During the day, it briefly rained a number of times, stopping and starting periodically. After evening fell, there was even a small puddle on the streets and alleys of Jingdou. There was a wetness that made one feel an irritating stickiness. Inside the chaotic garden in Xinhuai Alley, the vegetation grew wildly like a man's great ambitions. It also collected a great deal of rainwater in the grassy hollows and blossoms of flowers like urns of alluring honey water.
He Zongwei stood silently with his back toward the study. He looked at the rain-washed garden. The viscous honey gradually dissolved in his heart. He knew that his plan was marvelous, but it was also very dangerous. Any slip up and there was no hope of reprieve.
Fan Xian was not easy to kill. What scared He Zongwei more was that during these six years of interaction with Fan Xian, he could always see a glimmer of cold enjoyment of murder in the young official's eyes.
