43 Sharing A Cup (1/2)

Ruan Wang woke up some time in the middle of the night with a horrible headache.

”My lord, you're awake!” Xu Fei cried as he quickly rushed to the bedside.

”What happened?” He asked as he rubbed his head.

”I'm uncertain, Duke Ming Xiang had sent a servant saying that my lord has fainted. The good news is that the doctor said that rest is the best treatment.”

”Where is the young man?” Ruan Wang suddenly remembered something.

”Uh… Who?” Xu Fei asked he was confused as to what his lord was talking about. After thinking about it, he said: ”My lord, the scholars were sent home.”

Ruan Wang nodded a bit before going back to sleep. Perhaps his mind was too muddled and he saw something that did not truly exist outside of his imagination. Who knew if that face that he thought there was some familiarity to was real in the first place. Maybe it was a sense of longing that gave him hallucinations, but they weren't that bad at all, at least he could still meet people who had long gone.

Xu Fei hesitatingly retreated, wondering if his lord's mind was starting to unravel, after so many years of solitude. He had heard tales of a young maiden whose mind unraveled when she was confined for days and separated from her lover who did not have the same status as her. It was when there was a large fire somewhere in the capital that he heard of such an occurrence.

His lord's mind would not be so frail, would it?

He abruptly stopped those thoughts there.

~

Within a small house that was built over the pier. The white foam waves were splashing into the wooden structures firmly planted int the grounds as a pillar of support. The weather was too cool for anyone to be outside.

There was one lone figure that was sitting with glassy eyes, pouring himself a drink in his pristine porcelain cup. Gulping the liquor down as fast as he poured it. The strong and spicy liquor was burning his tongue as he continued his empty gaze across to the cold yet beautiful scenery that was the single most prosperous pier of the entire capital of Qing Cheng.

There were countless ships that docked to unload and reload goods before setting off again. At the dim of night, lanterns would be lit to give some semblance of light. The lanterns cast an eerie red glow at the deck of each ship. It was not difficult to spot such a ship a few miles away.

This little house that was built over the river was in just the perfect spot to look at everything. Such places could be used as restaurants or wineries, but these places would close down when it became too cold to have a meal comfortably outside.

Lin Qinghui sat in such a barren house, silently sipping the wine.

A pair of footsteps came closer, nearly blending with the few gusts of wind outside. The footsteps stopped as the person expected that Lin Qinghui would turn around, but their hopes were dashed when the young man resumed drinking the liquor.

With a sigh, the person said: ”Mister Song's signature liquor was never meant to be drunk in such large amounts.”