Jian stubbornly shook his head. "If Ishirō gives me as much as one funny look..." And again they heard the metallic clank of his sword rattling in its sheath.
Shufeng, looking at Jian, calmly smiled and soothed: "When Consort mother and I were locked within those cold walls, we were only remembered as a source of shame. Then after she died I was forgotten for fifteen years as if I had been thrown into the bottom of a deep well.
"Tonight, the filthy looks and the rude words, be it from the guests or Ishirō, they are nothing to me. What I have endured over the years gave me an insight that certainly slows down my anger and helps me to overlook an offence. I am numb towards this sort of petty provocation. So please, do not torment yourself because of me. Learn to let go of your anger as hastily as it enters you."
Afterwards, Shufeng turned towards Li Ji: "The same goes for you. You must learn to curb your stormy temper."
