He turned and swept out of the hall.
Outside Huanfang Palace, several maids knelt trembling on the ground. Hearing the commotion within, they had no idea what to do with the pieces of red sandalwood in their hands. Zhao Kuangyin strode out. A perfectly good mood had once again been dragged into murky darkness by this fragrance. He reached down, took the sandalwood from them, and left without another word.
He had completely lost the desire to go to Zichen Palace. Alone, he returned to his study, where military maps of both banks north and south of the river covered the desk. He spread the pieces of red sandalwood across them. Never before had something he wanted been so difficult to obtain.
Even all under Heaven was already nearly within his grasp, yet that single figure alone remained beyond his control and understanding.
He was Zhao Kuangyin. What he wanted, he would obtain. Without that conviction, he would still be nothing more than a nameless general serving beneath someone else’s command.
“Someone! Go to the painting academy and press them about that portrait!”
Wang Ji’en hurried away.
Two days later, the portrait was indeed presented. His Majesty was extremely satisfied and ordered it hung in the Hall of Worthies under careful guard, then summoned Li Congshan into the palace. The Li clan truly seemed to have produced only one Li Hongji. Congshan’s nature could be read at a glance: gentle and mild. He could not compare with Li Yu’s incomparable grace, but the bearing of his whole person was still refined enough.
Since entering Bianjing, Li Congshan had seen everyone put on the full imposing dignity of the Song court. Meeting Zhao Kuangyin himself, however, he found the Emperor far less intimidating than he had imagined. Some of his tension eased as he accepted the summons and entered the palace.
His Majesty ordered Li Congshan to accompany him through the palace gardens to admire the autumn chrysanthemums. They walked along the covered corridors with only two or three attendants following at a distance. Zhao Kuangyin studied Li Congshan’s features closely. They were not entirely as fine as Li Yu’s. In the end, not everyone possessed that man’s innate grace. Even where there was some resemblance, it felt as though the soul were missing and the essence could not be captured. He stared long enough to lose himself. Li Congshan, meanwhile, grew increasingly puzzled under the Emperor’s gaze and finally could not help saluting. “Your Majesty?”
Zhao Kuangyin shook his head. “Nothing…” He turned to look beyond the corridor. “Jinling must have a different beauty at this time of year. The Ruler is surely enjoying a river of scenery with poems and elegant verse.”
“This minister has long resided in my own fief. I saw My Lord only shortly before departing.”
“How has he been lately?”
Li Congshan was silent for a moment. “My Lord has always possessed exceptional bearing. When I saw him this time, however, he seemed burdened by some knot of the heart.”
Zhao Kuangyin’s gaze darkened. “A knot of the heart…”
Li Congshan still had to preserve appearances. The opposition between the two states had already become unavoidable, and to say that the Ruler was doing poorly would also damage the dignity of the realm. Besides, he himself assumed it was because of the late Empress’s death. “Nothing serious. My Lord and the late Empress were always deeply devoted to one another. I imagine he is simply overwhelmed by grief over Empress Zhaohui’s passing.”
The moment he finished, Li Congshan distinctly felt the aura around the figure in imperial yellow tighten. Zhao Kuangyin gave a cold snort. “Deeply devoted. Yes, everyone praises them for it. I hear the Ruler has lately buried himself in Buddhist temples. I suppose that too is entirely because of Empress Zhaohui?”
“It is only human. The late Empress’s passing plunged the entire country into mourning.”
Zhao Kuangyin threw back his head and laughed. “What a fine thing, this ‘only human.’ The Ruler of Jiangnan truly is a man of rare devotion and righteousness!”
Li Congshan could not understand what he had said wrong, yet Zhao Kuangyin had plainly become angry, so he fell silent. The true Son of Heaven in imperial yellow remembered how that man had failed him three times, yet after Ehuang’s death he could sincerely mourn her to this day, and the pressure in his chest only worsened. “I heard that after Empress Zhaohui died, the Ruler poured out his heart and blood to compose an unparalleled eulogy for her. The Duke must know it well.”
