The sun blazed all day, and yet at night, a gentle drizzle began to fall.
Footsteps echoed through the rain, sounding oppressively heavy.
Pei Jue sat alone under a solitary lamp; wisps of smoke curled from the tea before him.
After a moment, Zuo Zhong bowed at the door and reported, "My lord, Mr. Tang has arrived."
Pei Jue gave a faint "Mm," and said nothing.
Through the rainy night, Tang Shaogong walked in, dressed in a loose-sleeved hemp robe of pale autumn white—almost like mourning attire—with raindrops clinging to him, his hair half-damp.
"My lord."
He lightly brushed off the rainwater and bowed to Pei Jue.
Pei Jue lifted his gaze but said nothing, gesturing for Zuo Zhong and the attendants to withdraw.
"Yes, my lord," Zuo Zhong and his men filed out in single order.
Pei Jue spoke, "Close the door."
Tang Shaogong turned to shut the door, then approached Pei Jue again, standing tall before him.
