-------
Han Yan hurried back toward Wei Jun's house, his steps quickening the closer he got. He had meant to arrive before dusk, and the sun was already sliding low over the rooftops.
He was almost at the gate when noise spilled over the courtyard wall. Among the voices he caught Wei Fan's, bright and giddy and tripping over itself, going on and on about the betrothal.
Han Yan's steps slowed, and a smile tugged at his lips. They definitely tell Wei Fan about the betrothal.
He pushed the gate open and stepped inside. Under the old tree, everyone had gathered around the worn stone table.
Lin Xin and Liu De sat on one side, chatting easily as they went over what needed to be prepared, their voices light.
Across from them, Wei Jun sat with his big hands folded on the stone, explaining something to his son.
