Of course Shufeng remembered that day and her promise.
The sky was a deep and clear blue. The willow-leaf pear tree blossom had begun its bloom, and the white flowers waved in the breeze.
It was April.
He was eighteen to her fifteen-sixteen, and he had seen something he liked and he had to have it. It was she; a beauty that made the flowers weep and the moon hide, and a warm heart that promised him endless sunshine; who was the blinded light when he felt like a ghost in a world of paper dolls, always looking in the blackness for a blessed spark.
***
... "So, you are the Second Prince, his little brother?" The young girl shyly peeked at him from behind Taizong's wide back. The tiny gold dangling bells of her earrings tinkled daintily as she cocked her head to the side. In just about the time it took Shufeng to blink once, her timidness dissipated and she stepped forward with a respectful bow.
