A few days passed, and the weather grew increasingly hot.
The nanmu screen in front of the Board of Rites Office, carved with a massive elephant symbolizing a "peaceful scene," also seemed wilted under the relentless sun, losing its former splendor.
Jin Xianrong was particularly intolerant of the heat and had long since ordered ice to be placed in the corners of his room. On a stuffy summer afternoon, there was not a hint of the heat within his abode, and the sweet fragrance wafted from the incense burner on the table. Jin Xianrong, lounging on a recliner by the window and leisurely fanning himself, occasionally popped a grape chilled in ice into his mouth, his contentment rivaling that of immortals.
