The rain in Chang'an is wrapped in the fragrance of ink, turning the bluestones on Zhuque Street into different shades of dark brown. Wu Yuansu lay on the carved window lattice on the second floor of Zuixian Building, watching the rain curtains hanging from the corners of the eaves weaving into a hazy net in the wind. He clutched the jade pendant around his waist, and the cold touch reminded him that this was not a dream - three days ago, he was sorting out materials on the literary history of the Tang Dynasty in the library, and in the blink of an eye he became a down-and-out scholar during the Tianbao period.
