From the first year of Yuan Yi to the sixth year of Chengxuan, there were a total of fifteen letters sent or not sent. Today I will burn them all together with the past thirty years.
The young man next door picked up the scattered letters and marveled that this old country woman actually wrote the name of the doctor who advised the court directly on the scroll.
"Are you going to write a letter to Mr. Sun to complain?"
The woman shook her head and smiled.
"It doesn't matter. Mr. Sun is just and upright. Just send him to his house boldly. But you can't write He Tian directly. It's impolite to call him by his name. You have to write his name. He is familiar with it. That's not right. You are neither an elder nor a friend. Write Mr. Sun instead."
The young man took the letter and ran back home. The woman smiled, picked up the letter on the ground, and threw it into the blazing fire.
That night, a young boy rushed into Sun's house with a letter. The newly widowed Jian Yilang rode his horse in the street and galloped to the entrance of an alley in the western suburbs. He knocked on the door and cried all night. When he heard the woman in the house call his name, he walked back crying and laughing.
In the tenth year of Chengxuan's reign, a funeral was held in the thatched house in the western suburbs. That night, Jianyi Lang passed away.
Intention: Intention to be added