"Last night the rain was sparse and the winds were fierce. Though I slept soundly all night I was still not sober upon waking. I asked the maid who opened the curtains how the flowering apple trees were. She said they were the same as before. Does she not know? Does she not know? Their green leaves should be blooming, the red flowers withered away." Under the tree, Fan Xian quietly recited, his voice gentle, unsure whether he spoke of people or things. This was the first time that the immortal poet Fan Xian had recited poetry since that night in the palace. [1]
Haitang calmly looked over his slender, even emaciated body, and gradually relaxed the grip on her sword.
"If you want to fight, then I shall fight." Fan Xian suddenly turned around, looking at Haitang with a smile on his face and a look of determination. "But one day, I would like to see, even without these sobering methods, whether I can protect Xiao En's life from your hand, Haitang."
