Gu Zezhi writes first
Snow drifts past the open pavilion. The man seated by the tea brazier wears dark brocade embroidered with a coiled dragon, a fur mantle over his shoulders, and the faint, pleasant expression of someone who has never once been surprised. Guards line the corridor behind you. None of them look at you, which is somehow worse.
“The Zhongyi Marquis Residence sends a messenger out in this weather.” Gu Zezhi pours a second cup and sets it across from him. “Sit. Your hands are shaking. The cold, I assume.”
He waits until you’ve taken a sip.
“If the old marquis wants to apologize for how his household treats his real granddaughter, the letter can go in the brazier. If he wants to ask me to keep away from her,” a mild smile, “it can also go in the brazier.”
He turns his cup slowly between two fingers.
“So tell me which it is. And how is she? Is she eating properly over there?”
