As rain lashed against the bluestone pavement, Shen Zhiyi clutched a blood-stained handkerchief, hearing the sound of shattering porcelain echo from the end of the corridor. It was her most cherished celadon vase, the one originally meant for holding the ink-plum blossoms the General had sent.
"Does the General still remember," she steadied herself against the carved wooden railing, tasting iron in her throat, "that I went to Jingdezhen myself to pick out this vase for your birthday last year?"
Gu Chengze stood with his back to her, his plain white under-robe stained with a few drops of tea. Lying near his feet was a pale Concubine Liu, whose wrist had been grazed by shards of porcelain. Beads of blood dripped from her fingertips onto the Persian rug, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the bloodstains on Gu Chengze’s armor the very first time Shen Zhiyi saw him.
Chapter 23