Li Congshan nodded. “My Lord’s literary attainment is far beyond anything this minister could presume to judge. The depth of feeling in that eulogy is impossible to forget once heard.”
“Then recite it for me.” The tone allowed no refusal. Li Congshan could only obey. Beneath the palace corridor, he began to recite mournfully, “Heaven endures and earth is long-lasting; alas, mortal humankind. Desire prevails and grief and joy become entangled. Feeling finds its dwelling, and every encounter becomes its ford…”
Zhao Kuangyin listened in silence. Every word carried the breath of that blue-green figure. Each line summoned another strand of what had passed between them. On the wooden stairs of Shengding House, he had climbed slowly upward, hearing string after string and note after note drawn from that man’s very heart. The same heart’s blood had been poured into those sounds, until the figure leaning above the tower raised his wrist and tipped the cup, and Zhao Kuangyin had simply stood there, dazed and entranced, watching for so long.
“Who will mourn my lonely shadow? In secret I pity myself, my pain without end…” Li Congshan was still reciting when Zhao Kuangyin suddenly gave a cold laugh and cut off the rest. “Pain without end… yes, pain without end. So you do know what it feels like. I thought you had long ago become someone without grief or joy, someone who cared nothing for such attachments…”
The recitation stopped abruptly. Li Congshan stood beside him, completely at a loss, while Zhao Kuangyin’s imposing aura made it seem as though he were speaking only to himself. For a long while neither man said anything. Then Zhao Kuangyin suddenly looked at Li Congshan with deep meaning. “Soon. Very soon.”
Congshan looked confused, but His Majesty had already steadied his emotions and resumed walking. Following the corridor, they soon entered the garden of the Hall of Worthies, where portraits of famous Song generals had long been displayed to admonish and inspire. As though it were a casual thought, Zhao Kuangyin invited Li Congshan inside. “There is nothing pressing today. The Duke may as well go in and look around.”
Li Congshan could hardly refuse, so he followed him in. Every portrait showed a warrior of extraordinary vigor and unmistakably commanding bearing. Congshan was displeased. It was obviously meant as intimidation, yet the Emperor had dressed it up as an outing to admire chrysanthemums. While thinking this, he suddenly caught sight of one portrait that looked extremely familiar. “This is…”
Zhao Kuangyin had been looking elsewhere. Only when he heard the question did he slowly come over, his tone still mild. “Does the Duke know this man? I cannot quite remember. This is…” He stepped forward for a closer look and heard Li Congshan draw a sharp breath behind him. “Why is General Lin’s portrait hanging here?”
With his back to him, Zhao Kuangyin smiled faintly, then spoke as though the answer had only just occurred to him. “I had nearly forgotten. General Lin Renzhao is also a man of Jiangnan. I imagine his ties with the Tang state run quite deep.”
Li Congshan could not help becoming tense, and his voice rose noticeably. “May I ask how Your Majesty obtained this portrait?”
“There is no harm in telling you. Since the Ruler of Jiangnan has already declared himself a vassal, Song is now the suzerain. Last month, admiring General Lin’s ability, I specially summoned him to Bianjing. He has already agreed and sent this portrait ahead as proof of his loyalty.”
The moment those words fell, Li Congshan’s expression visibly changed. Anger surged inside him, but he could not speak it aloud. The tension remained until he finally endured the rest of the tour and was allowed to leave.
Congshan now had urgent business and wanted to return to Jiangnan to report what he had learned, but Zhao Kuangyin showed no intention whatsoever of letting him go. Just then, the palace received another memorial from the Ruler of Jiangnan.
“Li Yu is asking me to let Li Congshan return.”
After Zhao Kuangyin finished reading the memorial, Zhao Pu watched him think and said, “The tribute mission is already complete. By ordinary principle, there is indeed no reason to keep Li Congshan in Bianjing any longer. The plan devised by the Prince of Jin and Your Majesty has also succeeded. This is precisely the time to let him return.”
