The candlelight danced on the window paper of the East Palace Wing. Wan'er held the newly copied memorial in her hands, while her fingertips repeatedly rubbed the edge of the page. Seeing that she was distracted, Li Xian put down the "Book of Han" in his hand and asked warmly, "But were you tired while transcribing?"
Wan'er raised her eyes and met his smiling eyes, suddenly remembering Ye Ting's dream that night many years ago. At that time, she was still a slave. She was curled up on a cold bed at night, and she dreamed of a man dressed in the clothes of a prince, sitting under the old locust tree where she often went, holding a volume of the Book of Songs in his hand, and reading "There is a beautiful person, as graceful as the clear air." In the dream, she couldn't see the man's face, but she felt that his voice was like the warm sun in winter, which could melt the cold in Yeting.
"Your Highness, do you still remember that when Wan'er was in Ye Ting, she often said she had a strange dream?" She put down the memorial, her voice as soft as the smoke beside the candlelight, "Actually, the person who read the Book of Songs to Wan'er in the dream was none other than Your Highness."
Li Xian's hand holding the scroll paused, a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes, and then turned into a soft wave. "Oh? Which sentence did I read in the dream?"
"It's 'There is a beautiful person, as graceful as the clear air.'" Wan'er lowered her eyes, the tips of her ears were slightly red, "At that time, Wan'er didn't know it was His Highness, she just felt that the voice made people feel warm in their hearts, and even the cold night in Ye Ting was no longer so uncomfortable.
