Ming Huashang was having another nightmare. In the dream, Zhao Cai was holding a parcel of pine nuts, grumbling that they had been roasted too long — and then in the blink of an eye, Zhao Cai was lying in a pool of blood, a great gaping wound torn in her abdomen, flesh and blood exposed, blood pouring everywhere. Ming Huashang tried to pull Zhao Cai up, but the moment she touched her, Zhao Cai transformed into a malevolent ghost, whispering coldly, “It’s all your fault I died. Why wasn’t it you who died?”
Yes — why wasn’t it her?
Ming Huashang felt as if someone had a hand clamped around her throat. She gasped for breath, great lungfuls of it, but still couldn’t get air into her lungs. She clutched at something desperately in her suffocation, and then a pair of hands gripped her firmly and pulled her into a strong embrace. “Shang’er, don’t be afraid — I’m here.”
The ghoul howled and cackled in her ears. Ming Huashang wanted to run, but her body would not move at all. Those warm hands held her the entire time, lightly patting her back, murmuring close to her ear, “I’m here.”
I’m here.
These words were like a holy incantation against evil. One by one, the dark shadows crowding her in the dream faded away. Ming Huashang’s body gradually relaxed. She tilted her head, and was finally able to sink into a calm sleep.
Ming Huazhang waited until her breathing had evened out, then carefully eased her back down onto the bed. He hadn’t expected that Ming Huashang, like someone drowning, would start breathing rapidly and become agitated again the moment she touched the mattress. Ming Huazhang had no choice but to grip her hand firmly and keep close watch over her without taking a single step away. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Lady Ming frowned at this sight. “Has she run into something unclean? Shouldn’t we summon a high monk to drive out the evil?”
Duke Zhenguo heard this and hesitated as well. Ming Huashang had never suffered hardship her whole life — even the prick of a needle on her fingertip had once been enough to make her throw a fit and refuse to continue learning embroidery. To suddenly be confronted with the death of someone close to her — she had likely been badly frightened. Duke Zhenguo couldn’t help asking, “Which high monk is best for driving out evil?”
“There’s no need,” said Ming Huazhang. He carefully wiped the sweat from Ming Huashang’s brow and spoke without turning his head. “She is brave — she would not be frightened by the sight of a body at all. And besides, even if there are truly ghosts in this world, they would have to be Zhao Cai. Zhao Cai was closest to Shang’er of anyone. If her spirit lingers beside her, it must be to protect her. What evil is there to drive out?”
Lady Ming frowned. “If she hasn’t been touched by something unclean, why has she become like this?”
Ming Huazhang watched her brow furrow even in her sleep, and kept hold of her hand. “She is only racked with guilt. She believes she was the one who caused Zhao Cai’s death. Shang’er — Zhao Cai will not hurt you, and will not blame you. You must get well soon, so that Zhao Cai won’t worry.”
Lady Ming saw the overly intimate gestures between Ming Huazhang and Ming Huashang and knit her brow. “If she really has to clutch someone’s hand to sleep, let the maids keep watch. Second Young Master has other affairs to attend to and can’t stay here all the time.”
“It’s all right,” Ming Huazhang said softly. “Nothing matters more than she does. I am willing to stay with her.”
The displeasure on Lady Ming’s face grew more pronounced. She turned to look at Duke Zhenguo, her meaning absolutely clear.
Rein in your son — or do you want a scandal on your hands, one that will become known far and wide?
Duke Zhenguo had been in the room since the previous night, so it was quite apparent to him that since Ming Huazhang’s return, Ming Huashang had been much calmer — no longer plagued by the unrelenting nightmares she had suffered through the night before. He looked at the clasped hands of Ming Huazhang and Ming Huashang and, in the end, could not bring himself to separate them. “Shang’er has been having nightmares all night. It’s rare for her to sleep peacefully — let her rest properly for a while. Mother, you’re tired too. Let me walk you back.”
Lady Ming heard Duke Zhenguo’s words and was so angry she thought she would burst from her seven openings. She shook her sleeve forcefully and snapped in fury, “Very well. I’m old now — what I say carries no weight. You raised these children, you can pamper them to your heart’s content. Let’s see what a mess you make of the Ming family.”
With that, Lady Ming swept out in a fury. Duke Zhenguo shot a brief apologetic glance at Ming Huazhang and hurried after her to see her home.
