"The passage of time has always been recorded incidentally, a byproduct of the tumultuous dynasties. Though its consistency is often overlooked, it's the only sustaining thread throughout the millenniums of history. Comparatively speaking, our lives are merely drops of water, hardly splashing, as they're washed away in the flow of the river."

Lifting his brush, Lu Yu stared at the pretentious words on the page. These words marked the beginning of his final work, his pride and joy, yet he felt nothing but disgust for them. They smirked back, haughty, dismissing his life with a few all-encompassing verses. Anger bubbled in his chest as they ridiculed his insignificance, taunting his worth.

Must even his last work in this world be documented with humble ambiguity? If not, how will the people perceive him with his naked thoughts stated plainly in black and white? He's not Confucius, there would be no Mencius to speak about the vicissitudes of his life. Blotting out the previous words with a heavy stroke, he replaced the opening paragraph;

"The self-biography of Lu Yu, Lu Zihao."

The 7th year of Chende, Chang'an city

"Did you hear? The Lu family?"

"Aish, ending just like this? What a downfall."

"Pity, that child. Only 10 years old, to go through such hardships-"

"Shhh! Here they come!"

A boy dressed in burlap mourning robes walked despondently past the crowd of onlookers. Holding a wooden tablet, he shuffled forward, his face wan, pale from lack of good rest, and hollow as if he hadn't eaten for days. He stared soullessly at the ground as he walked forward. If it weren't for the entourage following him, one might mistake the child for an orphaned refugee.

It was a grand procession. Long white banners, tangled with the wind, wrestling against an invisible force. Paper coins twisted away, twirling in the air before crumpling into the dirt path. The lone wail of a Suona pierced through the streets of the capital, joined by a choir of sobbing servants.

"Wahhhhh! *Sniff* Why did the Master have to leave so early! *Hic*"

"Let the heavens be merciful and bestow him a long life in the next birth."

*Sob* "Don't worry Master, you will always be remembered."

"Ahem, Young Master, shouldn't you say something?"

"Young Master, you should show some sincerity."

"..."

Waiting for a response, the wailing paused momentarily, but the child didn't react. He ignored their words of persuasion, continuing to shuffle forward without a pause. The servants seemed used to his reaction (or lack thereof) and immediately regained their composure. As if to compensate for the moment of silence, they resumed with renewed vigor. Tear ducts began to flow, and incoherent wails filled the streets once again. Sensing a good show, the onlookers began to gossip.

"Such an unfeeling child. He isn't even mourning at his father's funeral!"

"Maybe he's in shock? After all, the Chancellor died so suddenly."

"I say, with a family like that, who could blame him?"

"The 9th of the Hundred Noble Houses? I'd thank the earth and heavens for their generous blessing!"

A burst of mocking laughter filled the private room of a restaurant that overlooked the street where the procession was approaching. Several prominent officials that once sought to overturn the authority of the Lu family gathered here today to observe the fruition of their efforts.

"Sigh, we'd been at each other's throats since we passed the imperial exams. Now that he's gone, I feel somewhat empty."

"You old, shameless thing, don't cry crocodile tears in front of us. If you really miss him, go follow him in death!"

"You might even catch up to that bastard before he's reborn. Meet on Naihe bridge and all that."

"How romantic, haha."

"The muscle-brained general's right for once, no one's stopping you. Go ahead."

"Hey! Who are you calling muscle-brained?"

Initially, they had no intention of meeting. Each had come of their own accord to gloat at the fall of their political enemy, but continuing to stay aloof after running into former allies seemed too cold-blooded, so they begrudgingly congregated once again. But the atmosphere held taut in this pack of crouching wolves as if they've silently agreed that this would be their last amicable gathering.

"Who's here to send off their beloved patriarch?"

"That pretty son of his."

"Humph, such a frail scholar, even his seeds are weak."

"Oho, what makes you say so?"

"My wife said she heard from the Ning family's second daughter. That one's a girl no doubt."

"Really? The Lu family is shameless to this degree?"

"Aren't they renowned for their understanding of propriety? What an exemplary sense of propriety this is."

"Ha! How impressive was Lu Feng? To end up with such a desolate ending, only one thing can be said about that; karma!"

As the procession wound through the city, more and more people came to see what the ruckus was about. Soon enough, it was bustling like a festival. The streets were filled with people craning their necks to catch sight of them.

"Hey, hey. Are they leaving through the western gate?"

"Looks like it, why?"

"Tsk! The Ning manor is that way!"

"Really? Let's follow! There's bound to be a good show!" Rising from their observation point, the group of idle officials relocated to the front steps of the Ning manor, blending in the crowd with their casual garb.

Many others had the same idea. A large group of gossip mongers formed behind the procession, following for an interesting performance.

The tension thickened, becoming increasingly suffocating as the group approached the Ning manor. With each step, the boy's heart grew heavier with reluctance, and his pace gradually came to a halt. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath to prepare for what was to come.

"I wonder how the Lu's will react when they see her."

"The person has left and the tea has gone cold. How else would they react?"

"You haven't seen it?"

"Seen what?"

