Gu Jian had indeed handed a memorial to the palace, which was sent to the emperor that day and also to Chu Yi.
Lanterns were lit in the East Warm Pavilion. The candlelight shone softly, making it as bright as day.
"What do you think, Chu Yi?"
The Emperor, who was dressed in a bright yellow robe with a golden plate and dragon patterns, looked up at the white-robed young man sitting on the other side of the coffee table, then turned to look at the small red clay stove beside him. There was a purple sand pot on the stove, which emitted a faint sound of boiling water.
When the water boiled, the Emperor skillfully began to heat the cups, wash the tea, brew, seal the pot, divide the cups… The entire set of tea-making actions was smooth and elegant.
The multicolored parrot on the brass bird rack chirped. The atmosphere was warm and relaxed.
Chu Yi sat upright on a rosewood armchair. He held the memorial in his right hand and skimmed through it.
