The Renshou Palace was deathly quiet, with only the faint trails of smoke rising from the two blue-and-white cloud crane incense burners below the imperial throne, swirling and lingering under the colorful painting of the twenty-eight constellations on the caisson ceiling.
The sky darkened, as the little eunuchs carried copper-handled lanterns, lighting candle after candle inside the Renshou Palace.
The officials looked at Chen Ji, who stood proudly in the hall, and only upon closely scrutinizing his somewhat youthful face did they remember that he seemed to be just nineteen years old.
Some of the older officials, in a trance, found themselves transported back more than twenty years.