"You'll understand in a moment."

As if on cue, the party turned the corner, exposing billowing curtains of red silk, swaying lanterns, and strings of firecrackers that embellished the Ning manor. The entire building was draped in crimson fabric, with even the servants manning the door dressed in the jubilant color. Stunned by such blatant disrespect for the dead, the gossiping intensified.

"How can they be so heartless?"

"Chancellor Lu used to be their son-in-law after all."

"They divorced 2 years ago, breaking off all association with one another. Who would give face to a total stranger?"

"But to be celebrating this way… isn't that too much?"

A soft nudge woke young Lu Yu from his stupor. He had been dreading this moment. Hands trembling, he gritted his teeth and headed towards the chaos, hoping to just get it over with. When they reached the front of the manor, strings of firecrackers were lit. The explosions startled the boy. Still, he tried to ignore the distraction, continuing with a solemn step despite the unruly disturbances. His efforts were in vain, as a few seconds later, he was left with no choice but to break his posture.

"*Gasp* There she is!"

"Where? Where?"

"The side door, that one, on the left."

"Why's a respectable daughter of legitimate status exiting from the side door?"

"For a woman who's been divorced, what status do they have anymore?"

"True…"

"Well, at least she left that burning house when she could."

"Fortunate, or she'd become a widow!"

Standing there between the draping red decorations was Ning Wan, Commandery Princess Qing, the second daughter of the Baihe Ning house, third of the Hundred Noble Houses, and Lu Yu's birth mother. It seemed as if she had not aged a day since he last saw her.

Suddenly without warning, Lu Yu was hit with a sense of nostalgia, taken back to a peaceful afternoon three years ago. She was calling to him with a warm smile, her face distorted by the sunlight behind her. His father stood to the side, his brows relaxed for once as he looked upon them.

The boy dismissed the fleeting memory with a sneer. A week later, he'd been shipped off on a carriage to the ancestral home, returning only to find his parents divorced.

Ning Wan strolled towards the funeral procession shamelessly, dressed head to toe in red silks. Accents of gold twisting in her elaborate hairstyle, enhance the vibrant color. With every step she took, the dangling metals collide to produce a cacophonic tune. Clenching his father's memorial tablet Lu Yu tried to suppress his anger.

"Young miss! Young miss! It's so windy today, you can't just run out like this! Your shoes, please wear them! You'll catch a cold." A maid emerged out of the same door, running after her mistress in a hurry. She carried a pair of small silk shoes, holding them out in front of her, but after realizing that they had an audience, she frantically hid them in her sleeves.

"Miss, we'll need to visit the Old Master soon, so please don't waste any more time." Another voice joined. It was an older maid, more mature, as she didn't even bat an eye at the crowds of people watching from the street.

"Leave me, I just need a moment here." Ning Wan finally turned around.

"Miss, the guests are already here. If you run out now, how will I explain to the Old Master?" The maid stood forward to protest.

"I will talk to Father, there's no need for you to worry."

"But the guest-"

"Begonia, how many times will you make me repeat myself? You don't need to remind me of my duties. You may go. Xiao Li, my slippers."

"Yes-"

"But miss!"

"You forget yourself, Begonia."

"... Please be quick. I will wait for you at the door."

Ning Wan hastily strode in front of the procession. Startled by such an aggressive stance, Lu Yu quickly fell to his knees, strategically placing himself behind the coffin. Sharp rocks stabbed the boy's knees, sinking into his flesh, but his pride chained him to the ground.

Meanwhile, the audience was completely enraptured by Ning Wan's every movement. She was an incredibly beautiful woman, her unblemished features earning her the Grand Empress Dowager's appreciation. Now, with her beauty enhanced by the glamorous garb, many of those who criticized the Ning family before completely forgot their arguments, and focused solely on the figure of the goddess-like being.

"The No.1 beauty of Wei. Truly worthy of the title!"

"Goddess! She really is a goddess!"

"Look at that figure!"

"I've found my muse! Divine inspiration has blessed my work. Now surely my play will be a hit!"

"This brother best be careful. I'm sure that the Ning family's second miss will definitely become the muse for many famed writers."

"I thank this gentleman for the warning, but those old buggers won't even have their first draft done by the time actors start singing my lyrics! They'll only be playing with leftovers."

Despite the exciting atmosphere, Lu Yu held his silence as he stayed hunched behind the cart as Ning Wan stepped towards her ex-husband's casket. She grasped onto the side, trying to lift the lid off. A sense of dread washed over Lu Yu as he watched her struggle with the wooden frame. After a few strained seconds, it seemed that the weight of the lid had persuaded her to give up. Pulling away, her hands clenched into fists before dropping to the side, defeated. At this time, Begonia, the maid, had grown impatient.

"Miss, we really must go now. The guests are waiting, and the Old Master is calling us to the main house."

"Tell them I'll be right there."

Throwing one last look at the coffin, a flash of reluctance crossed her face before she turned back to the manor, and disappeared behind the side door. Lu Yu stood up from behind the cart, his eyes filled with pain as he stared at his mother's retreating figure.