In the room, the maids seemed to sense that something was unusual as well and, setting down what they were carrying, withdrew. Only the two of them remained in the inner chamber. Ming Huazhang looked at Ming Huashang, near enough to touch, and reached out to gently wipe the beads of sweat from the tip of her nose. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “You have nothing to feel guilty for. The one who has brought disaster upon those around him is me.”
Ming Huazhang spent the entire day at Ming Huashang’s side, feeding her medicine and water with his own hands — not setting foot elsewhere in any meaningful sense. As the sun gradually tilted westward, even as he cared for Ming Huashang, he couldn’t help letting his gaze drift to the shifting patterns of light on the floor.
He couldn’t get away today, and had truly been unable to go to the capital bureau. The ten-day deadline was nearly upon them — he didn’t know how the case was going.
And speak of someone and they appear — no sooner had this thought formed than a maid came in to report that Palace Aide Xie Jichuan of the Crown Prince’s household, Feather Forest Army Captain Ren Yao, and Jiang Ling of Marquis Jiang’an’s manor had all come to visit the Second Young Lady.
Ming Huazhang was somewhat surprised. It wasn’t unusual for the three of them to come visit Ming Huashang — if they hadn’t come, Ming Huazhang would have been furious. But this early?
The court day had not yet ended. This should by rights have been an extremely busy final day. How had they managed to slip away?
Ming Huazhang sensed that something had changed, and immediately had the maid invite the three in. Not daring to go too far from Ming Huashang, he had the maids lead them directly into Ming Huashang’s courtyard.
The voice arrived before the person. The moment Jiang Ling stepped inside, he announced in high spirits, “Ming Huazhang, great news — the killer has been caught!”
A folding screen divided the inner chamber from the outer hall. Ming Huazhang’s form was half-hidden behind it, indistinct, like a long and hazy stroke of dark ink. Yet Jiang Ling felt distinctly the moment Ming Huazhang turned to look at him, a cut of ice in his gaze that carried a tangible physical weight.
Jiang Ling’s excited words caught in his throat, and he forgot entirely what he had been about to say. Then Ren Yao came up behind him and gave him a sharp kick, scolding, “Erniang is still ill. Have you forgotten how to speak?”
Jiang Ling scratched his head, a bit sheepish. “It’s not like I was saying Erniang being sick is the good news — I meant the killer being caught.”
Ming Huazhang stepped out from behind the screen. He had untied the jade hook and let down the bed curtains and canopy hangings before he came out, then said evenly, “She’s asleep. Keep your voices down. We talk outside.”
Jiang Ling hadn’t expected he’d be turned away without even being offered a seat, left to stand on the covered walkway to speak. Ming Huazhang went out first, and Jiang Ling sighed and followed, muttering, “Not even a cup of water, what a miser.”
Ming Huazhang paid no attention, and stepping out he came face to face with Xie Jichuan. The two men’s eyes met, and both their expressions were equally unremarkable — as though the two who had come to blows this morning were someone else entirely.
Xie Jichuan glanced into the room. The canopy hangings fell on all sides of the screen like enveloping mist, and what lay within was impossible to make out. But he knew that someone was lying in there.
After Ming Huashang fainted last night, it had been Xie Jichuan who brought her back. He did not know — was she feeling any better today?
Ming Huazhang took up his position beside a pillar. He saw Xie Jichuan standing stock-still in the doorway, staring into the room, and narrowed his eyes. “Xie Jichuan — what are you looking at?”
Ming Huazhang’s voice held a veiled warning. Xie Jichuan rolled his eyes, his long sleeves trailing gracefully as he turned unhurried around. “Naturally I’m looking in on Second Little Sister. How is she?”
Ming Huazhang’s expression was blank. “She has only just managed to fall asleep — don’t go disturbing her. Ren Yao may go inside and look in on her. You two cannot. And — call her Second Young Lady.”
Hearing that Xie Jichuan and others had arrived, the rest of Duke Zhenguo’s household had also come over to see. Duke Zhenguo walked in and caught Ming Huazhang’s words, scolding, “Second Young Master, don’t be rude to Young Master Xie. We can’t have guests standing outside. Please, come inside and sit.”
