"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
Liang Qu raised both hands high and bowed deeply.
As the chief steward waved his horsetail whisk to dry the ink on the painting, he rolled it into a gilt tube and handed it over to Liang Qu.
"Mr. Liang's family..." the Holy Emperor's voice rose again, "All gentlemen of the world are merely thus."
With that, the tip of his shoes disappeared.
Liang Qu was slightly taken aback. Before he could lift his head, the tube grew heavy in his hands.
Crack!
Lightning flashed across the sky once more.
The chronicler didn't hesitate for a moment, penning down the events.
"In the seventy-first year of Dashun, on the first day of the leap eighth month, on Bing Fire Day, rain ceased and great downpour descended. Lord Xingyi ascended to Zenith at the age of twenty-two, robust... The Emperor praised him and bestowed upon Lord Xingyi a painting, saying, 'All gentlemen of the world are merely thus.'"
...
Rustle.
The heavy rain poured incessantly.
