That evening, Cheng Chu came to the Marquis Duanjing's residence. Since Yan Qing had returned from his estate, he had holed up in the house for several days, refusing even invitations to drink, claiming he was too lazy for that. In fact, he hadn't gone out for any other kind of fun either.
Without Yan Qing venturing out, the circle of dandies in the Capital seemed to have lost its soul. Cheng Chu found even his own amusements dull without him.
One day, unable to stand it any longer, Cheng Chu went to the Marquis Duanjing's residence to look for Yan Qing. He was curious to see what Yan Qing was up to, spending all this time cooped up at home.
Upon arriving, he saw Yan Qing lying on a lounge chair like a big lazy cat, exuding an air of indolent decay, as if his entire body was made of laziness.
When Yan Qing saw him, he only lazily lifted his eyes to glance at him.
Cheng Chu watched him in puzzlement. "Brother Yan, are you sick?"