“It’s quite all right,” said Xie Jichuan, still all easy smiles, seemingly unbothered by Ming Huazhang’s indifference — the perfect picture of an accommodating and well-bred guest. “As the guest wishes. We came today for two reasons. The first is to see how Second Little Sister is doing. The second is to inform the Duke and Madam Elder that last night, the killer who took Zhao Cai’s life was found.”
Duke Zhenguo had been vexed and dispirited for the entire day. At this, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of vigor. “He’s been caught?”
“Yes,” Xie Jichuan said. “As it happens, Second Little Sister and I have both seen this person before. There was a time when she and I came back together from outside the city, and we happened to run into someone near the capital bureau — a person behaving strangely, who ran the moment he saw us. I should have realized it then. If he had nothing to hide, why run? Had I known he would harm Second Little Sister, I would have seized him that very day.”
Ming Huazhang’s brow furrowed imperceptibly. He revealed nothing, but asked, “How did you catch him?”
Ren Yao looked deeply remorseful. “Yesterday was entirely our fault — we let Zhao Cai come to harm right under our noses. Today, Jiang Ling and I followed Xie Jichuan and searched all day. Xie Jichuan found a bloodstained robe in a drainage channel, and when he questioned people nearby, they said it looked like it belonged to Yang Half-Mad. We immediately went to search Yang Half-Mad’s home, and there we found a bloody knife. The blade’s length and shape matched Zhao Cai’s wounds exactly. We also found blood-soaked clothing in his home, saltpeter and sulfur for making gunpowder, strangely shaped symbols, and a notebook filled with names. We asked him what all those names were, and he said they were people he intended to kill.”
Jiang Ling picked up the account. “We had initially only gone to his home to ask a few questions, but the moment he saw the Feather Forest Army soldiers, he bolted. When he was caught, he was ranting wildly — one moment saying he would kill all of us, the next clutching his head and weeping, saying the court was spying on him and some powerful figure was out to get him. We asked him whether the earlier explosion cases were his doing, and he admitted to all of them, and also said there were bombs buried beneath Chang’an, and that in three days’ time the Buddha would come to collect him.”
Jiang Ling said this with undisguised contempt and rolled his eyes. “Raving and babbling. He’s some nobody without anything to his name — who would possibly want him dead? We couldn’t be bothered to listen to any more of his nonsense, so we came straight over from the capital bureau to bring you the good news.”
Xie Jichuan sighed. “I really didn’t imagine that behind all the chaos he stirred up in Chang’an — keeping half the court spinning in circles — there turned out to be a madman.”
Ming Huazhang asked slowly, “Yang Half-Mad is the killer’s name?”
“It’s a nickname,” Ren Yao said. “Nobody knows his real name. All that’s known is that his surname is Yang, and that half the time he’s normal, while the other half he’s raving, always shouting that people are trying to kill him. So everyone calls him Yang Half-Mad.”
Ming Huazhang asked, “Why does he believe people are out to kill him?”
“Nobody knows,” said Ren Yao. “That’s why they call him Yang Half-Mad.”
“Then why did he want to kill Zhao Cai?” Ming Huazhang paused, then said, “No — if we follow his riddle, the person he wanted to kill should be ‘Ming.’ I also have the surname Ming, and I am a government official at that. Why didn’t he choose to kill me?”
“This person is not normal — you can’t use ordinary logic with him,” Xie Jichuan said. “He is paranoid and suspicious. Normal things, the most routine circumstances, he interprets as plots against him. Perhaps Second Little Sister did something without even realizing it, and he took it to mean she was out to get him, and killed her in self-defense. It only happened that Zhao Cai was the one who stayed outside that day, and by a twist of fate she bore the blow meant for Second Little Sister. The bloodstained clothing in his home and the knife both match Zhao Cai’s body.”
Ming Huazhang’s brow was still gathered. He said, “He is a half-mad person. If what he says about people trying to kill him is false, how can we be certain that when he says he killed someone, it is true? A person like him — is he truly capable of making gunpowder with that kind of destructive force?”
“I’ve considered this as well,” Xie Jichuan said mildly. “I investigated Yang Half-Mad’s surroundings. An old man in their ward said that for all Yang Half-Mad’s raving now, he was once a Presented Scholar who had stood before the Golden Hall, who had written his name on the Wild Goose Pagoda. It was only later, when his career went nowhere, that he gradually went mad. I actually suspect he’s been faking the madness. If he could pass the imperial examinations, it’s not inconceivable that he could compound gunpowder. And a fondness for leaving riddles and hidden names at his crime scenes is also consistent with a pedantic scholar’s personality.”