Zhao Kuangyin pressed the memorial flat against the desk. “It is rare for Li Yu to be worried and anxious, so I will not let him go.” It was just like years ago when Zhao Kuangyin had still been an envoy of Zhou. The matter had already been settled, yet he had deliberately refused to cross the river and made Li Congjia wait seven straight days. It was not simply to toy with him. Whenever something involved Li Yu, Zhao Kuangyin’s temper became unusually quick to flare.
Zhao Pu could only feel helpless. The Ruler of Jiangnan truly was unique under Heaven. Not only had he angered His Majesty again and again, he had repeatedly shifted the course of the entire situation. In the end, the Prince of Jin’s worries were not unfounded. If Zhao Guangyi had not personally risked himself by entering Jiangnan and thereby given His Majesty someone there to worry about, then with all the hesitation surrounding any plan for Jiangnan, the matter would surely have dragged into yet another round of delay and calculation.
Zhao Pu secretly admired him. The Prince of Jin had indeed thought far ahead. This move had forced His Majesty into a position from which he could not retreat no matter what. This war would have to be fought.
No one knew what had truly happened. Zhao Kuangyin was not a man who hesitated easily. Every other dependent state had been recovered with decisive force. Yet Jiangnan alone had become a taboo. If fortune allowed it, Zhao Pu genuinely hoped to meet that Ruler one day and see what sort of demon could possibly have such an effect.
As Zhao Pu was thinking, Zhao Kuangyin suddenly spoke again. “Draft an edict. Appoint Li Congshan Military Governor of Fengning Circuit.”
Elio’s Notes: The novel’s raw explicitly appoints Li Congshan Military Governor of Fengning Circuit. Historical accounts more commonly record his Song appointment as Military Governor of Taining Circuit. FD follows the novel’s wording here rather than silently correcting the source.
Though he did not understand His Majesty’s intent, Zhao Pu accepted the order and withdrew.
When the news reached Jiangnan, Li Yu understood Zhao Kuangyin’s meaning perfectly there in the hall. He was simply detaining Congshan to keep him from returning and to watch Li Yu become angry. At this point, what was the point of being angry or not? Li Yu threw down the edict that had come from the Northern Court, turned, and left Weiyang Hall.
In deep autumn, the osmanthus trees behind Weiyang Hall were especially fragrant. A few bolder palace maids had secretly come forward to pick blossoms to take back with them. The Ruler rarely left Guangliang Temple to attend affairs in the hall, and normally it took a long time before he emerged. Today, however, Li Yu had become angry, abandoned everyone inside, and hurried out. The maids cried out in alarm and rushed forward to salute.
Li Yu rubbed his temple and looked at what they were holding. “Osmanthus?” Dressed in white beneath the flowering tree, he was graceful beyond compare. The maids, however, cared only that they might have breached etiquette and all looked tense.
Seeing their expressions, Li Yu’s anger dispersed as well. “Enough. What are you panicking for? Get up.” Watching them relax, he quieted himself and raised a hand toward the tree. “Flowers bloom in every season. This too is a fine time of year.” Then he glanced at the dim sky. “Only the weather has been poor these past few days. I fear autumn rain may be coming.” Shaking his head as though regretting it, he walked away.
The palace attendants watched the Ruler’s white-robed figure drift away, all of them momentarily spellbound. After a long while, the maid in front turned and looked up. The sky was bright and it was a perfectly clear day. “What a strange thing for My Lord to say. The sunlight is dazzling today. How does this look anything like autumn rain?”
Another maid tugged at her sleeve and gathered up the flowers. “You have grown bold enough to discuss My Lord now? Hurry back.”
At Guangliang Temple, the Young Elder rose and pushed open the window. Young monks were sweeping the stone steps below. “The sun has been strong these past few days, yet the chill has deepened. The night wind has blown down so many dead leaves.”
The Young Elder gazed into the daylight and smiled faintly, then closed the window.