The Empress looked at the cold dishes on the table: "Little Stone, being estranged from me since childhood, forsook even the throne for me, his mother. Last time he came to Kunning Palace, he cried for an hour, saying he dreamt of me wearing white, standing somewhere very high, the wind blowing my sleeves like they were about to fly away... Such a grown-up, still wiping tears."
She held Wu Yun and went to the West Warm Pavilion, walked to the dressing table, and opened the bottom drawer. Inside were not jewels, but several faded little clothes, a well-worn wooden sword, and a stack of red calligraphy practice sheets with crooked handwriting.
The Empress stood in a trance for a long time, then softly said to Aunt Yuan Jin, "Aunt Yuan Jin, help me grind the ink; I want to write a letter to Little Stone."
Aunt Yuan Jin agreed.