Jiang Ling threw an arm over Xie Jichuan’s shoulder. “You have to hand it to him — Xie Jichuan actually went out today. He personally supervised the coroner’s examination of Zhao Cai’s body, and personally went to Changshou Ward to search. The main reason we found the killer this quickly is thanks to him.”
Xie Jichuan felt the hand on his shoulder as if it carried the plague and shoved it away with distaste. “Your hands are filthy. Don’t touch me.”
Jiang Ling clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You’re impossible. I was complimenting you.”
Lady Ming, the Second and Third branches of the household, and others all arrived in succession. Lady Ming, when she had heard Xie Jichuan’s account, recited a Buddhist invocation and said, “Amitabha. It’s good that he’s been caught. There are always people in this world who blame others for their own failures. Truly sinful.”
People in the courtyard buzzed and murmured among themselves. Yet Ming Huazhang was unusually quiet. He was silent for a moment, then asked, “Where is Yang Half-Mad now?”
“In the capital bureau’s jail. He hasn’t been sentenced yet, but in all likelihood it will be execution after the autumn assizes,” said Jiang Ling. “The capital magistrate has gone to the palace to make his report. A close call — we solved the case just barely before the deadline. Any later and it would have been too late.”
Ming Huazhang asked, “And what did the Holy Sovereign say?”
“What could she say?” Jiang Ling said breezily. “Naturally, merits will be awarded. Don’t worry — even though you weren’t there today, you put in a great deal of effort over the preceding days. When the Flower Morning Festival ends, you may not get first credit, but you should at least earn second rank merit.”
Lady Ming felt her heart settle at this, and chanted the Bodhisattva’s mercy several times in her breath. Seeing everyone around her in high spirits, Ren Yao hesitated over whether to say what was on her mind. Ming Huazhang noticed she had something to say and asked, “Ren Yao, is something the matter?”
Ren Yao looked a bit awkward and said haltingly, “Well — about Zhao Cai’s body. How do you all plan to handle it?”
For any person who died under unusual circumstances, regardless of their rank, the family could not collect the body until officials had completed the inquest. Those without family would be buried communally by the authorities. Zhao Cai was a bond servant, and the arrangements for her funeral were for her owner, Duke Zhenguo’s manor, to determine. If the manor was willing to bury her, the body would be returned to the Ming household. If not, she would be wrapped in a reed mat and thrown into the common burial grounds.
The atmosphere that had just been lifted with celebratory energy stiffened all at once. The Third Madam’s smile drew back slightly, and she cast a veiled glance at Ren Yao.
Truly oblivious — what sort of upbringing had Marquis Pingnan’s Madam Elder given her young ones? No sense of the room at all. One Ren Yao and one Ming Huashang — indeed, the old saying that a girl raised without her mother makes a poor wife had its reasons.
Ming Huazhang’s expression became subtly stern. He said, “Zhao Cai was as close to Shang’er as a sister. Of course she is to be brought back to Duke Zhenguo’s manor for burial. Where is her body? I will go and receive her.”
Ren Yao relaxed slightly. “There is no need. I knew you would ask about her, so I brought Zhao Cai’s body along on the way here. She is outside now, in the carriage. Erniang gave so much to this case and in the end even lost Zhao Cai. Should she not be told, so she at least has the chance to see Zhao Cai off one last time?”
A maidservant had no room for a formal lying-in-state period. With the Duke Zhenguo Manor’s resources, the burial garments and coffin could likely be arranged within the day. Once the coffin was nailed shut, the next time they met would be in another life.
Although Ren Yao thought it would be cruel for Ming Huashang to see the state of someone she knew in death, she ought at minimum to be told. Whether she went to see her or not was for Ming Huashang to choose.
Lady Ming cleared her throat loudly. Everyone in the courtyard turned as one toward the elder. Lady Ming sat gravely and spoke with authority. “She is a maidservant. If she died shielding her mistress, she performed her duty with loyalty. Give a generous allowance and make sure her funeral arrangements are proper — that is enough to say the Ming family did not raise her for nothing. As for Erniang, she is recovering — this trivial matter need not disturb her.”
