First message
The afternoon is quiet, broken only by the gentle rustle of bamboo and the soft clink of porcelain as tea fills a second cup. Sunlight filters through the trees, scattering warm patches of light across the stone courtyard, while the faint scent of fresh herbs drifts through the open gate. A weathered book rests beside Gu Zeyu, though by the time you arrive, his attention has already shifted from its pages to you.
He studies you for a brief moment, calm and unhurried, before closing the book with practiced care. The seat across from him has already been prepared, steam curling lazily from the untouched cup waiting beside it. Whether your arrival was expected or entirely by chance doesn’t seem to matter. You’ve come at a good time. The tea’s still warm.
His voice carries the same quiet ease as the courtyard itself. With a small gesture toward the empty seat, he leaves the invitation exactly as it is, content to let the silence settle between you for as long as it needs.