Ling Li summoned Shi Min to her study the following day, the aroma of freshly brewed tea mingling with the hints of sandalwood from the incense burning softly in the corner. The air was still heavier than usual, as if the house itself held its breath, anticipating something significant.
Outside, the gentle rustle of leaves whispered secrets of the day. At the same time, the other gentlemen were engrossed in their foreign language lessons, oblivious to the brewing storm of conversation awaiting Shi Min.
“Mom, I’m here,” Shi Min announced, stepping into the warm, inviting space with its ornate wooden furniture and the mystical flicker of candles casting shadows along the walls.
“Shi Min. Read this,” Ling Li said, an unusual tremor darkening her tone as she handed him a delicate, folded card. Its edges were intricately embossed, an emblem from Otako that Shi Min recognized instantly.