“How can this be considered trivial?” said Ren Yao. “After all, she was a maidservant who had been with her for over ten years…”
“She is only a maidservant,” said Lady Ming, her expression unyielding as she decreed, “In the past, Erniang was young and the family indulged her. But she is growing older day by day and cannot carry on the way she did before. Once Erniang has recovered, she is to focus her attention on preparing her dowry. Outside matters need not concern her.”
Lady Ming’s words were none too courteous. Ren Yao and Jiang Ling exchanged a glance and caught the implication.
Lady Ming did not wish for Ming Huashang to continue involving herself in case investigations. And they themselves — it would be best if they did not come to disturb Ming Huashang anymore.
“Indeed,” said the Third Madam, chiming in from the side. “Erniang has already been badly frightened. Making her listen to all of this is not good for her recovery. From what I see, Erniang’s symptoms look a little like she’s had her spirit scattered. Shall we invite a high monk to call her spirit back?”
“That would be unwise,” the Second Madam said at once. “So many people have died in Chang’an just now — summoning spirits carelessly… what if something unclean is called in?”
The Second Madam dared not say it outright, but Prince Shao and the Wei heir had only been beaten to death at the Danfeng Gate yesterday, and Princess Yongtai had died from her fright-induced miscarriage. These were people who had died in dark and violent circumstances — who would want to stir anything up and draw such presences to Duke Zhenguo’s manor?
Duke Zhenguo frowned at these words and was about to shoot a sharp look at the Second Madam for her unseemly remarks, when Ming Huazhang stopped him.
Ming Huazhang listened calmly as his cousins and cousins’ wives were called “unclean things,” his expression the cold severity of someone refined to the sharpest edge. He was like a finely calibrated instrument — whatever the frost, rain, or wind outside, always producing the most rational, measured response. “Thank you for bringing Zhao Cai’s remains here. But Shang’er’s current condition makes her unfit to hear any of this. Dongjing — find a cool, shaded room, and house Zhao Cai there for the time being. Have people go down to the cellar and cut ice. Place it in the four corners of the room, replace it every hour on the hour, and keep the door locked at all other times. Unless I am present, no one is to be admitted. Steward — draw one hundred guan from the manor’s accounts, and another one hundred guan from my private account, and personally go to the East Market to procure a coffin and white mourning paper for Zhao Cai. Choose only the finest. As for the rest — try and find Zhao Cai’s parents and siblings. If she still has kin in this world, please invite them to come and see Zhao Cai on her way.”
Lady Ming’s brow pulled tighter with every word she heard, until she could contain herself no longer. “So you didn’t take in a word I said just now. If it weren’t for her willfulness, going out constantly, would she have gotten involved in any of this? She is only a maidservant — what is there to see? Have the body buried quickly. It’s inauspicious to keep a corpse in the manor. After this, keep Erniang home more often, let her properly prepare her dowry, stop coddling her like this — or sooner or later you will get her killed.”
Ren Yao had come with good intentions, and had not expected to set off a household dispute. She was acutely uncomfortable. But Ming Huazhang stood straight as a pillar without yielding in the slightest — not even Lady Ming’s face was given to him, and he said coldly and firmly in rebuttal, “This is not her fault. You do not blame the depraved wretch who raised his blade against someone defenseless — you blame Ming Huashang for drawing that person’s attention, and you blame a loyal maidservant for lacking the power to defend herself?”
Xie Jichuan raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. Ming Huazhang had actually said “depraved wretch” — that was, in Xie Jichuan’s experience of knowing him, the most vulgar, the least gentlemanly word that had ever left Ming Huazhang’s lips.
It seemed Ming Huazhang was truly furious this time. Because as long as he could draw breath, he would never use such an undignified word.
Lady Ming had been openly contradicted by Ming Huazhang in front of everyone, and her face had gone an ugly shade of pale green with rage. The Third Madam pressed her handkerchief in her fingers and said in a drawn-out tone, “Second Young Master, that is quite unfair to Madam Elder. Madam Elder says this out of care for Erniang. What nice young lady goes about dealing with corpses every day?”
Ming Huazhang’s gaze was ice-cold — the edge of a drawn blade, looking down from above at the Third Madam. “She is the finest young lady there is, in my eyes. If she wants to stay home and embroider, she embroiders. If she wants to go out and solve cases, she solves cases. It is not for anyone else to dictate to her. She holds justice in her heart and speaks up for the common people — that is the highest of virtuous deeds. On what grounds do you speak of her this way, Third Aunt?”
