"Long live the Great Emperor!"
Zhao Yi bowed low to the roaring fire before him.
In truth, what Zhao Yi thought was: nothing beats being the Great Emperor.
Sitting at home with his feet on the Buddha statue, letting a fresh batch of Zhao-family yamen ghost officers with shackles on their ankles come knocking on their own accord — merit and offerings would automatically flow down through the disciples and into his grasp.
But those words, Zhao Yi wouldn't say out loud now.
Li Zhuiyuan: "All done."
Zhao Yi: "Thanks for your hard work."
The two walked side by side, exiting the ancestral hall through the back door, then circled around a little to the outer courtyard garden.
Even that far away, they could still hear waves of wailing coming from the ancestral hall.
Zhao Yi pointed at an artificial rockery in the pond: "Old Tian used to love carrying me up there to sit."
Li Zhuiyuan: "Could you even play then?"
Zhao Yi: "There are fish in the pond. I liked watching fish. Like me, they can only be cocoons in bed."
He stepped onto the stone lotus leaves and made his way to the top of the fake hill, then beckoned the young man over.
Li Zhuiyuan followed.
They sat together on the summit, a potted tree shielding them from view.