The bright and cheerful girl opened her heart to her in the night rain that soaked everything, the plum wine sour and biting under the solitary lamp, and she, with boisterous drunken bravado, clapped her on the shoulder and shouted.
"One day, you'll be Chief Court Envoy, and I'll be Vice Director, with our paired swords, we'll rise above them all!"
"To us becoming Court Envoys!"
She stood in a daze, her gaze falling into the distance.
The mist gradually dissipated, revealing a clearer past.
There was a woman with a sallow face amidst the red beauty of flowers, a warm and upright scholar in a fishmonger's stench-filled grass hut, a long-bearded man babbling on and on, a brash woman who, wishing a good Imperial City husband for her daughter, secretly handed over a basket of plums...
They laughed and talked, passing by her side, their commonplaces and old sayings slowly solidifying into delicate, intricate threads, which entangled her, weaving a soft and expansive net over her.