Fan Xian wandered the streets somewhat absent-mindedly. The rain drenched his shirt, chilling his body, yet his heart was burning hot. He was watching the streets of Qing; the carriages that traveled across them, some rich family’s windows, the kaleidoscopes he often saw, the slippery soap… He was able to connect all of that in an instant.
It was as if his mother left her mark on all of it! On this street, in that room, under the heavens; that woman’s presence seemed to be everywhere.
The last part of that letter read, "I am so very lonely."
Before today, Fan Xian felt that way too. But not anymore. He began laughing loudly. His laughter carried far away, waking up the people who had gone to sleep early on this rainy night.
Someone cursed at him.
He was still smiling.
