The sky was filled with a purple hue, and a brocade-feathered rooster flew onto the roof edge, crowing to usher in the morning.
With a splash.
The clear water for washing spread wide, foam on its edges splashed to the ground, flowing along gaps into the soil. Chen Zhao'an spat out the strange taste in his mouth, took a deep breath of the morning air, called for his great-grandson, straightened his posture, leaned on a huanghuali walking stick, and sat before a well-polished bronze mirror. He wiped away the thin mist with a cloth and closed his eyes.
Chen Dongrong put down the basin and came over, picking up a comb to do Chen Zhao'an's hair.
"Great-grandfather, perhaps..."
"Perhaps what? You're over ten years into adulthood, why the hesitation, can't you speak clearly?"
