Li Ming sat down in front of his seat again. This time, however, he rummaged through drawers of blank letters.
After finding the appropriate aged paper to use to send to the recipient, Li Ming dipped the feather pen in ink.
Savoring the smell of ink, Li Ming's uneasy mind calmed down.
Li Ming wrote one elegant character after another, getting lost within the rhythm of the pen.
By the time Li Ming had finished writing the letter, the sun was already beginning to set.
Hiring an errand boy to send the letter to its respective recipient had drained Li Ming's energy.
After letting out a sigh, Li Ming walked back to his house.
The steps of Li Ming stilled as he lifted his head towards the sky.
The setting sun hung low over the horizon, casting the world in a gentle blaze of amber and gold. Light spilled over rooftops like melted honey, gilding the edges of tiled eaves and casting elongated shadows that danced slowly across the cobbled streets. The air was tinged with the earthy scent of dusk—smoke from household fires, the faint trace of stewed herbs, and the familiar, nostalgic aroma of sun-warmed stone.
It was the scent of home.
The streets of Beijing calmed down from the bustle of the day as paper lanterns began to light up. The ringing joy of children at play mixed with the sober tones of men echoed through the streets. Living in the world is mesmerized in more ways than one.
Amidst the crowd stood Li Ming. His plain gray robe did not catch the eye, nor did the simple way his black hair was tied into a full topknot. His skin, moderately fair, and his features, devoid of striking beauty, offered him the quiet armor of anonymity.
Li Ming bent his black eyes, gently holding a smile barely noticeable.
Maybe getting lost in this world is a blessing.
Two days later
A carriage carried by 4 robust horses arrived in front of Li Ming's house.
An errand boy had opened the door of the carriage, through which a handsome, scholarly young man descended."
"Please follow my instructions, We're undercover." Crown Prince Ming
"Apologies, your highness." The errand boy apologized
"As consideration of the fact that this is your first time accompanying this prince here, you're pardoned for your action." Crown Prince Ming let go of this offense.
Crown Prince Ming Fei dismissed his servant and headed inside Li Ming's House on his own.
After arriving in front of Li Ming's house, Ming Fei politely knocked to indicate his arrival.
Li Ming walked out of his study room. Walking with steady steps in the narrow wooded hallway lighted by the occasional rays of sunlight, Li Ming arrived in front of his front door knob.
Li Ming unlocked and opened the door in one quick motion.
Outside the door stood a striking young man clad in plain black robes. Though the garments were simple in cut and devoid of any embellishment, they seemed to deepen the aura that surrounded him rather than diminish it, like a moon veiled in shadow, all the more radiant for its restraint.
The folds of his robes fluttered lightly in the breeze, their dark fabric soft as silk and catching the faintest glimmers of afternoon light. His presence, calm yet arresting, had the gravity of still water—reflective and profound, concealing unknown depths beneath the surface.
His long black hair, smooth as flowing ink, was tied into a loose topknot, from which several strands had slipped free, cascading elegantly over his shoulders. A silver ornament, slender and intricate, gleamed faintly where it held his semi-topknot in place, catching the sunlight like a shard of moonlight woven into his hair.
But it was his eyes that commanded the most attention—clear, brown, and unflinchingly steady. They held a strange contradiction, a gentle warmth like spring's first breeze, yet within them glimmered a hidden edge, sharp and unyielding as forged steel.
His figure was slender, almost delicate, as if his body bore the fragility of someone often unwell. And yet that frailty gave him an ethereal grace, like a willow bending but never breaking in the wind. There was no grandeur in his stance, no overt pride—but a quiet dignity clung to him, cultivated like ink on a scholar's brush, refined and impossible to counterfeit.
Watching the figure of the 16-year-old Li Ming, Crown Prince Ming Fei curved his eyes and said in a bright tone.
"Hello! Master"