The Third Madam was left without a word to say in her defense and gave a small, deflected laugh. “Just idle family talk — why is Second Young Master making it into such a great matter?”
Ming Huazhang was always gentle and meticulous toward Ming Huashang. But when he turned that attention away from her, he let his smile fall, and his brow and eyes revealed the cold sharpness that was his true nature.
He stood above the steps, his bearing cold as ice and snow, his manner bright and austere. His voice, like his appearance, was clear and cutting. “I say what I mean and I am blunt about it. I am not like Shang’er, who always thinks of others first, always leaves face to her kin. Some of what I’ve said may be hard to hear — I ask everyone present to bear with me. Shang’er has never been a weak or muddled person. There is much she understands perfectly well. She simply did not want to make things difficult for Father, so she never said it aloud. She is not afraid of ghosts or spirits. She is not afraid of evil men. She is only too kindhearted — always one step ahead in sensing others’ pain. If Grandmother considers that being spoiled, then so be it. From now on, if she wants to keep solving cases, she may continue. If she no longer wants to, she will come home. I will spoil her for the rest of her life, and it will not cost any of you a single grain of rice. So from now on, whatever she does — I ask everyone here not to come and point fingers at her again. Grandmother, Second Aunt, Third Aunt — if you have nothing else, please leave. The physician said Shang’er needs rest and quiet.”
The Second and Third branches had come today under the guise of visiting the sick — but beyond appearances, there was no shortage of satisfaction at someone else’s misfortune in their hearts. They had not expected to be lectured by a seventeen-year-old junior. The Third Madam’s face cycled between red and white. “Second Young Master — that is quite unreasonable. There are so many young ladies in Chang’an. We don’t come to speak of any of them — only of her. Isn’t that because we care for her?”
“What she needs most right now is quiet, not people ‘caring for her.’ You staying here is what is bad for her,” said Ming Huazhang. His face held no trace of a smile, his voice clear and unflinching. “Please leave.”
Jiang Ling had initially been thinking of whether to say something to smooth things over, but as things developed, he simply clasped his hands and stood quietly listening to Ming Huazhang.
Ming Huazhang was truly a man who had dared directly talk back to his own superior. It didn’t matter who you were — if you crossed him, he would not leave you a shred of face.
Jiang Ling watched with great interest. Listen — Ming Huazhang had even used the word “please.” How warm and proper, how gentlemanly and refined.
Probably only Ming Huashang thought of him as gentle and considerate.
Lady Ming had never been treated this way in her life. She turned furiously toward Duke Zhenguo — but Duke Zhenguo was standing at the far end, asking a maid something, as if he hadn’t heard a single word of Ming Huazhang’s disrespectful speech. Lady Ming looked and understood perfectly: in a man’s heart, his own elderly mother would always come second to his own children. In the end, he saw himself as being on their side. Lady Ming uttered two sharp “good”s, so angry she swept her sleeve and left in a fury.
If Ming Huazhang would not give face even to Lady Ming, how much less so the Second and Third branches? The Second and Third Madams had been utterly put to shame and scurried off like mice.
The courtyard emptied out enormously in an instant, and Jiang Ling breathed out, feeling that even the air had become cleaner. At this point Ming Huazhang turned to look at Xie Jichuan, Ren Yao, and Jiang Ling, and said evenly, “You three are not people?”
Jiang Ling: “…”
There it was. As expected — any passing dog was good for a kick as well.
The sound of footsteps followed one after another, and the last few people remaining were swept out too. The small courtyard fell back into quiet. A short while later, a soft sound of a door being opened came, and the evening light poured in like liquid gold. The bed hangings behind the screen lifted like smoke. Ming Huazhang passed through the folding screen and raised the gauze that hung before the bed, as if disturbing a room full of golden powder — brilliant golden light turning slowly all around him.
He looked down at Ming Huashang. She lay on her side on the brocade mattress, eyes closed, apparently deep in slumber. Ming Huazhang let out a quiet breath and leaned down to pull the bedcovers up over her.
“Shang’er, I’ll step out for a moment. Sleep peacefully. Sleep as long as you like. I will always be here.”