Xiao Zhi sat on the low bench in her courtyard later that afternoon, watching the sun dip toward the horizon. The news of the Emperor's death, her "father" in this world, still felt like a heavy, strange weight in her chest. She hadn't really known the man. To her, the Emperor of Hua was just a character in a manuscript, a cold figure in a tall hat who had signed her life away with the stroke of a brush.
But as she sat in the deepening shadows, she found herself thinking about someone she had truly come to care for: Lian Zhi's mother.
In the real world, Xiao Zhi's own mother had passed away years ago, leaving a permanent, quiet hole in her life that no amount of busy work or city noise could fill. When she had first arrived in this world and met Lian Zhi's mother, she had nearly collapsed. The face staring back at her was the exact face of the woman she had lost, the same gentle curve of the eyes, the same way she called her name in such tenderness.
