Dayin Jinghe's fifth year, autumn.
In the backyard of the Prime Minister's Mansion at the foot of the Imperial City, the old ginkgo leaves are in full bloom, covering half of the corridor like gold foil. Gu Hao was wearing a moon-white silk robe and held a wolf hair in his hand, but he had not put it on the rice paper. The wind came in through the open window lattice, rolling up a ginkgo leaf and falling on the inkstone. The ink smeared out a small cloud of light gray, which seemed to be like the inexplicable stagnation in his heart at the moment.
"Dad, you're in a daze again! My husband said that he would teach me how to write "Commentary" today, and you promised to practice with me." A childish voice hit his ears, and Gu Chengzhi ran over with a small sky-blue jacket in his hands, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and his short legs clicked on the gold bricks in the corridor. This child has just turned eight years old, and there is a hint of Liu Qingyi's calmness between his brows and eyes, but when he smiles, his eyes look exactly like Gu Hao's.
